An American Look at London Theatre

REVIEW: “Pressure Drop”

2010-04-22T22:37:00.001+01:00

It’s nice to see the Wellcome Collection (and by extension Wellcome Trust) expanding into theatre. The organisation has put on some fascinating work in the past, and their gallery is a great place to spend an hour mulling over the mix of art and science.

But did they really have to make something as flat as Pressure Drop their premiere piece?

Well, perhaps flat’s not quite the right term to use. A rather cramped promenade set out across three mini-stages and accompanied by 80’s rocker Billy Bragg with band, Pressure Drop is part of the Identity Project series. In this case, question is “What is the identity of the modern white working class?”

Now, I’m foreign, so some of the impact may well be lost on me, but I feel like I’ve been in England long enough to have spotted all the tickboxes:

-Xenophobia
-BNP
-Racists
-Boozing up
-Family ties
-Sense of entitlement
-Male pride
-Chavwear
-THEY’RE TAKING URRR JERBS
-Racists
-Desires for the future
-Sense of community
-Sense of lost community
-Racists

In other words, it’s a two hour episode of EastEnders. Family patriarch Ron has died, and while unemployed factory man Jack is being pressured by loudmouthed friend Tony (played as a masterful cunt by David Kennedy) to stand in the council elections for the BNP, prodigal son Jon returns from New York after escaping his working class roots and making it in New York as a stockbroker, and Jack’s intelligent and artistic song George (Shea Davis as a remarkably non-annoying kid) is bullied by Tony’s son, the chavtastic Barney. Rounding off the tropes are kind Nana (June Watson) and Jack’s unhappy and unsure wife Jacqui.

Well, we’ve seen it all before. Jon is aghast at what’s happened to his old friends (or rather how little has), he’s kicked down for ascending and becoming an outsider, Tony spends the entire play being a loudmouthed racist, and the funeral barely happens in peace.

It’s all well handled by the actors, but Mick Gordon (book and direction) seems to have banged the play out in about as much time as it’s taking me to write this review. The night I went (final preview, thanks for the press tickets), the show ran 30 minutes over time, and it fails utterly in one of its key scenes: Jack consistently delays his decision to sign the paperwork and stand for office, and his ultimate decision is made due to an offstage conversation with George which would have had far more impact had it been presented on stage, thereby breaking one of Mamet’s rules of good drama. Jacqui is given too little to do (a sign of genuine working class women?), and while we’re supposed to hate Tony, the character is so utterly unlikeable that it was tempting to take advantage of the promenade staging and deck him multiple times onstage. Likewise, the reveal that Jack’s party is the BNP is given away FAR too early, without enough time to build to hit the audience emotionally. We see the flier in the first scene, we can predict the rest. There is a clever trick which I shan’t spoil here (it’s perhaps the smartest part of the show), but there’s a lot of standard fare surrounding it.

The advert’s selling points, however, are Billy Bragg’s music and performance along with the hybrid promenade/installation staging. Both are nice, both are entirely superfluous. The music provides commentary, but doesn’t engage the cast or the story except for one song which everybody here can guess. And how ironic it is that the racist will dance to a song covered by The Specials and originated as a reggae piece. But that’s part of it, innit? Anyhow, Bragg’s in fine voice but those coming to see him will be disappointed by how little he actually does, and the fact that it’s him is superfluous.

As for the promenade staging, it’s a clever use of the Wellcome’s space, but with only three locations in a relatively small space, the piece doesn’t really have room to portray a neighbourhood and uses the device more to avoid set changes than involvement. Compared to, say, Mincemeat or works of a certain well known company, the promenade is wasted: Pressure Drop would work just as well on a proscenium stage or in a black box as the prom style and lose nothing.

So is Pressure Drop worth seeing? It’s not bad, and if you arrive early enough you can wander through the Wellcome’s free gallery first, but it’s ultimately trying too hard and revealing too little. The Corrie Omnibus on Sunday has about as much to say, and won’t set you back £20, but there is something about seeing it live and up close which helps. But in the end, team, the pressure's gonna drop on you.

REVIEW: “Once Upon A Time At The Adelphi”

2010-03-11T09:44:00.001Z

It’s a busy day at the Adelphi Hotel in Liverpool: the guests are frenzied, receptionist Neil is leaving for Japan, and manager Jo has been invited to go with him. She’s distraught and torn between her safe life and going off with a friend turned potential lover. Amidst the chaos (since the paragraph so far has covered the opening number), a woman has been spotted on the roof and may be about to jump. When Jo goes up to check it out, she finds herself talking to Alice, her predecessor from 70 years prior. The majority of the show from thereon is a flashback about Alice’s time during the golden age of Hollywood, and the ups and downs of her relationship with Thompson, a rogue and childhood friend trying to clean up his act and win her heart.

There’s a lot to appreciate about Once Upon A Time At The Adelphi. It boasts a cast of 19, manages to fit them all onto the Union’s stage, has a huge creative team working for it, and even offered press tickets to bloggers (including insane ones like yours truly). There’s also the benefit of an original book, new music, Andrew Wright’s energetic and sharp choreography, and Rebecca Hutchinson pulling a double shift as modern day Jo and 1930’s Young Alice.

So before I go all rant-y and do the “tear everything I see apart because that’s what the readers expect” bit, I’ll get the pull quote out of the way first:

Fans of traditional musicals will love “Once Upon A Time At The Adelphi.” It’s a charming, pleasantly scored fairy tale, a love letter to the pre-war Liverpudlian spirit, and another hit for the Union. It’s sweet, gentle, and pleasantly old-fashioned. The West End Whingers would love it, and it’s fantastic to see a new, original show with so many people behind it coming into town.

Unfortunately, I’m a raging cynic and it just wasn’t my cup of tea.

It may have just been because I had a long day, but I found the pacing rather excruciating: directed by its writer Phil Willmott, “Adelphi” moves at a snail’s pace, and despite the first act only being 65 minutes, it felt like at least 90. The second act was snappier, but both could have done with cuts. Part of this, however, needs to be attributed to the evolution of the musical form - it’s rare to stop the plot these days just to have a scene set up a song and dance number. Old fashioned charm is what the show is about, though, so I get it. And I’m glad they’re there, because Wright’s choreography is a highlight of the show.

The book also has some issues with the continuation of action: while the parallel of Jo and Neil is set up as a foil and an interest point against Alice and Thompson, the former isn’t actually developed enough to matter: all it does is help telegraph the final plot twist, and more astute viewers will pick up on it from the start.

Mr. Willmott’s score (assisted by Elliot Davis) is also pleasant, but ballad heavy and both forgettable (can’t remember any tunes 12 hours later) and had some familiar sounding chord structures. And unfortunately, Jon-Paul Hevey sounded like he was having a bad night, as his singing became increasingly awkward through the night though he mostly made up for it with his scouse charm and well-meaning roguishness.

And yes, this is a show full of scousers. And visiting Americans. Visiting Americans played in part by American actors who really should have helped their English compatriots out with their overplayed accents and informed Mr. Willmott that Americans don’t call elevators “lifts.” But that’s a nitpick there.

As I said before, there’s a lot to recommend “Adelphi,” and traditionalists and new musical enthusiasts will both get their kicks out of the production. Mancurians and the sarcastic, however, are likely to be less than enthusiastic.

NOTES: ‘Modelling Spitfires’ / ‘Lost Soul Music’

2010-03-01T09:41:00.001Z

Hard though it may be to believe, I’ve actually been to the theatre lately and HAVEN’T gone solely to review a show or because a friend was involved or because I was working on it. And since I’ve got deadlines for other work today, these are going to be mercilessly brief. Cast and creative information for Lost Soul Music is not present on the Pleasance website and I didn’t buy a programme.

First up, Modelling Spitfires at the New End. When Maruice comes back to the family house after a stay in a mental institution, sister Marcia’s life is turned upside down: she was planning to sell the house, move out of the city, and start living life for herself after caring for an abusive elderly father and raising a daughter as a single parent. Maurice has other plans, and the manipulative genius with the emotional maturity of an eight year old has been hard at work to ensure that Marcia stays put.

There’s some interesting work going on in Spitfires about how we handle family responsibilities: the drain they take on those doing the caring, when we put ourselves first, and so on. The problem, though, is that Spitfires fails my basic test of a family drama, which goes like this:

‘Can all of the problems be resolved by either shooting an instigator or having one of the sufferers commit suicide?’

If the answer is yes, the play fails. And, in this case, there would be an instant happy ending for Maurice if Marcia kills herself, and an instant happy ending for everybody (namely the audience) if she shot Maurice ten minutes in. This isn’t for lack of trying by the actors, particularly author Vanessa Rosenthal, who also plays Marcia, and it’s nice to see a proper set in the New End and all, but August Osage County this isn’t, and sitting through three hours of August was nothing compared to the 95 minutes (with interval) of Spitfires.

Speaking of death as a release, there is much soul searching and selling at the Pleasance in Islington these days as they present a series of Lost Soul Music. A set of six one-act musicals about losing your soul, and hemmed by the team behind TONY! The Blair Musical, Lost Soul is presented in sets of two, so a patron needs to visit three times to see all six pieces. Being an anthology of sorts, there’s the benefit that if the first show isn’t to your fancy, the second very well may be.

The day I went, the selections were ‘All the Best Tunes’, about a boy who sells his soul to be able to sing, and ‘Soldier of Fortune’, about a time jumping coward who goes from battle to battle, ultimately becoming a shell shocked god of war. Both pieces have doubled cast members (as do the other four), and the set is a simple, yet effective way of using the Pleasance’s size and revolve, relying upon a well constructed and positioned flat.

Musically, ‘Tunes’ is the more original - a jazzy set of tracks and perfectly in line with the history of jazz and blues being termed the devil’s music and the religious imagery involved. ‘Soldier’ relies heavily upon traditional tunes (e.g. ‘Bring Back My Bonnie To Me’) with repurposed lyrics.

The books....could do with a bit of trimming. Despite each piece being around 50-55 minutes, they both felt like they were running out of steam by the end, and some minor edits for pacing could easily keep the energy from flagging. I don’t really have anything else to say about ‘Tunes’ - there’s nothing groundbreaking in its story or the way it’s told, but it’s solid and works well. ‘Soldier’ is a bit more problematic, as the audience often shares in the protagonist’s confusion about where (and when) he is, particularly for the first third. The anti-war message also feels like less of a gentle leaflet and more like a conceptual cricket bat by the end, but it undoubtedly will appeal to many in the audience.

To sum up: Avoid Spitfires, take a chance on Lost Soul.

UPDATE: Why so silent?

2010-01-19T09:59:00.002Z

Things have been rather quite on the blogger front lately, and in this case it's not because I've taken out a New Year's resolution see less theatre (though Mark Shenton and the West End Whingers have), but rather it's a question of time and energy. I've had back to back shows to work on, and while there will be some down time, it's going into a third. This reduces both the time (and money) I have to spend on going to the theatre - even when I can score free tickets since transit costs get reassigned - and when I'm spending all my time working on a show, I tend to not really want to sit through more of them.

Instead, I've been catching up on my anime viewing, getting some alternative contract work, and so on and so forth. I have been to the theatre recently, mostly for paid critical work, and most recently for Legally Blonde (short: it's good, safe family/first date fare but don't pay full price) and next for The Little Dog Laughed. After that, well, we'll see. After running around London to make sure rehearsals are running and dealing with ongoing HR crises, it's so much easier to just put a DVD on and forget about things for a while. So instead of theatre, I may put in some occasional anime or DVD reviews - things that either have a known appeal to the theatre crowd (e.g. I *finally* got a copy of the RENT Live DVD) or a broader outside appeal for non-fans to dip their toes in the water. We shall see. Again, time and energy.

And on that note, I've got phone calls to make before rehearsal.

REVIEW: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

2009-12-29T10:39:00.002Z

(This is almost certainly my last review for 2009 and probably my final post for the year as well.)

For many, Elizabeth Taylor is synonymous with Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Despite personal tragedy in production, her sexy, smouldering Maggie draped herself across a film full of long, still shots, and the theatrical nature of the script often led her to play directly to the camera and audience in such a way as to immediately sympathise with the ignored wife and give in to her charms and appeals. Any new production, therefore, must find a way to keep the film as far from the audience’s mind as possible during the play.

In a stunning new production, director Debbie Allen (most infamous for her choreography in Carrie) has done just that by casting an all-Black family in her Cat. While purists may show disdain at Allen’s edits, mostly to reflect racial issues and salt up a bit of Big Daddy’s language, the new Cat is a fascinating view of a family and an era in decline.

Moved to the 1980’s, Brick (Adrian Lester) is a football player-turned-announcer now consumed with apathy and alcoholism after the death of his best friend and possible lover Skipper. He has cut off his wife, Maggie (Sanaa Lathan) in every way possible, but most importantly in the bedroom. As Big Daddy (James Earl Jones) turns 65, word spreads through the family that he is dying of cancer - though the doctors have told him and Big Mama (Phylicia Rashad) that it was just a scare. Armed with the news, Brick’s older brother Gooper (Peter de Jersey) and his wife Mae (Nina Sosanya) are going full on for inclusion in Big Daddy’s yet-unwritten will, throwing their children and traditional family values in the faces of their opposition.

Williams’ play is a curio, not just for the way its repetitive style of dialogue would be co-opted and expanded by later generations (compare Maggie and Brick’s “Are you listening?” “I hear you.” with the “Talking/Telling” aspects of Glengarry Glenn Ross), but also for its portrayal of Southern traditions in decline and the needs of polite society to sweep anything undesirable - be it marital issues or homosexuality - under the rug only to watch as the house of cards collapses when the dirt dissolves the foundation.

Indeed, there have been many complaints among visitors for how the new time period weakens the crux (Brick’s possibly sexual relationship with Skipper), but the cultural shift of casting it in a Black family keeps it up: the role of the Church and traditional family structures are central in the African-American community, and sexual tolerance is still far behind that of society at large.

As far as Allen’s cast and direction go, Lester’s Brick is the picture of apathy: given over entirely to the bottle, Brick is a man of pride with nothing to be proud of. He’s flat, smooth, and devoid of emotion for anything except a drink and his memories - a calm amongst the storm around him. Lathan’s Maggie carries the first act, and demands both the audience’s sympathy and their annoyance: we can side with her while seeing why Brick wants her to go away and let him drink. The stars, however, are Rashad’s Big Mama, a well-meaning but intellectually lacking matron whose traditional power is shadowed entirely by the whirlwind of James Earl Jones’s firebrand of a Big Daddy.

To be honest, Jones was the selling point of the play for me going in, and the man could read the phone book for three hours and I’d still be enraptured, so take it for what it’s worth. However, to see a legend up close in one of the great American dramas is always a joyous experience, especially one which allows us both to see the voice of Darth Vader tearing into the fools he suffers in the name of polite society and for his delivery of the classic lines on mendacity.

So, needless to say, the production could do little wrong in my eyes, and it delivered by keeping me enraptured for the entire three hour runtime (one proper interval, one short one between the second and third acts.) While the new Cat is ambitious on multiple levels, it succeeds at two key aspects at the core: to bring a new, fresh angle to the text and to present the play well. See this while you can, and rejoice in the power of the straight play (especially with the Enron and Jerusalem transfers just around the corner.)

NOTE:
OK, so there’s one thing that did keep me from being fully engrossed in the show for all three hours, namely where I was sitting. It’s possible to get tickets in the slips for £10 on Lastminute, which is the only way I could afford a ticket, and depending on where you are (mine wasn’t TOO bad) you’ll miss a good deal of the action and when the eyes wander, so does the mind. The effect wasn’t as bad as at Arcadia, but the easily distracted should definitely shell out the extra cash for central seating, as both sides will face significantly restricted views (seats 1-12 lose being able to see the bar, seats 13-24 won’t see the dressing table.)

NOTES: Holiday Show Roundup

2009-12-15T09:34:00.001Z

Things are extremely busy over here in show meltdown land, but as a bit of distraction I’ve attempted to keep up some of my annual holiday time theatre going. So, for those in need of some cheering up and rediscovery of inner youth, here’s the four big holiday shows I’ve seen in the last month:

Aladdin @ Hackney Empire
This is my third year attending the Hackney panto and every year it’s a gem and a total treat. The script is tight, the jokes brilliant, and the cast on tip top form. And Clive’s even throwing sweets into the audience again. Really, nothing else to say besides SEE THIS.

Rock 'n' Roll Aladdin @ The Shaw
The cast of actor-musicians give it their all and this is a fun show, but the script is middle of the road and very paint by numbers. I enjoyed it, and would recommend it to those who don’t want to travel all the way to Wimbledon though. Especially if you prefer 50’s-70’s rock instead of most of the bits and bobs that get pinched for panto these days.

Morecambe @ The Duchess
I fully admit that I’m too young to really have appreciated this. It’s very nice, but there’s no real dramatic tension (Morecambe and Wise both led rather squeaky clean lives) and the humour feels old and dated now, especially since it’s a double act done by one. See it if you’re nostalgic, otherwise stay home and watch Morecambe and Wise clips on YouTube for an hour - especially the Mastermind segment. I think I laughed more at that than the entire show...

Dick Barton: Quantum of Porridge @ Croydon Warehouse
My second Dick Barton show, and one well worth the rather long journey out to Croydon for. Sharp gags, a plot twist in every scene, and some real creativity in the staging. Sure to join Hackney’s panto as one of my Christmas time traditions. See it if you can.

REVISIT: Jest End

2009-11-18T19:30:00.002Z

Never let it be said that I don’t believe in second chances.

On the other hand, let it be said that I absolutely believe in calling ‘em as I see ‘em. And despite thinking this version of Jest End is better than its predecessor, and regardless of the cast who worked their tails off to sing it well, the show still doesn’t come together.

For one, timing is everything in comedy. So why are there still jokes about Gone With The Wind, (nothing about Ernie Get Your Gun though) Mary Poppins, and Footloose (all gone for over a year) and bits about Little Mermaid and Legally Blonde (not open yet)? Ditto the farewell to Avenue Q which doesn’t close until March. All of the reality show bits are recycled from the last show as well, despite the fact that we didn’t have a casting show this year. I’ll almost forgive the Lord of the Rings song even if it took me forever to remember what it was from - though LotR wasn’t mentioned in the lyrics - but it was at least about flops in general. And still nothing about some of the biggest shows in the West End.

Second, the jokes are still one note. ALW and the Phantom singing “You’re Nothing Without Me” from City of Angels is a cosplay skit. It’s not something to put in a professional show, especially given that the joke is exposed as soon as people realise what the song is. The Barrowman and Donovan numbers were the same - Barrowman has a big smile and is loud, Jason Donovan hasn’t done stage in a while. Got it. Now do something with the other three minutes in the song.

How bad was it? I sat behind the creatives who were quite pleased with themselves, and I couldn’t hear all of the audience, but I *could* see the people off to the side thanks to the Jermyn Street’s lovely layout. And I saw that most of them weren’t laughing after the first verse of most bits.

Third, too much repetition. This is both in the lyrics (don’t repeat yourself in comedy unless you’re adding new context, and yes, this means writing new lyrics for each chorus) and in staging (I lost count of how many times the SA guy scratched his arse, how many times girls adjusted their tits, and how many skits ended with or involved someone giving two fingers.)

Fourth, too much repetition. This is both in the lyrics (don’t repeat yourself in comedy unless you’re adding new context, and yes, this means writing new lyrics for each chorus) and in staging (I lost count of how many times the SA guy scratched his arse, how many times girls adjusted their tits, and how many skits ended with or involved someone giving two fingers.)

See? Not funny. Neither is the third time Cameron/Fagin says "Maybe it's time to revive Miss Saigon." That's your second chorus. Your first is to comment on the upcoming Hair revival, the third is to change costume pieces and suggest Cats. See, it builds from happening to "Please no" to "Anything but that."

Anyhow, clearly there’s an audience for this sort of thing - after all, they packed the Menier for Forbidden Broadway - but despite the money and attention being thrown at it, Jest End remains on the wrong side of amateurish, feeling more like something being put on for friends (who seemed to make up most of the not sparse but not full house last night) rather than, you know, an actual paying audience.

REVIEW: “Faithless Bitches”

2009-11-12T23:05:00.002Z

I’m still quite busy and exhausted, but this one merits some commentary. If nothing else because it’s been 45 minutes since I left Faithless Bitches and I have yet to fully comprehend what I’ve seen. In fact, let’s handle this with a simple checklist of things I consider when I see a play at the theatre:

Script

Direction

Acting

Lighting

Set Design

Costumes

Production

Now let’s assign adjectives for all of them as they relate to Faithless Bitches:

Script - Puerile. Bad. Awful. Advertised as “camp” but goes beyond camp, insults proper trash (John Waters would reject this script), and firmly resides somewhere between “Naruto cosplay skit” and “Lowest ranked submission in an amateur playwriting competition.”

What’s it about?

70’s softcore starlet Chesty is dead, her friends and fellow softcore washouts Pam and Monique start fighting at her funeral over the fact that Monique stole Pam’s leading role in the mainstream film Faithless Bitches. Of course, Pam stole Monique’s man, who is the father of her son and the son is fucking her male co-star in the film. Monique finds all this out from Angel Delight, the new hot young thang, and the love polygon unravels. Oh and there’s the lesbian producer behind Faithless Bitches manipulating everything. See the potential for something interesting there? Me too. Too bad none of it ended up in the script. Lame jokes, no character development, plotholes, directionless plot twists, you name it this thing fails at it. Big time.

Direction/Acting - Flat. One-Dimensional. Amateur. Not that the script offers much depth to characterise, but this goes beyond 70’s softcore acting (or even 70’s hardcore acting - Deep Throat is a damn entertaining movie even if you skip the actual sex scenes.) Director Harold Finley doesn’t know where to pull the comedic timing from, which is only a minor problem given that he wrote the bloody thing. Especially bad in the acting department (since the website lacks names) were the annoying twink/queen playing Monique’s son, the almost as vapid boyfriend, and the overdone Spanish/Hispanic/Italian/Who knows what he is because he’s called every epithet for it husband. Oh and Angel and Debbie Blake the supporting characters. And Pam during her breakdown. The actress playing Monique almost gets away with it because old bitches deserve some respect. But I can’t respect her for doing this given that she’s probably stuck on profit share.

Lighting - Nonexistent. Useless. There was lighting? Besides the projections telling us what the locations were (hint to the writer: We shouldn’t need to be told what the locations are) that nobody could see unless they were in the front row.

Set Design - Overcomplicated. Too clever for its own good. Some of the set changes, mostly moving around the coffin/table, took longer than the scenes that the set was changed for. See also: direction.

Costumes - Ugly. Unflattering. Fugly. Monique’s final dress. The semi-sheer shirts. The bad shirt choices in general. Pam’s dress at the top of the second act. BAD.

Production - Wasted. Failure. Faithless Bitches did a promo at West End Live. It was seen by 10,000 people. It was done too early and made no impact (other than to place doubts in my mind as to whether or not the show would be good - should have trusted my instinct). They had a huge cardboard stand thing for it earlier at the Courtyard. And it ended up where? In the studio.

So, to the producer of Faithless Bitches, this is for you: My email address is on the side. I’m working on a couple projects that could really use some development and enhancement money, and it’s clear that you’ve got a few thousand Pounds to burn or at the very least need some tax write-offs. And I want to put up a new production of Hedwig.

To everyone else: Faithless Bitches is a play with a message, and the message is BEWARE. This is not a play for seeing. This is a play for forgetting about and avoiding. Seriously. It almost makes Ernie Get Your Gun look competent by comparison.

NEWS: Hiatus

2009-10-23T10:47:00.002+01:00

Sorry for the lack of updates recently, but things are getting quite busy over here in RZ land. I am still getting to the theatre but press work is picking up a bit, plus I have two shows to work on in the pipeline for January and February and all of that is demanding my writing attention over blogging. Do keep in touch if you're a regular, as I am still getting to the theatre and can always use more people to go with. Everyone else....sorry, very tired.

NOTES: "My Real War 1914-?"

2009-10-14T12:36:00.003+01:00

As we enter poppy season, it's not uncommon for culture to turn its own eye towards the military and the sacrifices made by countless numbers of young men (and more recently women) for their country. The soldier's tale, one of mud and sweat and death, maintains both a fascinating and horrific look at the best and worst of humanity at once, and the utmost respect is due to anybody who signs up for the job.

Constructed around the letters of one Lieutenant Le Mesurier (his first name is conspicuously absent from the publicity materials), My Real War 1914-? is a superbly created one-man show (Le Mesurier, or Lem, is stunningly played by Philip Desmeules). Largely educational, intensely personal, and appropriately brief (80 minutes no interval), it is a pity that the text and performance are undermined by some unnecessary voiceovers and at times unnecessary or misused projections.

That said, I wish the schoolgroup who came to see Othello had seen this instead. The Great War is such a vital part of the English conscious that our pitiful turnout (some 20 people in Studio 2) was a disgrace to performance and memory alike.

REVIEW: The Author

2009-10-05T12:34:00.001+01:00

(Warning, massive spoilers ahead.)

The fourth wall is a barrier which the theatre has long been trying to both preserve and break, often simultaneously. For audiences, it’s a psychological safety curtain, separating us from the proceedings onstage and allowing us to emotionally engage without risk. For performers, the fourth wall can provide boundaries for performance, keeping a focus on the stage and not in the house. But then there’s promenade and interactive pieces, which have no walls, talking directly to the audience and making them as much a part of the show as the cast or the text.

The Author is all about breaking down the fourth wall. And the others. Looking at a play from four perspectives (two actors, author Tim Crouch who plays himself, and an audience member), The Author is about the walls we construct inside and outside of the theatre. About preserving our distance. About keeping it safe. About things not being safe.

For example, there is no actual stage. The four cast members are seated around amongst two sets of facing seats. Audience members are constantly talked to, pointed at, and referenced. And, in the cast of Adrian, are something that author Crouch clearly finds annoying: he talks about seeing everything, worshipping actors, and offers Maltesers to others. The events, told in a broken way resembling a group therapy session, revolve around one of Tim’s plays: a hyper-violent piece about wartime abuse which ends with Adrian being attacked by Vic, an actor who let the role get to him, at the stage door. Meanwhile Tim breaks down after months of researching torture videos by having a wank to a video of a baby sucking on a penis while actress Esther’s own infant is in the same room.

Needless to say, the audiences is taken out of their comfort zone. As someone who loathes audience participation and prefers to sit stoically in the back, I had the mis(?)fortune of ending up seated behind Crouch as he delivered the climactic tale. So much for that.

Personal squickiness aside, The Author is a brainy and challenging work in its themes often let down in execution: the dialogue is primarily “I” statements, there are odd pauses for non-beneficial lighting cues, and the events are far more interesting than the characters who lived them: Esther is a stereotypically shallow actress who thinks she’s deeper than she is, Vic is a big softie who keeps playing the hard man, Tim is suicidal, and if I’d been sitting near Adrian I’d have probably resorted to violence to keep him from talking. But as a fan gone pro, it’s an unavoidable reaction: we were Adrians at one point before we grew the hell up in order to be taken seriously.

So should you see The Author? I guess, if you’re the “I’m more fringe than you” sort or you like ticking extreme content boxes. Me, I’m a traditionalist, happy to let the action stay far, far away.

Addendum: I also have to take away points from the Royal Court (despite the fact that they were kind enough to supply a press ticket) for how much I loathe their bar. Sloane Square is not the easiest place to find an affordable pre-theatre meal (unless you come early enough to justify the walk to the Stockpot down Kings Road), and trying to even get a packet of crisps at the theatre is like fighting through an angry mob with the pre-Enron traffic. There’s nowhere to stand without getting jostled around like socks in the washing machine, and the more substantive bar offers disappear immediately, leaving people who come for the late show with empty stomachs and fuller wallets.

NOTES: A quick catch up....

2009-09-25T18:44:00.002+01:00

Saw two more shows this week, don't really need to go into detail on either of them....

Come Back to the 5 and Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean - if you like Steel Magnolias, Mystic Pizza, Beaches, and the like, you'll love this early 80's play about small town women in a James Dean fan club who meet up after 20 years to reminisce and reveal secrets. The production is up to the Gatehouse's usual high standards, though the show itself wasn't really my thing - but I'm also not the target audience.

The Rat Pack - Live from Las Vegas - Is it me or is this show constantly on tour around the UK and the continent? I guess it's true that you can't stop a good tribute band, as again we have a well performed piece with impersonators doing Frank, Dean, and Sammy. The music is legendary and nice, the banter is VERY much a product of its era, politically incorrect in every way ("Did you say Jew-Jitsu? How would you like it if I called you a wop-sicle?") but you can't help but laugh. The audience ate it up, I would have been happier if it was a 105 minute one-act instead of a full two and a half hours, but again, not the target audience.

Seeing Newsrevue tonight.

THOUGHTS: “Over the Threshold”

2009-09-23T13:11:00.000+01:00

The post-Edinburgh transfer season is upon us as all of the shows with decent reviews rush to get bookings before casts disperse, pockets run dry, and hype evaporates following awards and critical acclaim.

Over the Threshold is no exception: Originally participating in and subsequently developed by the Perfect Pitch, Threshold won MTM’s best score award at the Fringe this year and has so far a number of 4 and 5 star reviews. Needless to say, it’s only natural that Threshold would come to the big smoke, settling into the cozy Jermyn Street Theatre.

What I don’t, however, is WHY. As in “Why is there so much hype around this show?” This isn’t to say that Christopher Hamilton’s book and score are bad - because they’re not - but why are people getting so excited about it? Yes, Threshold is thoroughly competent and professional, but it never, well, goes over the threshold into becoming special. Or even interesting.

Over the course of 75 minutes, two couples fight, have accidental partner swaps, and deal with the aftermath. Scottish Tom and Kate are new in London, he’s an out of work actor and she gave it up to be a stable office manager. They fight about commitment, his low libido, and whether or not he should move into a real job.

I can’t even remember the other two characters’ names, other than the prattish Englishman in an overly shiny suit and his American wife who spews words of comfort and wisdom while keeping secrets of her own. None of the characters are particularly special, deep, or exciting, and the misunderstandings lack the gravity of serious drama and the humour of farce.

The score, sadly, is equally plain. All of the songs are pleasant, but if you think you’ve heard it before on your Jason Robert Brown or Scott Allan CDs, not to mention about 80% of the shows that go through Perfect Pitch in general, you wouldn’t be too far off. There’s little variation in the tunes, just a lot of introspective mid-tempo piano ballads that wouldn’t be helped by a fuller orchestra because there’s nowhere for them to go.

That said, I can’t fault the cast: all four members (whose names I don’t have down by role) are clearly talented and deliver the material as best they can, bringing what little life the show has, but they’re also encumbered by John Brant’s direction. Brant wants very much to be smart, but the limited abstract set (a few half-doorways and some clear chairs) instead inspired an internal logic which demands cast members wander through a maze of paths to go on and off stage as though the audience know the floorplans to the theoretical flats the characters occupy. It’s distracting and sloppy, realism be damned.

In short, I guess Over the Threshold won awards and got decent reviews for being bland and inoffensive: it’s hard to find fault with something that sits so squarely in the middle. I’m genuinely thrilled for the creatives - finding the money to get ANYTHING up at Edinburgh and back to London so quickly is a monumental task in and of itself - but this was really the best that was on offer at the Fringe?

THOUGHTS: “Kurt and Sid”

2009-09-20T16:31:00.002+01:00

(Sorry for the lack of updates, everyone. I’ve been rather busy lately working on my own shows lately - one of which is part of Scratch Festival at BAC this coming weekend - and writing those has drained me of my ability to bother writing reviews. That said, here goes a try...)

I remember when Kurt Cobain died. Nirvana had been the hottest band around, and though I didn’t have a copy of Nevermind, my sister had picked up a used CD of In Utero, sneaking it in past our mother’s overzealous eye (electric guitars in general were too much for her.) I remembered the controversy over the cover art and “Rape Me,” the brilliance of the MTV Unplugged performance, and how my 8th grade lit teacher told us that Cobain should never have been a role model because of his drugs and emphasised the pointlessness of the “Life’s not 100% fun anymore” line in the suicide note.

As someone who hated his classmates and most of his teachers, I thought she was full of shit. And I still do.

So now in Trafalgar 2 we have Kurt and Sid, a fantasia set in the hours before Cobain’s suicide. A frustrated Kurt is in the attic of his suburban home when the vision of Sid Vicious appears. To cut 95 minutes (including interval) short, this Sid (who is, as he puts it, “way too smart” to be the real Sid) is Cobain’s subconscious attempting to talk him out of the act. That’s about as close to a spoiler as anybody can really get, because we all know how it’s going to end.

Needless to say, I found myself asking what the point is (and doing my best not to ask the author, who was in attendance). Cobain’s life has been covered in numerous biographies, and his own journals are available at bookstores everywhere, and for less than the price of a ticket. There’s some witty banter in Roy Smiles’s script, but no real insight: Cobain’s relationship with Courtney Love was idealised with no mention of the two’s constant fighting, his medical issues are written off, and he comes across as the media slanted him 15 years ago: a whiny poster-boy ungrateful for his fame and taking an easy way out.

Production-wise, there are few complaints: Shaun Evans has Cobain’s signature drawl though he never quite channels the real thing’s complexity, and Danny Dyer is a calm yet verbally feisty Vicious both in and out of reality. Cordelia Chisholm’s set is a cluttered attic strewn with toys and records, the old cliche about a cluttered mind come appropriately to life.

Complaints aside, I’m glad I saw Kurt and Sid - the rising alternative rock scene was one of the best parts of the 90's, and we're about to hit that on the global nostalgia cycle. That said, I’m also glad that I didn’t pay for it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to soak up "Jesus Don’t Want Me For A Sunbeam."

NOTE: "I'll Leave It To You"

2009-09-01T11:56:00.001+01:00

I've left this way too long to properly review it, but fans of Noel Coward should make it a point to catch his first play, the drawing room comedy "I'll Leave It To You" at Pentameters. Lots of fun, not too long (2 hr 10 INCLUDING two intervals), and brilliantly cast and performed.

REVIEW: Credit Crunch Queen

2009-08-20T11:38:00.001+01:00

The great thing about August is how laid back the theatre is in London: soft openings, short runs, and all sorts of fun things for theatre companies who can’t justify the costs of going to Edinburgh and for audiences who can’t justify the effort of going to Edinburgh either. In this case, it meant catching Jackie Skarvellis’s new play Credit Crunch Queen during its tryout at Pentameters before it transfers to the Stag this week.

Now, I consider an excuse to go to Pentameters to be a great thing: the staff are extremely friendly, they have a loyal audience of locals from inside and outside the industry, and the space has the right blend of run-down charm and hipness to make it an appealing location to watch a show. Sure the bar downstairs is expensive, but that’s why Tesco Express is across the street. Oh, and it’s a half hour walk from my house. Hard to beat that.

Except when you have this dead horse of a play. A rapid-fire response to the economic downturn, CCQ starts with high flying banker Brad Bradshaw being let go from his cushy city job before rapidly losing his live-in gold-digging girlfriend and flat. After quickly finding himself on the wrong side of the DWP, Brad moves in with a struggling (and awful) actress, ultimately being made over by one of her friends (played by John Campbell aka drag queen Ebb-on-Knee) and hitting the drag circuit to make ends meet.

Unfortunately, the idea is much funnier on paper than in practice. The main subplot, involving the actress whose name I can’t remember taking Brad’s dog Rambo (played by a rather attractive fellow in leather gear) through an X-Factor programme for pets brings the story to a crashing halt: it feels quickly written and tacked on as though Ms. Skarvellis realised that her original idea wouldn’t fill two acts. Given that the Pet Factor arc dominates the second act, a one-act would have been a better idea - especially given how long it takes to actually get to the title story of Brad’s entry into drag.

As such, what could have been a rags to new riches story or a fish out of water tale with the straight posh bloke entering the seedy gay club scene is instead a parade of flaccid jokes, saved only when Campbell camps it up and when Shonni Doulton appears as the health and safety obsessed DWP worker whom Brad attempts to dupe in the name of getting unemployment benefits. Much like the sentence above, the play uses a lot of words to say very little. And there is the rub: that of wasted potential. And therein comes the other August tradition: putting in anything to fill your house until post-Edinburgh tours come in.

Where: Above the Stag
When: Until early September. The website isn’t updated yet.
How Much: £12 at Pentameters. May be different at the Stag.
Concessions: £10 at Pentameters. May be different at the Stag.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £2 for some eye candy and three funny scenes.
RZ Other Notes: None.

NOTES: Lazy update

2009-08-17T11:31:00.000+01:00

A list of shows that I have recently seen but been too busy, lazy, or forgetful to write up properly:

Hello, Dolly! @ Regents Park - Fantastic revival. See it.

Helen @ Shakespeare’s Globe - Great cast, decent translation, but the overall production fails to gel and feels amateurish, like a BA designed and directed class project. See it from the yard.

State Fair @ Finborough - Easily one of the dumbest shows of the golden age, decently staged by Thom Southerland, though his continued lack of eye for detail is annoying. See it but make sure to bring water - it’s unbearably hot in the theatre.

Ernie Get Your Gun (Revisited) - Just as bad the second time around with a different Rex. We went, we mocked, we congratulated the cast on their freedom.

Confusions @ Union Theatre - Five Ayckbourn shorts. Fun night out, see it.

We Go Wandering at Night @ Cock Tavern - Not quite sure how the name fits in. There’s some decent bits and some annoying bits, but it’s amusing. Can’t remember if it’s still running, if it is then see it with a discount.

Jason and the Argonauts @ Scoop, More London - Free family friendly version of this Greek classic. Lots of fun, good atmosphere with the crowd. Bring a cushion and a picnic and enjoy.

BONUS: 20 Musicals for the 2000’s

2009-08-05T15:01:00.001+01:00

With the decade ending in a mere four months and little of inspiration (unless the final book for White Noise is somehow stunningly brilliant) from either the US or the UK, so we can start on these tributes to the naughts.

The list and commentary below reflect 20 new works of musical theatre which opened between 2000 and 2009 in a 1st class (read: Broadway/West End/Major Level) venue and provided either a major contribution or simply serve as the most memorable works of the decade. This isn’t to discount smaller productions, but this is one for the big boys. It’s in no particular order than rough chronology.

Also, I suck for not knowing more about original works coming out of Asia.

2000 - Contact (Broadway)
Starting out with a controversial bang is Susan Stroman’s dance play which, famously, won the Tony award for Best Musical despite not having a score: the music was played from CD and nobody in the cast sung. Still, with sequences like Simply Irresistible, it’s easy to see the piece’s allure and its strengths overcome the technicalities.

2000 - Aida (Broadway)
Elton John’s first musical (The Lion King doesn’t really count, that was all music for the film), and Disney’s first show which wasn’t an adapted from a cartoon.

2001 - The Producers (Broadway)
Winner of more Tony awards than any other show, The Producers can be seen as the touchstone of the film adaptation craze, although its flaws became increasingly visible with time and uninspired casting.

2001 - Urinetown (Broadway)
The first of the modern meta-musicals, we arguably wouldn’t have pieces like The Drowsy Chaperone or [title of show] without this little piddle which managed to go from the New York Fringe Festival all the way to Broadway. It also deserves points for the score’s satirical take on Weil.

2002 - We Will Rock You (West End)
The only show from the decade which can well and truly be called critic-proof (Wicked didn’t exactly get glowing reviews but WWRY was roundly trashed). WWRY shows that jukebox shows can have smart concepts, stunning design, and pack in the houses around the world.

2002 - Hairspray (Broadway)
The show which all fluff musicals are now judged against. O’Donnell, Meehan, Whittman, and Shaiman turned John Waters’ tamest film into a stage show which captures both the joy of the musical along with Waters’ sense of humour and anarchy in presentation. Too bad the film remake is so awful.

2002 - Jerry Springer: The Opera (London Subsidised/West End)
The most controversial musical to ever premiere in Britain, Springer spends its first act turning the freak show that is daytime television into a portrayal of tragic victims of their own making while sending up its inspirational material before pointing out that similar characters are to be found everywhere in society.

2003 - Wicked (Broadway)
We Will Rock You may have more international productions, but Wicked is the first show since RENT that can truly be described as a phenomenon.

2003 - Avenue Q (Broadway)
And then there’s the little show that could - proving that charm, wit, and truth (along with a savvy marketing campaign) can upset even the biggest juggernaut. For the recently graduated and those turned out by the current recession, Avenue Q speaks directly to the audience in a way few shows can.

2004 - Caroline, or Change (Broadway)
Despite being spurned in New York, Caroline has become a favourite in the regions and was vindicated with raves and an Olivier award for Best Musical in London. Tony Kushner’s tale of an impoverished Black maid working for a Jewish family in turmoil is a pressure cooker of a character piece backed by Jeanine Tesori’s masterwork of a score that reveals more of its depth with each new production and take on the title character.

2004 - In My Life (Broadway)
One of only two flops on this list, In My Life is the ultimate in vanity projects: written, directed, scored, and produced by creator Joe Brooks, In My Life was a bizarre look at heaven and Earth, of love and loss, and of gay angels singing about brain tumours. In all seriousness, In My Life is the best disaster I’ve ever seen - there’s plenty of good stuff in there and the hilarious awfulness of the rest guarantees that it’s never boring with a surprisingly coherent internal logic.

2005 - 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (Broadway)
William Finn’s contribution for the decade, Spelling Bee is another intimate show that bucked the odds through savvy producing and a brilliant mix of audience participation and emotional honesty. There are some people out there who will hate me for including this instead of Grey Gardens, but everybody has felt like a Barfee or an Olive at some point, whereas I have never felt like a crazy screaming cat lady.

2005 - Billy Elliot (West End)
The only British mega-musical to conquer London *and* Broadway this decade. The Woman in White tried, but failed to come together, whereas Elton John’s take on striking coal miners and dancing youngsters hit a chord with West End audiences still embittered 15 years after Thatcher and its feel good underdog story resonates with Americans.

2005 - The Light in the Piazza (Broadway)
Adam Guetell’s most successful score to date, and the show many hold up as the great art musical of recent years.

2006 - The Harder They Come (London Subsidised)
This is cheating a bit, mostly so that I could get in a 2006 show in English (the show didn’t go to a proper big venue until 2008), this is the first musical in Britain with an all-Black creative team and cast.

2006 - Rebecca (Vienna)
Michael Kunze reunites with long-term writing partner Sylvester Levay, shifting away from their preference for historicals to adapt Daphne DuMaurier’s legendary novel of broken affairs. A stunning score with beautiful lyrics and the best show to come from the German-speaking regions since...well...Kunze’s last show (Tanz der Vampire)

2007 - Spring Awakening (Broadway)
A hit thanks to sweeping the Tony awards, Spring takes Frank Wedekind’s classic play and hurls it into the present and shows that perhaps we haven’t become as progressive as we might think. Bonus points for an actual pop-rock composer (Duncan Sheik) providing the score. We need more people from the Billboard charts in the theatre.

2008 - Passing Strange (Broadway)
Stew may not be a big name, but his introspective tale of a middle-class Black youth on an international journey of self-discovery was the art-rocker choice from the 2007-2008 season and with the upcoming film will hopefully find a further life in regional and international productions.

2008 - In The Heights (Broadway)
The first Hispanic-focused musical on Broadway and another reminder that Kevin McCollum knows how to pick shows from up-and-coming talent and stands by his choices and faith: nobody thought Heights would last three months on Broadway after mixed reviews off-Broadway, but it wound up winning Best Musical.

2009 - Next to Normal (Broadway)
A fully realised American family drama as a nearly sung-through musical, Normal uses our reactions to mental illness to look at the fallacies of the nuclear family with a catchy, intelligent score. There’s no flinching from pain or singing one’s way to happiness here, and it hits all the harder because of it.

*Whew*

Discuss/argue/debate.

REVIEW: “Hot Air”

2009-08-03T16:14:00.001+01:00

It’s nice getting asked to see shows before they go to Edinburgh: you get the drop on the Scotsman critic in finding a gem or a disaster.

Sadly, Ten Pence Short’s new play Hot Air is quite firmly in the latter. Written by and starring (a combination that NEVER goes well in a multi-hander unless a top creator is involved) Laura Cairns, Hot Air advertises itself as a “hard-hitting debut” but in truth it’s about as hard-hitting as a birthday balloon filled with its titular commodity. While director and PR rep Nick Bruckman says that changes may be made before the festival opening, they go up this week and there isn’t time for the full rewrite necessary to turn this into an outright comedy or a thriller.

At this point I’m going to apologise. Not to anybody who worked on the play, for you all deserve what’s about to come, but to Matt Boothman, who reviewed the show for London Theatre Blog. Mr. Boothman managed to get a cast and crew list, which I am shamelessly pulling from his review, as nobody gave me anything like that. Take ten pence for bad press relations there. But yeah. Sorry Matt if I unconsciously pull any of your lines while skimming for names.

So anyways, Ms. Cairns has something of a half-decent concept: two women meet outside a house at the crack of dawn after planning a robbery on a website for house raiders. There’s potential in this idea, but it’s wasted in a script full of throwaway sequences and endless babbling from Alice Dooley’s chattering Elizabeth and Ms. Cairns’ uptight superpunctual Scot Margot. We don’t really find out why the site they met on was organised in the first place (other than the leader supposedly gets nothing from it), Margot’s handle, or any real depth about the characters. And why the song at the end? It’s padding and needs to go - the audience will be grateful for a chance to escape three minutes sooner.

Is it funny that Margot has a fetish for old men’s clothes? For about 10 seconds, and it’s certainly creative, but hardly a plot twist. But we never find out why she feels the need to break into dead peoples’ houses for them rather than, say, order cheap remnants on eBay or raid the charity shops. At least Elizabeth’s silver obsession is practical for a thief. After 15 minutes I wanted to smack down Elizabeth or watch them break down a door, but anybody who expects something to, you know, actually happen will be disappointed: nothing does and the big plot twist (since nobody should waste their time on this script) is that the raid is called off as the occupant isn’t dead but miraculously recovering in hospital.

In the end, this is a first draft which desperately needs a dramaturge to refine it into something interesting with a point and a message. It’s not fun enough to be a pub and a pint kind of play and it’s not serious or smart enough to make you think or engage the audience on a deeper level. But with some good rewrites, it may make a decent Afternoon Play on Radio 4.....eventually.

Where/When: Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Not doing prices, etc.

REVISIT: Hans Teeuwen

2009-08-03T14:32:00.000+01:00

I first came into contact with Hans Teeuwen last year when he played at Battersea Arts Centre following his Edinburgh run and in advance of a Dutch TV taping at the Leicester Square Theatre. At the time I was amused and slightly puzzled, but further research AFTER the show was rather enlightening: once you understand that he’s all about how much he can fuck with the audience, it all becomes significantly funnier, and this year’s triumphant return to BAC in advance of Edinburgh, brings about an almost entirely new show - at least to English speakers.

Opening with a twisted tribute to Michael Jackson, Teeuwen takes us through his usual targets: death, religion (the subject of a brilliant Shaggy Dog story), hand puppets, and lots of crude songs including one number, complete with audience participation, entitled “I Like Your Cunt.” One old bit to return, Dr. Hemmington, is better than ever, and comes complete with contortions.

Overall, Teeuwen’s new show is significantly tighter and more in tune with British tastes, and even his longer shaggy dog bits include more sub-jokes and move at a snappier pace, keeping the audience dancing about at the end of his line eagerly awaiting the punch-line’s knife at the end. This isn’t to say that Teeuwen is to everybody’s taste (we had two walk-outs), those who find him funny will love this new show while haters are unlikely to be converted here.

But consider me shifted from tentative to excited. Here’s hoping he works the UK for a long time to come.

NOTES: Nun the Wiser

2009-08-03T14:31:00.001+01:00

(Another short Edinburgh preview review)

Triona Adams was a high price hobnobbing theatrical agent, booking clients into the National and attending premieres and power lunches, but after a weekend retreat at a convent, she connected with her Catholic heritage and ultimately spent a year as a nun in training, which is the focus of the piece. The piece has its laughs and some memorable stories, and Ms. Adams certainly delivers it with conviction, but Nun the Wiser is an amusing diversion and not a side splitter or heavy hitting piece.

NOTES: Sammy J & The Forest of Dreams

2009-08-03T14:27:00.000+01:00

(A Scotsman-length review as this was an Edinburgh preview)

An adult musical wherein a character in the dumps learns a lesson with puppets. Yeah, Avenue Q did it first and does it more honestly and better, but there’s still plenty of funny bits in Australian two-hander Sammy J & The Forest of Dreams including opening song “Fuck You, Disney,” a hyperactive squirrel, and two absurd birds. There’s some smart puppetry, such as a brilliant bisection, and the jokes consistently hit their targets. Well worth seeing at festival rates.

NOTES: Spike Milligan’s Adolf Hitler: My Part in his Downfall

2009-07-31T15:38:00.001+01:00

(Been crazy busy this week between going to the theatre, going out with friends, and working on some original writing projects so I fell waaaaaaay behind in getting reviews up. This and the follow-up piece are as much reminders that I saw the things as actual reviews.)

Long time favourite of the British comedy and radio scene, much has been made of Spike Milligan’s experiences in the Second World War. From his delayed entry to his role as the battery’s joker to his ultimate discharge after suffering PTSD upon failing a suicide run, the play is an inventive, energetic adaptation of Milligan’s memoirs that’s well acted, well sung (there’s actor-musos), and includes some clever design. The first act, despite being shorter, feels a few minutes too long (it needs to lose about 3-4 minutes) though it lets out just at the point where “feeling long” turns into “actually going to check my watch.”

In other words, there’s actually something decent on at the Hampstead. Not that it’s too surprising when you see that it’s actually a production by the Bristol Old Vic making an extended stop before going out on tour. Do see it, the tickets are reasonably priced and you can get a nice coffee beforehand.

REVIEW: Quadrophenia

2009-07-25T23:41:00.003+01:00

(This is the site’s 200th post.)

In 1973, The Who released an album that would change the world forever, influencing rock contemporaries and spreading through the ages, ultimately resurfacing in the grunge movement (Eddie Vedder cited it as a primary influence), jam bands (Phish covered it in full at a Halloween gig), and even pop-punk (American Idiot).

That album, was, of course, Quadrophenia (duh, it’s in the post title) and it is, without a doubt, one of the greatest works in the history of rock music. A densely layered concept piece, Quad bridges The Who’s definitive loud sound - everybody plays lead on every song - with the synths, strings, and musical complexity of the burgeoning progressive movement. Quad’s beauty lies in its ability to harness these sounds without giving in to the pretentiousness of prog: this is an album about the explosion of a movement, of violently encountering the transition from youth to adulthood, and of desperately trying to find oneself in the world. It’s bleak, harsh, and yet spiritual, ending with the potential for hope.

Like Tommy and the abandoned Lifehouse project, Quadrophenia tells something of a bizarre story as only The Who could get away with. It’s 1964, and a lad of 16 named Jimmy is leaving school, getting a well paying but distinctly working class job, and spending his money on the speed and fashions required to stay in with the mod scene that he follows but never quite connects to. As his life begins to deteriorate, Jimmy finds himself split into four personas modeled on the members of The Who: a tough guy (Roger Daltrey), a romantic (John Entwistle), a nutter (Keith Moon), and what’s labeled a hypocrite but really more of an ineffectual and observer (Pete Townshend, who wrote and scored the entire album.)

When things hit bottom at home at the end of the first disc, Jimmy takes off for mod central in Brighton, only to find his solace shattered in the off-season with the city nearly deserted and after a disappointing encounter with one of his heroes.

It sounds simple, but deciphering the story in full requires reading the album’s liner notes or seeing a video of the 1996-1997 tour with its linking narration. The songs themselves give little away, reflecting emotion and a personal journey but not providing a wider frame of context. It’s of little surprise, therefore, that when Quadrophenia was turned into a film in 1979 that much of the original story (and music) was discarded. It also guarantees that fans familiar with the film but not the album are going to be completely lost at Quadrophenia, the musical.

Returning to roots, the stage Quadrophenia dispenses with any sort of dialogue and sticks to the music and attempts to tell its story through lyric and dance. As suggested above, this is quite an undertaking, especially as the original double album is just over 85 minutes and the production truncates one song (“I’ve Had Enough”) and cuts the second leitmotiv instrumental (“The Rock”), which brings the story to a head on vinyl. Making up the runtime are seven early Who songs, some of which were brought out of cold storage for the film, and reset into context. For those familiar with the album, the additions in the second act will feel like padding. For everyone else, they’re going to fit right in. Either way, the added tracks add a sense of authenticity to the period - Quad is very much later Who, and doesn’t sound like anything from 1964.

But does the adaptation actually work? For the most part, yes. Pete Townshend himself has contributed to and supervised director Tom Critchley’s adaptation, teaching the cast about the period and ensuring that his vision is accurately represented, much as he did with the original Broadway production of Tommy. This isn’t to say there aren’t problems (more below), but overall the show is stunningly true to the spirit of the album and it bursts across the stage in a whirlwind of sound and fury.

First and foremost, John O’Hara’s orchestrations are stunning. Adapting the score for nine pieces (2 keys / 2 guitars / 2 strings / bass / drums / brass), the music gains a level of undercurrent for the motiv structure to shine through and guaranteeing that the music is appropriately loud. It’s also a tribute to Jason Barnes’s sound design that the cast are still able to be heard over the blaring band without ever getting painful to hear and without the muffled and echo-y tones of most tours (and touring venues).

Credit also goes to Frances Newman for her excited, visceral choreography and Carl Perry for the costumes so stylish as to remind us in one shot why the mods looked so damn cool: I left the theatre wanting one of Jimmy’s marked up parkas, even if the revivalist/torch carrying mods of here and now find the garment passé and stereotypical.

So where’s the big problem? Well, as I mentioned before, the story can be obtuse, and while the staging brings it to life as much as possible, it doesn’t always manage to make sense of itself on stage. One reason for this is the presence of a Young Jimmy representing the whole id, who struck me as somewhat superfluous. There’s also some time jumping in an attempt to clarify some lyrics in the face of onstage happenings which would be a spoiler to reveal here. Sophie Khan’s set doesn’t help much either: there’s a sofa for the first few scenes, a revolve, and a giant ring in the second act. The band are visible on a two tiered cage at the back for a couple of cast members to climb on, but otherwise the location prompts are determined by how much the viewer is paying attention to the lyrics. Clubs are easy, a solo moment on a pier not so much.

Another, more pressing issue, is in the portrayal of Jimmy’s personalities: all four are played by different actors in identical clothes. The technique is engaging and works as the situation shifts from Ryan O’Donnel’s romantic reaching out to others to George Maguire’s tough guy fighting with his father (John Schumacher), but it can be difficult to tell the four apart, especially when Maguire is physically very similar to ineffectual Jimmy Rob Kendrick and maintains similar body language. Jack Roth’s lunatic tends to slouch and keep a worrying grin, and Ryan O’Donnell keeps a saddened look most of the time though he too blends into the others at times. A second viewing made it easier to work out who was who at times, but the majority of visitors won’t make the effort.

Confusion aside, all four of the lads - three of whom have been with the production since workshop - are fierce to watch as are the rest of the cast including Kevin Wathen who stands out as The Godfather, singing most of the early Who numbers and Sydney Rae White as the abstract Girl.

At the end of the day, the weaknesses of the piece are, in their own way, amplifying its strengths. The abstract nature of the story and focus on internalised conflict make it a universal tale of putting behind childish things, not unlike Spring Awakening, but better. It’s like the class braniac gut punching the captain of the rugby team at graduation. And it’s absolutely bloody brilliant.

Where: Touring until 3 October. Check the show website for details.
When: Tu-Sa, Fr/Sa are two show days.
How Much: Varies by stop. Tickets were £7.50-£28 when I saw the show.
Concessions: Varies by stop. ATG theatres are doing twofers for members on some nights.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £30. It’s worth every penny to hear the music performed live though some may find the story difficult to follow.
RZ Other Notes: This is not a traditional show for musical queens. One such person posted on a message board that she hated the show - it was too loud for her taste, and when asked what she was expecting confessed that she’d never listened to The Who before and didn’t care for serious rock in general. Her loss. While I doubt that Quadrophenia will convert fans of traditional MT fare to The Who, much as We Will Rock You is unlikely to convert haters to Queen, I can only hope that people do give it a try because it really is that brilliant.

I’m also sad that the tour has apparently been cut short - early press implied that the show would go until November, including stops in Milton Keynes and Wimbledon, which would have been incredibly convenient. Now I have to debate going down to Brighton (relevant but mostly sold out) or somewhere a good distance from London if I want to see it again before it ends - sales have varied location to location but are nowhere good enough to suggest that a West End transfer would be profitable.

Oh, and why the hell didn’t someone get the cast on T4 to promote this show? It’s still incredibly relevant 35 years after the album came out.

RE-VISIT: “We Will Rock You”

2009-07-24T11:14:00.001+01:00

I’ve always been something of a defender for We Will Rock You. Yes, it’s a shameless jukebox show, and yes, Ben Elton’s script isn’t nearly as good or as smart as it could (or should) be, but you can tell that they made a serious effort to create something interesting and it’s paid off. It’s also one of the first shows I reviewed on this site.

So when offered a deal I couldn’t refuse on tickets, I gladly snapped them up. And in retrospect, I was a bit harsh on my prior worth paying - only £15? What was I thinking?

Anyways, most of my prior comments stand as written, but as always, a few changes have been made and a new cast are in, so here goes again with the magic bullet points.

-Some of the background animations have been changed. They still look good, and somehow WWRY manages to be the only show to go nuts with the light boards and NOT make my eyes hurt, perhaps because the lighting in general is so damn impressive.

-Michael Jackson has been added to the list of those who died early. But where the hell is Keith Moon?

-I went on what turned out to be the night of a thousand understudies. John Boydon was again on as Galileo in the first act, playing the role as a bit more stupid and his ticks were more pronounced than I remember. His voice was also going, and he was replaced in the second act by Matthew McKenna who was excellent as Galileo’s more confident side.

-Continuing the understudy trend, TV casting reject Rachel Tucker was on as Scaramouche. To be honest, I think this is the perfect role for her. She wails on the numbers, and brings a completely new take to the role: rather than the fiesty cockney she has a heavy Scottish accent and speaks with a slow burning and intentional sarcasm. She may not be as fierce as other Scaramouches, but it works brilliantly.

-In a rare occurrence, Mazz Murray was out and Rebecca McKinnis was on as the Killer Queen. It was nice to see a new take on the role, but Ms. McKinniss didn’t do very much to make the role her own. Her voice was also on the thin side and she lacked the command presence during her songs that Ms. Murray or the original Killer Queen, Sharon D. Clarke, possessed.

-Rounding out the swings, Amanda Coutts was on in Ms. Tucker’s regular track as Meat and Rakesh Boury as Britney Spears. The duo were fine, nothing to really comment on here.

-Gary Lake is a rather crass Pop, and it’s amazing that Alex Bourne can still be excited about doing the show every night after how many years in?

-The ensemble need a dance call. Some of the choreography was out of sync and you can see where bits and pieces have been revised over the years because some people do the old moves and some the new ones...

-I was off to the side in the rear stalls and the sound was an issue - the lyrics were totally drowned at times (Seven Seas of Rhye). Then again, most people are expected to know the words going in. I don’t recall having these problems when sitting in the centre, but I also didn’t note anything in the prior review so it’s hard to remember.

In short? We Will Rock You is still a fun night out for Queen fans and tourists and well worth a visit to say you’ve gone. The design aspects are still impressive, and the cast work their butts off. And dude. It’s Queen.

Where: Dominion Theatre
When: Open Run. Check listings for times.
Cost: £27.50-£60
Concessions: £20 student tickets, best left when the BO opens; £13.50 SRO when otherwise sold out
----
RZ unofficial “worth paying”: £35. Half price plus fees. It’s a very good show but a standing O pay full price no matter what show? I’m still not convinced, especially with how much better the book could be.
RZ other notes: There are a lot of tourists and “not often at the theatre” types here. They liked to go to the loo during the show. Very annoying.

REVIEW: “Blink! ...and you missed it”

2009-07-23T22:51:00.001+01:00

It seems right to post about this as a follow-up to Too Close to the Sun. After all, there’s something about us theatre folk that craves, nay, demands an obsession with revisiting failures. And on the cabaret circuit, nothing draws out the hardcore like a concert of hits from everyone’s favourite flops.

Then again, if my experience (along with Mark Shenton’s) is anything to go by, there aren’t that many hardcore to go around. At least not for a month-long run at the Stag, which may be why these things are usually one-nighters.

But I digress.

Officially, any show which is commercially produced and fails to return turn a profit to its investors is a flop. For entry into Not Since Carrie, the flop-lover’s encyclopaedia, a show needed to fail financially AND run for under 250 performances (and run before 1988, though a second volume is long rumoured to be in the works.) The shows in Blink!...vary. Some are long running financial failures, some didn’t cross the pond well, and some are just, well, there.

At this point I should really just hand things over to Mr. Shenton, as his previously linked post on Blink! matches the majority of my thoughts almost word for word. A few other bits to bullet-point though...

-The narration was heavy on the Wikipedia (lots of dates and performance counts) and lacking in any sort of useful context for the songs. If you’re highlighting shows that nobody knows, then you have to give the audience some context lest the acting be completely lost. And yes, I have written better.

-The narrative delivery also came across as too casual and a last-minute concern. I liked that it was split amongst the cast, but it was thrown off and clearly not of much concern.

-”New Music” from Ragtime was well condensed from six characters to two, but played at a turbocharged tempo, which undermines the beauty of the song. Props for trying something different, but no.

-The two medley sequences, one on UK hits/US flops and one on actor-musos, despite being the most questionable in terms of merit in a piece like this, are the most entertaining parts of the evening.

I wish I could be more positive about Blink!, but the evening found itself squarely in the realm of decency, never falling too far or rising too high. It’s amusing and fairly cheap and the bar’s not too expensive for pre/post/interval drinks. And remember, it could always be worse.

Where: Above the Stag
When: Until 16 Aug, Tu-Fr @ 19:30, Sa @ 17:30 & 20:15, Su @ 18:30
How much: £10 unreserved
Concessions: None
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £5 with an E for Effort.
RZ Other Notes: I’d give it the £10 if someone had the clever idea of including a drink with the ticket price.

REVIEW: Too Close To The Sun

2009-07-21T22:06:00.004+01:00

(EDIT: This review has been quoted by the Daily Mail!)
(ANOTHER EDIT: This review has also been quoted by the Independent!)

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Trainwreck Express is now calling at the Comedy Theatre.

I’m not sure where to go from there, really. It’s rare that such a disaster opens in the West End, and Too Close To The Sun is certainly an amusing disaster to watch as it descends further and further from shocking to abysmal to “oh no they didn’t” and beyond.

I guess we should begin at the beginning, with James Graeme coming down the stairs as Earnest Hemingway and revealing how badly his costume was measured as he lifts his arms and we see the waistband holding his mic pack. Some bad dialogue and he goes offstage, a toilet flushes, and he comes back onstage with a glass of urine which he analyses and leaves on the mantle until the end of the rather long opening scene where a stagehand removes it by the time the set swings around again.

The actual plot (in as much as there is one, and it’s all in the second act) involves a gold-digging secretary (Tammy Joelle) hoping to become wife number five, old friend and slimeball producer Rex De Havilland (Jay Benedict) trying to convince the Hollywood hating Hemingway to sell his biography rights, and wife #4 (Helen Dallimore) strutting around as mistress of the domain controlling Hemingway’s diet and setting rules for everybody while working as fast as she can to get rid of the competition for Earnest’s affections. Oh, and conveniently enough, none of Hemingway's books are actually mentioned by name. Perhaps the estate caught the foul wind of what was going on.

I should point out that the music, lyrics, and production are by the same team responsible for the infamous 2005 flop Behind the Iron Mask, if that gives any of you an idea of the quality you’re in for. The brilliant dialogue includes lines like “What are you doing now?” “Looking for a decent script.”, “What part of Popeye never rusts?” “The part he sticks on Olive Oyl.”, and there are such witty lyrics as “I was the big barricuda” and “A hoochy-cootchy Alabama way down south” a scene on where to best stick the gun muzzle when killing yourself, and the night’s big laugh moment involves Hemingway sings a ballad about being stuck in solitary silence while Rex is off being manic about the film possibilities in a half-lit part of the stage and upstaging the song.

And speaking of being half-lit, someone must be pissed at Helen Dallimore because she wasn’t lit at all in her last couple songs.

But there’s lots of reasons to be annoyed about the cast, particularly Mr. Benedict who, despite being in numerous musicals, is entirely incapable of singing this score on key. Then again, neither can anybody else - perhaps the a-lyrical lyrics (Rhymes? Metre? We don’t need those here!) and a-melodic melodies (and I don’t mean in the avant garde outsider musician sense) are to blame, given just how many blown notes and painful flats there were. Although, perhaps a comparison to outsider musicians isn’t entirely off base: the opportunities for unintended laughter easily matched those of a Florence Foster Jenkins concert, though Madam Flo had the charisma to avoid losing over half her audience at the interval. She also, wisely, stuck to a single piano and didn’t inflict Connor Mitchell’s half-decent half-wtf arrangements on an unsuspecting audience including some unfortunate children.

Many of us weren’t smart enough to leave, however (including - to quite a few surprises - the West End Whingers), and pressed on through the second act with a Blitz spirit, not willing to surrender to the pain and wanting to see just how they could top themselves next. Would the raw timbre set catch fire? Would the stuffed deer head begin talking as Earnest planned to kill himself? We still hadn’t had a geriatric sex scene, so it was an obvious thing to hope for. Ultimately we got none of those three, but we were treated to some of the worst drunken acting in ages and some pointless songs after the suicide.

In other words, the creative team from Behind the Iron Mask have provided something for everybody who missed their previous outing to tell stories about and a guaranteed entry in a West End version of Not Since Carrie. It’s tacky, ugly, and the must-see disaster of the year. Flop collectors will cherish this, though I doubt anybody else will. Those trying to go certainly shouldn’t PAY for a ticket, but freebies are out there if you look and chances are you can collect a stub from someone walking out after the first 10 minutes without missing much.

Hell, you could probably just walk right in and the ushers wouldn’t care - it’s not like the theatre’s going to be anywhere near full anyway.

Where: Comedy Theatre
When: Until 5 September. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £10-£55
Concessions: Almost certainly and Ambassador Friends can get top tickets for £20 at all performances. It’s also on lastminute for £10 and has appeared on their sales for as little as £3.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £5 for trainwreck entertainment value.
RZ Other Notes: Like with Shakespeare, tragedy can be a source of many laughs. Also consider checking with the discount booths by Leicester Square around closing time - some may have extras or promo tickets to give away.

REVIEW: “Call Me Madam”

2009-07-19T22:12:00.002+01:00

(So I usually don’t blog about shows at the Gatehouse as I’m on friendly terms with the owners. But, this isn’t an in-house production so...)

Thom Southerland is seen as one of the up and coming wunderkinds of musical theatre direction. Focusing primarily on classic musicals, he and producing partner Nick Robinson have set about bringing back the golden age classics, including the upcoming premiere of Rogers & Hammerstein’s State Fair and, at the Irving Berlin estate’s request, this production of Call Me Madam.

One of Berlin’s less-often performed works, Madam takes an oil baroness turned ambassador (a fierce Beverly Klein) and her progressive attaché (Mark Henry-Evans) and drops them into the Lichtenstein-like Dutchy of Lichtenburg. Their goal? I’m not exactly sure - when she leaves she’s told not to give them any money, which sets up her pulling out the chequebook when she finds herself attracted to local politician Cosmo Constantine but he stands firm and doesn’t take the money - at which point...her job IS to get them to take the loan and be indebted to the US through the machinations of her liason? This all made sense (I hope) in the original version, but the book was reworked here for length and cast size which has left something of a Dutchy-sized gap in the book’s logic.

Based on this viewing alone, Southerland’s reputation strikes me as...slightly misplaced. Despite his fascination with remarkably American shows (recent work including The Unsinkable Molly Brown and a version of RENT which friends told me to avoid as it was guaranteed to inspire rantage), he doesn’t always get his continuity right: cast members had no idea how to handle the flag, money was miscoloured, accents were broad, and word was that a current London newspaper was used during previews rather than anything looking period. And given that Southerland also reworked the book for this production (a necessity of a shrunken cast), did he have to leave in the constant “I’m a Republican” references? Nobody laughed at them.

In terms of getting actors in the right place and hitting their emotions? It’s fine, and Southerland made a decent go of working to the thrust's demands but there’s nothing revolutionary about the staging.

Enough moaning, though, because it was still a good time out thanks to Drew McOnie’s lively choreography along with Klein’s vivid performance (though the whole cast are lovely and free from any of the show's blame) and, of course, Berlin’s enchanting songs. Alex Weatherhill does his best to negotiate a five piece band, reduced from the original 36, and thanks to the small space and focus on the brass lines, the music maintains a jazzy feel and doesn’t sound empty in the venue.

A final weakness, however, is the lighting, which came down to a no-show from the designer and an enterprising student doing the whole thing on the get-in day in his place - forgivable but annoying nonetheless.

See it if you’re local or have a soft spot for the classics.

Where: Upstairs at the Gatehouse
When: Until 16 August. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £12 (All Days but Sat), £15 (Saturday), UNRESERVED SEATING
Concessions: £10/12
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10. I really should say £12 since there are no discounts, but it's value compared to top ticket price...time to pull out the bus passes and student IDs?
RZ Other Notes: Maybe State Fair will be better? It was entering rehearsals while Madam was in previews.

THOUGHTS: What’s Wrong With Angry?

2009-07-19T21:44:00.000+01:00

Sometimes a play’s background is more interesting than the actual show. In this case, What’s Wrong With Angry was a contemporary piece about the consequences of Section 28 and disparity in British age of consent law between straight and gay couples. At the time of its premiere, the tale of an out schoolboy amidst a swirl of scandal, cottaging, and violent schoolmates was controversial, shocking, and a tour de force which clearly spawned countless imitators because there’s no other way it could seem so sappy - complete with main character about to swallow a bottle of pills and then throwing it away to declare his choice for life - and cliché now.

Was it more relevant back in 1993? Almost certainly, but time and advances in civil rights, complete with David Cameron recently apologising for Section 28, have blunted the play’s edge and place it in an odd void between introspective period piece (not enough real period depth) and Grange Hill/After School Special. The sad thing is how much things haven’t changed, especially for queer youths, but this isn’t the play to send the message anymore.

So why bring it back? I have no idea, though the current production at the Kings Head is directed by its author, Patrick Wilde, and he makes a decent if not inspired go at things, with the selection of backing and transitional music being the best part. The cast are a mixed bag, though I can’t pull up names thanks to the Kings Head website not listing anybody, but focal character Steven, who is on all the posters and out and proud, is well played, as is his female best friend. Conflicted love interest John is a weak link in the cast, while a sympathetic teacher is portrayed...well, no so much portrayed as phoned in and incredibly fake.

In short, find the film (retitled Get Real) instead.

Where: Kings Head
When: Until 16 August, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £18 (reserved)/£15 (unreserved)
Concessions: £12.50
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £4 (Cost of renting the film at Blockbuster)
RZ Other Notes: None

THOUGHTS: “Forbidden Broadway”

2009-07-06T16:01:00.000+01:00

I have to confess that taking a commission to see Forbidden Broadway at the Menier was a lot like being paid to see Spring Awakening: I’d seen both in New York and knew the material going in, and it almost felt like cheating to get paid to write about it.

The good news is that I like the London cast of Forbidden Broadway far more than I did the locals in Spring Awakening. Forbidden Broadway also has a tonne of new UK specific material, some of the best recent US bits (though they cut the dialogue sequences from the Jersey Boys and Spring Awakening segments), and a few of the old classics which never fail to amuse (Ten Years More, Circle of Mice.) Unfortunately there’s plenty of the diva jokes which, honestly, are my least favourite parts but I’ve never been gaga for Liza or Sarah so while the general humour is funny - as it is to the many, many tourists who kept Forbidden Broadway open through the years - I was always ready for the next show, trend, and gimmick to be eviscerated before my eyes. The humour is generic enough for casual fans to get it but there are layers for the hardcore to peel back and it’s oh so mean but only as a lesson in tough love.

Speaking of cuts, the show moved fast - VERY fast. When I saw Roast of Utopia I counted around 20-25 sketches, and I would hazard to say there’s closer to 30 here, though the production here is also a good 30 minutes longer. And, of course, time flies when you’re laughing your head off and trying to hide your jealousy that someone else’s blog got namechecked in the first parody and yours didn’t.

Still reading this? Why? Go book tickets (just leave some cheap ones available so I can go again!)

Where: Menier Chocolate Factory
When: Tu-Sa @ 20:00, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £25 except Saturday matinees £15
Concessions: Ask directly, £34/24 show + meal deal bookable in advance
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £25. The legend lives.
RZ Other Notes: What’s Jest End again?

CATCHING UP: The doggerel days of summer....

2009-07-01T20:17:00.001+01:00

So I’ve been away for a while. How long is a while? Long enough that it’s probably driven away what few readers I previously had. The reason for this absence? Some much needed freelance work that was for an unfortunately short time plus some equally required recovery time afterwards. I did manage to sneak in a few things in the interim, so in the interest of being a right speedy American, some one or two liners follow as I look up my last month in iCal...

The King and I @ Royal Albert Hall - Nice. Not impressive or amazing, but nice. It’s not one of my favourite shows to begin with, but Maria Friedman was lovely as ever and justified the three hours.

Been So Long @ Young Vic - Felt so long, despite only being 95 minutes. Decent cast but some “they got it wrong” bits in the set, virtually no plot, and little characterisation.

The Missionary’s Position @ Hoxton Hall - Music Hall meets morality play with some bad meta-theatricality at the end.

Zanna Don’t @ Upstairs at the Gatehouse - Not an Ovation production so no need to not comment. Zanna has a lot going for it including an incredibly catchy score, but the book has some major issues and doesn’t show the truly vicious nature of American high schoolers which undermines its message.

West End Live 2009 @ Leicester Square - Biggins was less annoying than last year though I wish I had video of him making his MJ crack in retrospect. Overall some good performances and it’s a nice if not crowded and exhausting event.

The World at One - Sellebrity @ Kings Head - Three twenty minute plays on the cost and demands of celebrity. Basically a lot of people being nasty to each other. I didn’t see the version on social networking, but this was OK and decent lunchtime fare. I’d go to another one.

Mincemeat @ Cordy House - A promenade look at an infamous WW2 operation in which the British military dumped a corpse on the coast of Spain with the intent of spreading misinformation. Again some displeasure from meta-theatricality (though this may be house style looking over the Cardboard Citizens website) but overall a fascinating production with an excellent use of a warehouse space. Bring water if you go.

And now I’m all caught up. I’m attending Forbidden Broadway at the Menier later this week, but have a commission so it’ll only be brief thoughts here. More to follow...

REVIEW: “Arcadia”

2009-06-01T11:32:00.000+01:00

I have something of an odd relationship with the works of Tom Stoppard. I love reading Stoppard, and definitely belong to the camp which calls the man a genius, but at the same time I find watching his works less enjoyable, perhaps because I can read one of his plays (barring epics like The Coast of Utopia) in around an hour and a half or less but they always seem to take far, far too long to actually perform. Arcadia, considered by many to be Stoppard’s great masterpiece, falls squarely into this category, but it is also - and perhaps for the first time - quite likely that I feel this way strictly based on my seat assignment.

Yes, assignment. I should get it out of the way here that I didn’t pay for my ticket to Arcadia, and as such didn’t get to choose where I sat as tends to be part of the bargain. Anybody associated with the box office or producing the show will know where I got Upper Circle A1 from, and they will also know that the seat should be taken out of the theatre and never be sold to begin with. Why? You can’t actually see the stage. Oh sure you can see the very back of the stage in an arching sliver from about 2/3 of stage left to its corner, but virtually none of the action takes place there. Even engaging in the rather rude act of leaning with all your might provides at most half a stage worth of view. Yes, the tickets are marked restricted, and no, I didn’t pay for them, but other people seeking a bargain will only to leave in frustration.

My advice to those people? Take the benches in the back. You’ll have a clear view of everything you need, just smuggle a cushion into your bag when you go to the theatre.

But anyways. Not being able to see the show proved quite the distraction as RADA types speaking RP tend to sound the same and you get the effect of listening to an indistinct radio play from the experience. Sure the occasional moment of brilliance still smacks you with the hammer of literary light, but the rest of the play seemed a world away from me, the audience member, to the point where I debated bolting at the interval. Fortunately I didn’t bolt, as my cramped quarters did allow me one distinct advantage: being able to see where there were potentially better empty seats in the lower circle for the second half. And sure enough, despite a dirty look from an usher, I moved myself down to Dress Circle C24 and could see virtually everything except one of the entrances.

The benefit of being able to visually follow the story helped immensely,and I found the second half far more engaging, but the damage was already done: I still couldn’t actually get into the story well enough to really take it all in.

And, as I’ve written almost a page of A4, I guess I should explain what the story is: an associate of Lord Byron’s is tutor to the daughter of the house, a genius of a 16 year old who works out the dissipating nature of thermodynamic transfers far before her time. Meanwhile her tutor is subject to scandal for sleeping with a few local wives, Byron is implicated, and the whole scandal feeds into the second of Stoppard’s formulaic intertwinings (combining periods and realities is to Stoppard what the escalation of brutality is to McDonagh) about warring professors looking at the decline of enlightenment against the romantic era, tracking the grouse population, and working out Byron’s role in the scandal. It’s directed by David Leveaux, known to Americans for both his prior Stoppards as well as the 2004 revival of Fiddler on the Roof. The cast, including Stoppard’s son Ed, are fine, it’s all very RP and proper, but the acting didn’t reach the cheap seats.

A pity, really. Arcadia *is* a good play (though both acts could lose 10-15 minutes as the entire thing clocks in at 2 hr 50 including interval) but I suspect I’m in the minority in saying that I was bored by the end of each half and quite happy to get some air afterwards.

Where: Duke of York’s
When: Until 12 September, M-W, Fr/Sa @ 19:30, Th @ 19:00, W/Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £15-£49.50
Concessions: Probably.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: N/A. Can’t honestly judge.
RZ Other Notes: Is it me or is the new Ambassador website absolutely hideous for anybody trying to get, you know, useful information without having to do three times as much work as on the previous site? Heaven help those trying to book for touring productions.

REVIEW: “Thriller Live”

2009-05-14T11:40:00.002+01:00

As a child of the 80’s, the scandal surrounding Michael Jackson in the past 15 or so years is a high publicity decimation of a pop culture icon. I was never a huge fan (I can quote you the Weird Al parodies for “Bad” and “Beat it” far more easily than the original) but I don’t deny the man’s talent and like a number of the big hits.

Unfortunately, the truly big “everybody knows these songs backwards, forwards, and sideways” hits are about an hour of music. Thriller Live is two and a half hours and four of the songs everybody expects (Thriller/Bad/Billie Jean/Black or White) and wants to hear are the finale/encore. That leaves quite a bit of time for second and third tear material from the Jackson disco catalogue and the ballads nobody remembers or cares about.

Again, I’m finding myself saying “nice cast, shame about the play.” Ben Forster is simply amazing as one of the show’s many singers, and if there’s any justice in the world will be playing Galileo in WWRY. Denise Pearson is also a standout singer, as are Ricko Baird and Earl Perkins. Ashton Russell was on as young Michael when I saw the show and stood out in the opposite direction, failing to stay in key and looking as bored as I often felt. The dance ensemble were universally talented and genuinely hard workers performing the brutal choreography associated with Jackson’s videos and stage shows.

And then there’s the design. While Jonathan Park’s set is passably functional and Adrian Gwilliam’s costumes appropriately fun, Nigel Catmur’s lighting is an abomination worthy of the pits of theatrical hell. I get that no, this is not traditional theatre (well, it is in a way...) but more a concert and as such will rely on more concert styled lighting. Get it, got it, no problem with it. But it’s bad concert lighting (ya know?) with an overhead ring throwing LED everywhere but on the stage and the production relies heavily on lightboard animations (including one during “The Man in the Mirror” that takes us through MJ’s many faces before showing John Lennon, JFK, a host of other historical figures, and finally Barack Obama) which are bright, constantly moving, and in many cases look like primitive GIF files. There’s also an excessive use of oversized flashbulb (painful if you’re off to the sides and therefore find yourself angled towards where they pop) and enough driving, unrelenting fast colour changes to rival Priscilla for most painful visuals in the West End.

And before anybody asks, no, I’m not epleptic, and no, I’m not generally photosensitive. I can go clubbing, watch strobe heavy 80’s anime, and stare at monitors all day and still not suffer eyestrain or headache, but I found myself closing my eyes for minutes of respite at Thriller. If they JUST had the latter aspects of the lighting, it would have gotten a sentence here and I’d have moved on, but the sheer in your face quantity of LED bothers me not just for its physical effect, but also its artistic one: this is a concert full of hit tunes sung by talented singers with legendary choreography. So why try to distract everybody by showing all kinds of flashy crap in the background? Have some faith in your material and performers let them speak for themselves. You know, like in Shout (which I also revisited yesterday and still enjoyed.)

Where: Lyric Theatre Shaftesbury
When: Tu-Fr, Su @ 19:30, Sa @ 16:00 & 20:00, Su @ 15:30
How Much: £23.50-£54.50
Concessions: Best available for £20
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10. Add £5 for every MJ CD you have that isn’t Bad or Thriller.
RZ Other Notes: First and foremost, this was my first visit to the Lyric Shaftesbury and it’s a truly beautiful theatre, both architecturally and in its decor. Second, the balcony and upper circle were closed last night so MJ fans may wish to consider buying cheap and aiming for a bump. Third, I recommend staying for the first 15 minutes and then bolting to the bar until the second half when all of the songs that matter are played.

Revisit: "La Cage Aux Folles"

2009-05-11T10:21:00.004+01:00

(Quick post #2...on a roll.)

Once again offered tickets and once again back to the West End run of La Cage. With Graham Norton's departure, the principles of nightclub owner Georges and diva drag queen Albin are now played by Philip Quast (who played Georges at the Menier itself) and Roger Allam. Hodge is excellent in the role, warm and affectionate, torn between the love of his life and the happiness of his child. Allam is a butchy queen, looking quite masculinely built from my seat in the circle, but gets into the motions and sings better than Norton (not saying much). he's not QUITE there yet, but I suspect he'll be in fine form after a few more performances. Memory may also be playing tricks on me, but I want to say a few new visual gags were also directed in with this cast change and despite two prior visits, the production feels fresh enough to warrant revisiting.

Previous worth paying and notes stand.

REVIEW: Dimetos/Madame de Sade

2009-05-11T10:16:00.002+01:00

(A very quick one to be followed by two more very quick ones.)

“Nice cast, shame about the play.”

There isn’t much more to be said about either of the Donmar’s current productions: both of which boast the standard celebrity and established actors one would come to expect from the venue, both feature some amusing design (the red pool in Dimetos and the huge mother of pearl sitting room and gigantic frocks in Madame) but both are excruciatingly dull texts with the former boasting a nonsensical second act - even the director didn’t know what it was about - and the latter making the man who gave us some of the most infamous S&M pornography ever made tame and quite matter of fact.

I guess go if you want to see some people from the telly doing high-brow theatre (the snooty French accent doesn't come through online on that), but otherwise wait for the season to progress...

REVIEW: “Shout!”

2009-05-02T17:06:00.002+01:00

I felt a bit of trepidation as I headed to the Arts Theatre (of death!) before seeing Shout! last night. Here we had another jukebox musical, and one with less than impressive word of mouth as well. Things weren’t improved when I snuck a glance at a neighbour’s programme and saw it opening with the same Petula Clark song as that damn bus (the song being “Downtown” for those keeping track.)

Fortunately it was all uphill from there. Not far uphill, but up enough that I was happy enough to sit back and enjoy the ride. I suspect this is because of adjusting expectations: the descriptions of Shout revolve largely around the flimsiness of its unattributed book. No, the book’s not as clever as, say, Return to the Forbidden Planet, but it does the minimum of creating excuses or introducing songs and doing so without ever saying “Let’s have a song!” And, to be honest, given the amount of time the book requires out of the runtime, I’m content to write it off and reconsider Shout as a revue a la Tomfoolery rather than as a proper book musical.

But nobody knows what a revue *is* these days, let alone sees them, so it’s easy to understand why everything gets promoted as an event or a musical when the truth is that revue may be a more appropriate term (even if this satirises the 60’s instead of today, but that in itself reflects our current changes in attitude.)

Meanwhile, it would be useful to talk about the show itself.

*ahem*

The year is 1960. Georgina (Tiffany Graves) is a modern young woman who heads down to London in search of love and the high life. On the train she meets Ruby (Marissa Dunlop), an actress in training, and shy wallflower Betty (normally played by ex-Wickeder Shona White but understudied by Francesca Newitt when I went). The trio end up renting a flat in Peckham above Best Cuts, a hair salon owned by Georgina’s aunt Yvonne (Su Pollard). The four women become fast friends and we spend the next decade as they marry, divorce, and belt through the tunes of the time as bridged by Tony T (John Jack), editor of Shout Magazine.

As I stated before, the book is largely irrelevant, though it has some laughs in the Carry On vein, and Jack’s editor speaks Public School English with the condescending tone of early television adverts which lends both a tongue in cheek to the proceedings as well as a reminder of how far we’ve come. The main thrust of the show is a decade of classic pop from Petula to Dusty, bubblegum to psychedelia, and the four main ladies (in addition to Jessica Kirton as a dialogue-free shop assistant/trophy girl) do an excellent job of belting to the rafters and reminding us all that the 60’s really were a golden age of music. Yes, that includes Su Pollard.

Also praise-worthy are Morgan Large’s designs, both simple and evocative of pop art, bright clean colours, and the rise in trippy patterns while functional and (short of some overdone strobing by colour-smart lighting designer Ben Cracknell) tasteful. Come to think of it, “tasteful” is probably the best way to describe the whole affair though “obvious cash-in” comes second.

I digress.

Another groovy point was Large’s costume designs for the girls, but I was rather confused by the costumes for Tony T: much of Shout’s promotion on tour (and the CD cover) refer to it as a mod musical, but the lack of a sharp suit and skinny tie, anorak, or other iconic mod images stood out though they could be a logistical necessity for some extremely rapid costume changes.

Anyways, to sum it up: your enjoyment of Shout will be directly proportional to how much you like 60’s pop music and whether or not you can get past the fluffy book in lieu of something more intellectual.

Where: Arts Theatre
When: Until 28 June, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 15:00, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £20-£42.50
Concessions: £25 excluding Fri/Sat nights, book one hour before the show
-------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £20. Maybe a few more if you’re a big Su Pollard fan.
RZ Other Notes: I guess it just shows that whoever composed most of Petula Clark’s music is all too happy to let the tracks out as long as they get their royalty cheque. Too bad they wanted an impractical amount for an official release of the brilliant short film “Animato” by creator Mike Jittlov. Jittlov created the film in 1969 and it’s a breathtaking work of stop motion and hand worked animation but the music was never cleared so you’ll have to do some digging to find a copy of the piece. A reworked version with new music was included in Jittlov’s feature film The Wizard of Speed and Time.

REVIEW: “Rookery Nook”

2009-04-27T13:06:00.000+01:00

I like farce. When done well it provides an entertaining night out with lots of laughs and a canny look at the peculiarities of social norms and morals. It’s a comforting form of entertainment where the entire piece is dictated by rules and form (like panto) and the creativity comes in exploiting these and finding something new to say within.

Unfortunately, it’s particularly easy to screw this up. All it takes is a slip in the timing, an inferior round of wordplay, or a bad mood in the audience to ruin everything.

Rookery Nook, now playing at the Chocolate Factory, is closer to the latter than the former. Looking at the sexual mores of the educated class, the play revolves around a trio of chaps trying to avoid the image of impropriety when a girl runs away from home in the heat of an argument. Of course, the girl’s reputation is already in tatters as one of the fellows’ wives took it upon herself to spread false rumours about her relation to her foreign stepfather.

Eagle eyed readers will notice that there is no actual misconduct here (though one of the men, who resembles Cary Elwes is clearly a rogue on his best behaviour). The fun in farce comes from the cover-up: keeping the three stewardesses apart in Boeing-Boeing, making sure the play runs in Noises Off, but so much of the actual “keep away” is absent here: there are only brief moments of threat at the end of the first act and the start and of course end of the second. Secondary characters take much of the time (a crusty admiral in the second act, a second girl added to make things worse in the third) and it keeps the pressure and the tension from achieving a properly tightened torque.

That’s not to say that everything about the show is awful: I quite liked the cast, and the costumes will please anybody who reads The Chap. There was some slightly clever lighting, and the play almost managed to keep my attention focused enough to ignore how uncomfortable the benches were (yes, my arse was numb at the interval. Fortunately there was spare room and I was able to shift around a bit during the second and third acts as revenge for the loudly crinkling people behind me.)

Is it amusing throughout? I guess. I was never bored, but the first act was distinctly underwhelming and the play only reaches top gear in two or three brief moments despite the dialogue flying past. The Whingers attribute this to the set being too big and taking energy from the jokes, and I’m likely to agree: despite being the Menier being a small venue, farce needs to be in cramped or expanded settings so that action can be concentrated (or distracted from). I think the ultimate weakness, however, lies with the script by Ben Travers: It’s a bit too by-the-book and lacks the oomph needed to really reel in the laughs.

But the Menier’s next show is Forbidden Broadway and all is therefore forgiven.

Where: Menier Chocolate Factory
When: Until 20 June. Tu-Sa @ 20:00, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £25/£34 (the latter being a meal deal with the venue’s restaurant.)
Concessions: £20
------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10. Safe, take your mum theatre with nice costumes.
RZ Other Notes: The assigned seating policy remains! I’ve never been on the black benches, but the red ones are desperately in need of some padding. Hopefully the money coming in from La Cage can help fund some decent seats!

REVISIT: "Sunset Blvd."

2009-04-22T10:40:00.003+01:00

I don't really have much to add after December's review. I honestly wasn't even planning to go again, but given the opportunity for free tickets and a chance to meet up with a friend before he left for an extended holiday did the job of getting me out of the house.

So what's there to say? Well, I saw the show from the stalls this time, and I don't think it really helped. Normally I prefer to either sit in the mid-stalls or front of the first circle, but I think the latter is very much the place to sit here: being able to literally look down at rather contemptible people is more satisfying than tilting your head upwards, especially with the poor rake in the stalls at the Comedy. Despite being off to the sides, our views (minus heads in front) were unencumbered, so props to those who actually check their sightlines.

As far as the cast go, something seemed to be on autopilot, though whether it was the cast or myself is hard to tell, though my companion suggested it was the former. Kathryn Evans provides the light which creates the shadows of this production and I find that Ben Goddard has calmed down enough to remain unlikeable but not in-yer-face.

Though it was only a Monday night, the stalls had notable pockets of emptiness, and I couldn't say whether the upper circle was open or not (the Dress was.) Word is that the production is breaking even but not selling gangbusters, so book now before the tourists arrive and the end-of-summer closing shortly follows. Worth Paying and notes are the same as before - £25 is about right.

No Updates and Cast Recordings...

2009-04-20T10:25:00.004+01:00

Yeah. It's been a while since I've gone to the theatre.

Well, that's not entirely true. I saw a friend's cabaret on Easter Sunday (shockingly bad) and caught Calendar Girls (amusingly mediocre) for a commission, but no independent theatre-going to speak of.

I have, however, gotten ahold of the cast recording for next to normal, which just opened on Broadway. I adore the score for this show, and have since receiving a *cough* of the 2005 Festival production, back when it was still called Feeling Electric. So I should love the cast recording right?

Yeah, I do. But that doesn't mean I don't have a lot of quibbles with it. Some of the cuts are awkward because the snipped dialogue covers transitional underscoring, breaking up what should be two flowing pieces. The mixing is also off - the guitars, especially the electric guitars, are too low, and the harmonies are overly slick. The whole thing reminds me of the Broadway cast recording for RENT in a way - I find that recording to be far too sterile and while it does a decent job of presenting the score, it's just not right. (For the record, I prefer the German cast recording, iffy translation aside, which uses the original arrangements but was recorded live. The mix is slightly edgier and there's more energy than the rushed New York edition.)

The N2N CD suffers in the same way. Part of a soundboard was leaked from last year's off-Broadway production, and on the tracks where comparison is possible, the soundboard blows away the CD: there's the right amount of roughness, the arrangements shine, and the cast are surfing on the waves of the band and not floating ten feet above. But clearly someone was happy with it because it got released. And, to be honest, I'm listening to it all the time. There are a tonne of brilliant tracks here, and even with the flaws it's an amazing piece.

But I still prefer the Festival Version of "A Light in the Dark."

The album also brings up a good question: what is the point of cast recordings? The inclusion (and exclusion) of dialogue on the N2N disc really makes me wonder. The cast album for Hedwig plays like a rock CD, whereas Avenue Q's includes just enough to provide context to the music. RENT cut a couple of small dialogue pieces, mostly to ensure that the first act fit onto a 74 minute disc (80 minute discs existed then but were uncommon) and comes off more as an archive. Most classic cast recordings are both preservational (key songs) and promotional (sell the big song.) I'm more tempted to put N2N into the latter - a (relatively) cheap way to try the music before committing to expensive show tickets. Of course, given that the physical CD is pushing $25 depending on where you buy it, only the iTunes release really counts in that sense. I'd forgive so much more to have the full dialogue on "Just Another Day" and "Catch Me I'm Falling."

But it's not there. Alas. Fortunately we live in enterprising times and somebody can/will/has supply/ied.

THOUGHTS: Tabú by NoFit State Circus

2009-04-06T18:12:00.001+01:00

I’m not a big fan of the circus. I guess it’s partly because I’m a snob, and partly because Dr Who taught me that clowns are creepy. The bizarre pride of family tradition and inevitable inbreeding (“8th generation circus family” “9th generation circus family” and “living on the road and only knowing circus people” combine in my head in unpleasant ways) doesn’t really help.

But hey, I was offered free tickets to Tabú, and it was an excuse to see something at the Roundhouse, which I walk past somewhat frequently and have never actually visited properly, so why not?

Tabú is promoted as circus meets burlesque and punk, and it’s not an entirely inaccurate description. Following the trends of new circus, there aren’t animals or greasepaint laden clowns (decidedly less creepy), but the show maintains a wonderful atmosphere, feeling appropriately grimy, dirty, like a slightly guilty pleasure to be attending this in public. The female costumes are what largely inspire the burlesque tag, lots of pre-war muslin and low cut high-skirted dresses (though no actually nudity and only minor stripping, usually to lose a large skirt on a trapeze).

As far as punk, that brings me to my favourite part of the evening, which is the music. While not punk as traditionally defined, the music is an odd blend of outsider (think Jandek lyrics meeting the Vaselines’ deranged tunefulness) mixed with new swing (Squirrel Nut Zippers), a splash of continental classic (Brel/Piaf) and a dusting of new wave. It’s all performed live, and I wish I’d checked the merchandise table for a CD - there really should be one.

The actual circus-ing is pretty traditional, spruced up by a steel towered behemoth out of a dystopian six year old’s Meccano set full of winches and human counterweights. There’s some avant garde use of video, and an entertaining scene done on perpendicular trampolines, one doubling as a projection screen. A few scenes, such as the opening use of silhouettes and the finale, are beautifully creative. Others are more standard fare, but it’s all supposed to come together in a look at the darker side of human desire. I didn’t always see it, and found the second half more cohesive, but it’s there for the people who want it (and can be ignored for those who just want a spectacle.)

The production is also advertised as promenade, which is misleading: the action is largely central and elevated, but the entire space is standing room and attendees are encouraged (and sometimes forced for safety reasons) to move around. My companion and I both moved around a fair bit, largely to avoid crowding and to take advantage of shifting our viewing angle, and found it a rewarding experience: sometimes moving towards the back or over to a side paid off big time, other times it was a decent but not in your face view. Most of the audience, however, stayed largely put. Your ticket, your call.

In short? It didn’t convert me to circus, but it convinced me that I should see NoFit again if they’re in town, and I think the production hit far more than it missed. Recommended.

Where: Roundhouse Theatre
When: Until 19 April, M-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 14:00
How Much: £20. You will be standing/walking for 2 hours.
Concessions: £18, Under 16’s £12.50
----------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £20. Worth it for the music alone.
RZ Other Notes: If booking online, do your best to book directly through the theatre as your booking fee goes straight to the Roundhouse’s youth theatre charity.

REVIEW: Blok Busta

2009-04-03T11:09:00.002+01:00

I don’t even know where to start with this one. I guess the easy, lazy, and potentially humorous way to go is with another good/bad list...

(EDIT: On revision while dropping in links and formatting I realised I should briefly cover the plot. In Glamsville it's illegal to listen to disco, but the Blok Busta is going around killing girls with long black hair by playing disco to them. His suspicions fall on a group of teachers and students at Glamsville High after they bomb the school and start a nightclub. Some infighting occurs, another girl dies, a male fantasy lesbian cop hits on good girl gone bad Virginia Plain, and the mystery is solved at the end.)

GOOD:

-The score (too many contributors to list) is mostly original. There’s a few covers in there (including “Sugar Baby Love” by the Rubettes - guaranteed to throw off anime fans everywhere) but there’s a LOT of new tunes here.

-A lot of the songs (bottom of the page) are catchy and have lyrics between competent and clever. I wouldn’t mind having a cast recording on my iPod, even though I’d be hard pressed to justify paying for it. There’s the occasional clunker but for the most part the music is decent.

-The lighting is concert appropriate though a bit excessive during the encore.

-The cast do wonders for the material. For some reason the creative team didn’t feel it was worth listing or mentioning the cast members on the website so I can’t reference them, but the fellow playing Aladdin Payne (yes they all have names this lame) and the actress who took the triple role of the initial victim (forgot the name), Delilah, and Jenny Jenn also deserves credit for bringing some life to the production.

-As actor/musicians, the cast do a great job often doubling on instruments.

-Disco music is a lethal weapon. I approve.

BAD:

-It’s not glam. I know that Blok Busta *advertises* itself as a glam musical, and it does cover some songs from the glam movement and has some glam-ish costumes (though they’re more Jem than glam) but some of the key glam tropes are missing.

-Case in point? The lack of androgyny. Yes the guys have make-up and sparkly costumes and platform boots, but where’re the waifs, the torch songs, and the posing? The characters move like stereotypes and don’t feel inhabited.

-Likewise the movement is off in performance. A big part of Glam was toning down the phallic “Man plays big guitar at crotch level” aspect of Rock, but it was here in abundance. The girls rocked out as well, so they reclaim some points there, but again, the aesthetic was close but not right. Go read some Auslander, see a proper stage production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and try again.

-The book. There’s (barely) a plot, but it’s thin and gleefully discarded for the next tune (hint to Mike Bennett who wrote the show: *NEVER* say something like “This makes me sad. Let’s have a song!” Songs in musicals should be extensions of the characters and not forced. Priscilla makes the same mistake.)

-More on the book. I was chatting to another audience member at the interval and they made the comparison to a comic book. Given that I’ve been on a reading bender lately including as much books of Top 10, The Authority, and Transmetropolitan as I can get ahold of in addition to revisiting Watchmen, any self-respecting comic book author would be insulted by being compared to Blok Busta. I’d compare it more to Vampires Rock, and found that by shifting my expectations from “musical” to “concert with plot-like banter” the second act was more enjoyable.

-Which brings me to the pacing. I felt every minute of the two hours here.

-The spoiler moment with “I Will Survive.” I want to go on Room 101 just to lock that song away forever.

OVERALL

Mike Bennett (author and no relation to the brilliant Michael Bennett) has written good material in the past. I know people who’ve worked with him on other projects and they had nothing but good things to say about them, so it seems like Blok Busta is simply misconceived and an unfortunate mis-step in a long, industrious, and largely well received career. Here’s hoping to a return to form and better things in the future.

Where: New Players Theatre
When: Until 18 April, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: £20. Try and get row J or forward.
Concessions: £15.
-------------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: A very generous £10. Conveniently you can get tickets for this on lastminute. It’s worth going if you ignore everything BUT the music.
RZ Other Notes: For such a small venue the New Players has a number of seats which feel remarkably distant.

NOTES: “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert”

2009-03-30T16:18:00.003+01:00

So a bit of explanation is in order here, and it’s an explanation in the form of a confession. I reviewed Priscilla for a magazine (not going to say which one) and when I write for money I find myself keeping the publication’s target audience in mind.

The target audience for the magazine will love Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Most people will love Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Even the West End Whingers loved Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

I was remarkably apathetic and in some cases hostile in my personal thoughts before seeing Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. I was unimpressed at the press launch, and the level of hype on the internets didn’t do much to change this. Then there was the announcement of £90 premium tickets. WTF London? I keep defending the British as being smarter than us Yanks and you have to do stupid crap like follow this bullshit policy from Broadway? You’re almost as bad as they are in Germany, charging €105 for a show on Saturday nights...

*ahem* But I digress.

I was not blown away by Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. I thought it was merely OK, I smiled a fair bit and there were some chuckle worthy lines but landed few big laughs. This isn’t to say there aren’t some good things about it. For example:

-The costumes. OMFG the costumes are amazing and, to be blunt, the entire selling point of the show.

-Jason Donovan. Yeah I’ve got the CD of him in Joseph. And he’s quite likeable here. Tony Sheldon was also great and the ensemble work their arses off in a never-ending series of costume changes.

-Kanako Nakano. Steals the show in what is the trashiest scene in a show of almost John Waters proportions.

-The music. You certainly leave the theatre humming the tunes - provided you know them all in advance. To be fair, the choice of songs wasn’t as bad as I’d been led to believe: I loathe disco but there were a few good 60’s and 80’s tracks as well.

Then there’s everything else:

-The music. Seriously? Too much Kylie. This may be me, as the Aussie Madonna never really took off in the US and even the real thing hasn’t had a truly great single since “Take a Bow.” The overuse of “I Will Survive” also hurts, and then there’s an individual fear, the fact that they use Harold Faltemeyer’s “Hot Stuff.” Why do I fear that when the song’s half decent? Because Faltemeyer himself cribbed it into his own disastrous piece of shit musical Wake Up back in 2002. But more on that later.

-The sound mixing is awful. It’s a good thing people are expected to know the songs going in because everybody is either over-mic’ed to distortion or gets drowned out by the orchestra. Forget about understanding ensemble numbers.

-The book. Tick is the only character who really grows (besides Bob who’s only in the second act and seems more resigned than proactive.) Bernadette has already matured and settles in more than grows. Adam/Felicia is cocky, arrogant, and annoying at the start and manages to do...no growing whatsoever. This leads me to...

-Oliver Thornton. I have no idea what casting directors see in this man, because he is the most obnoxious thing I’ve ever witnessed on a West End stage. At first I wrote off his overacting and misuse of vibrato on pop to bad direction in that thing, but all my fears and dislikes were only confirmed here. I’m sure he’s a lovely bloke in person, and he worked on a show with a friend of mine who back up such claims, but I never want to see him in a show again.

-The lighting. To spoil here, Priscilla itself is covered in LED, and spends much of the show glowing hot pink. Hot pink and hot orange are, in fact, the default light setting for quite a bit of the show and I literally felt my eyes burning by the end - and the feeling remained the next morning. I guess it symbolises the desert because nothing else really did? The last show I saw with such a brutal assault on the eyes was also Faltemeyer’s Wake Up. See the connection? It’s a bad one.

-The sight lines are a fucking disgrace. There is no nice way to put this, because it affects so many of the seats. Theatremonkey’s chart is a good starting point, but many of the tickets that are tagged as restricted are still being charged at almost £60. The sides at the Palace have always been bad, but the real problem is the overhangs: a great deal of action takes place on top of the titular bus and if you’re in a vertically challenged position (say, behind Row K in the stalls or the rear half of either circle) you miss a number of the big moments. TV screens are available on both sides of the rear stalls to watch that segment from, but stealing a glance (the glow was distracting me in my just-behind-the-premium seat) the image suffered from lighting washout and was basically a series of glowing blobs. Get an HD camera and set the bloody thing properly.

So to be down with the current speak, the tl;dr is: Priscilla is critic-proof and the sort of show to see after a few rounds at the pub, with a group, and can be enjoyable if you turn your brain off for three hours. It didn't blow me away (I still say We Will Rock You is the best of the big jukebox shows) but it'll do just that to a lot of people. Just make sure to wear sunglasses.

Where: Palace Theatre
When: M-Sa @ 19:30, Th (Post 4 May)/Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £20.25-£93.25 including Premiums, varies by day.
Concessions: None at the moment?
-----------------
RZ Unofficial "Worth Paying": £30
RZ Other Notes: Rumour on the interwebs is that the balcony is closed off early in the week. Consider booking there and hope for getting bumped.

CATCHING UP: Spring Awakening (v2: Novello Boogaloo)

2009-03-27T18:06:00.002Z

(Last week was another no theatre week, but this week I wound up at three shows. One, Cooking with Elvis, won't be getting covered here due to personal familiarity with the producers, but I'd recommend it regardless. It's a bizarre play but an interesting one. The other show that I'll cover here in some detail is Priscilla which I reviewed for a magazine but...well...you'll see.)

So in exchange for sitting in the onstage seats last Friday while the cast ran most of the second act’s technical rehearsal I got free tickets to see the transfer of Spring Awakening at the Novello. This marks my third time seeing the London cast, so I’ll keep this brief because the core elements have already been discussed at length.

-The set is narrower at the Novello than at the Lyric, and the band are now partly hidden behind the onstage seats.

-The acoustics are bassier now, and have a good boom to them.

-Did you know that instead of regular stage numbering they use the show’s German title (Frühlingserwachen) to mark places?

-Sight lines are excellent, even from the rear stalls though I’d still avoid seats on the far sides.

-The night I went was filled with tech issues including a very loud and unhappy machine during the hayloft scene and an unscheduled bang in the graveyard.

-Despite this the cast pushed through, the one true sign of professionalism that night.

-Why’s that? Because except for the adults (who are constantly excellent), the acting quality has plummeted lately. While I’ll cut the cast some slack for being in a new venue and getting their changed blocking down, the book scenes were blown through, barely acted, and shrugged off. Likewise, a certain Welsh leading pair’s accents kept slipping.

-The sad thing is that Michael Mayer had flown up from getting the Vienna production through previews to supervise the transfer’s tech.

In short? Maybe go again in a month or two when things have settled down or aim for understudy days. This just nailed the burnout coffin into my Spring Awakening coffin, though, and short of going specifically with friends I believe I’ll be away from the Novello for a while.

NOTES: The Back Room

2009-03-16T11:33:00.002Z

I honestly don't want to give Adrian Pagan's new play The Back Room much exposure (no pun intended), but at the same time, it's worth posting a warning: Mr. Pagan has managed to make the lives of seedy, backstabbing rentboys boring. Sure there's plenty of skin to look at, but none of it holds an interesting or particularly deep character: you've got the gay for pay ex-squaddie, the pair of Britney Queens, the barking Scot, the preppie with a secret, and the semi-intelligent romantic interest. The dialogue is clunky, big plot twisting secret unsurprising and uninteresting, and the whole thing simply falls flat. Nice use of the stage's outside window, though.

Where: The Cock Tavern, Kilburn
When: Until 11 April, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 17:00
How Much: £12 general admission
Concessions: £10
--------------------
RZ Unofficial "Worth Paying": £1. This doesn't deserve the infamy of a worthless.
RZ Other Notes: None.

REVIEW: The 1959 Broadway Songbook

2009-03-13T15:43:00.002Z

When I first heard that The 1959 Broadway Songbook was being performed at a pizza restaurant, I immediately found myself questioning who would actually be performing that evening: The Rockafire Explosion? But no, my oblivious foreign self was subsequently educated that Pizza on the Park is, in fact, a respectable venue for jazz, cabaret, and other forms of evening entertainment like the hotel venues of old.

The 1959 Broadway Songbook is a cabaret, comprised of four performers (Nathan Martin on piano, West End standards Anna Bergman and Susannah Fellows, and American Jeff Harnar who compiled the piece). Over roughly 100 minutes, they attempt to encompass what was undoubtedly a high point in the golden age of Broadway, a year where over twenty new musicals (including The Music Man, Gypsy, West Side Story, and Flower Drum Song) by virtually all of the greats opened. The upside is that the show flows quickly, the performers are good, and the venue is surprisingly nice.

The downside is that there are SO many songs to clear and SO many major titles that virtually none of them are performed in their entirety: we hear a verse here, a chorus there, and even some of the biggest songs such as "Rose’s Turn" are reduced to a mere fragment in the interest of time. As such, it’s impossible to ever make a true connection with any of the material or performers, and it’s so frantic that it’s hard to classify as a nice night out. Amusing, but not nice.

Where: Pizza on the Park
When: Until 13 April, Sundays @15:00 & 19:00, Mondays @ 19:45
How Much: £25
Concessions: None
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10......
RZ Other Notes: ....but this being in a restaurant you will undoubtedly end up spending extra and feel extremely foolish if you don’t order something beforehand. Doors open 90 minutes before the show, so you can get your dinner (think Pizza Express or slightly better quality) and be on your coffee or wine by the time the show actually starts.

SITE: Why no updates?

2009-03-11T16:18:00.002Z

Loyal(?) readers may have noticed the lack of updates lately. It's not that I've been putting off reviews (just one, the 1959 Broadway Songbook concert, which I saw Monday...), but I actually had a week - perhaps my first since moving to London - when I didn't go to the theatre.

That's right. A full week where I stayed home every night. No shows, just me, the DVD player, and far, FAR too many hours on City of Heroes (my primary character is up to level 38 now!) So why didn't I go to the theatre?

Well, for one thing, money's tight. While I get some occasional writing work, job hunting is hard work, demotivating, demoralising, and a near exercise in futility these days. So the lack of funds rules out shows that I have to pay for. Of the shows I don't have to pay for (be they through officially reviewing, seat-filling, etc.), nothing really clicked last week. Sometimes it's a case of "I don't feel like traveling across the city to see this even if it sounds interesting" and sometimes it's "I'm sick of seeing disappointing productions there and the seats are uncomfortable as well."

The good news is that things are looking up: three shows this week (a touring dance show which I'm reviewing elsewhere tonight, and another play tomorrow night) and more to come. I, sadly, will NOT be blogging Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, as I'm getting paid to write about it (yay!) and having never seen the film am trying my best to go in blind. In the interim there will likely be other things to see.

And, to be honest, I did go and see something last week: the film adaptation of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons's legendary graphic novel Watchmen. And to give you the short opinion? This film fucking rocks. It was everything I hoped for (no short order!) and more. The characters were appropriately psychotic, the sex and violence at adult levels (it's rated 18 for very good reasons), and the new ending works beautifully. I'm not sure how much people who haven't read the book will appreciate it, but for people who HAVE read it, your opinion of the book will likely be the same as your subsequent opinion of the film. Just don't go in expecting fights and explosions every 20 seconds. This is an intellectual, character driven film that has occasional bursts of graphic sex and violence, not the other way around.

And on that note, I'm off to have a bowl of cereal before trekking out to Hammersmith to watch Bollywood-style dancers.

CATCHING UP: “The Hound of the Baskervilles”/”Hate Mail”

2009-03-02T11:34:00.001Z

Frequent readers will be unsurprised by the revelation that I’m quite fond of the pub theatre. These spaces are often quirky, intimate, and friendly, and it’s almost always nice to pay one a visit.

Pentameters, in Hampstead, have been putting on plays since the late 1960’s, and have occupied the same space since the 1970’s. And the space is absolutely wonderful: funky architecture, chairs with mismatched cushions, hand drawn fliers and art, the place exudes a DIY charm that makes me wonder why I’ve never been before, but surely makes me want to come back. *ahem* But on to the play: one of many adaptations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s legendary The Hound of the Baskervilles.

Hound begins not immediately as the book does, but rather with the book’s place in the Holmesian canon, pointing out that Holmes is recently deceased after his battle with Moriarty in Switzerland and briefly covering how the great detective met with our narrator, Dr. Watson. From there the script is rather straightforward as one would expect, hitting the high points in a brief 90 minutes plus interval.

Despite it being years since I’ve read the book and forgetting many of the details I was able to follow the play easily. The acting was generally solid, and the staging decent if not quite as tight as it should be: scene changes involve the actors playing the Barrymores (Sir Henry Baskerville’s staff) removing a tarp from a set of furniture, meticulously folding it, and then setting the furniture into place. The problem comes from Watson, often standing on the other side of the stage, waiting to begin his transitional narration until the folding patterns are completed, which looks rather silly to the audience.

Otherwise? It was nice - the sort of thing which you can precede or follow up with a cup of tea and the newspaper.

Hate Mail at Above the Stag, on the other hand, isn’t nice - as the title implies. Nor is something behind the scenes either, as the play was shut down and recast, reopening later this week.

The play itself is an epistolary, a form I’ve learned to loathe after seeing Crocodile of my Heart, a collection of letters between Chekhov and his lover at the Akadamietheater in Vienna. In expository theatre two (or more) people sit down and read (usually letters) at each other for the duration of the play. There is little blocking and virtually no direct interaction between the characters, rather some bemused looks from one or the other while their words are being read. In short, it’s a very dull and lazy form of theatre and one I wouldn’t ever spend money seeing. Fortunately, my tickets were free.

It’s fortunate as well that Hate Mail, which tracks the interactions between the children of two adult friends through to adulthood has a half-decent script with some funny ha-ha moments, but nothing that’s funny ho-ho or uproarious. It manages to passingly keep the attention but not command it, and warrants little else. I’d talk about the cast, Sarah Whitlock and Hugh Futcher, but both were fired from the production (perhaps because neither could pull off a convincing American accent or read without mangling their lines the night I went.) The two have been replaced by Bryan Hands as snot and mud loving boy Dan and London drag standard Bette Rinse as the wealthy gone bust Penelope. I’ve no plans to revisit the show, so here’s hoping they outdo their predecessors.

REVIEW: "Toyer"

2009-02-22T20:14:00.000Z

Back in July, the Arts Theatre (of death!) was all but doomed to permanent closure: a costly and extensive string of flops, combined with urban redevelopment plans, meant the end of a long running and historic theatre. Fortunately the venue has been saved by new owners management, and with a renovated front of house (it’s nice and airy but has fewer places to sit), but what of the debut play itself?

Toyer, adapted by Gardner McKay from his original novel and directed by William Schoular, is a standard two-hander suspense thriller a la The Woman in Black or Dark Yellow. Maude, a psychiatrist, is deeply unnerved as she gets home after a long day of work: her job involves looking after the victims of the Toyer, a serial assaulter who drugs and lobotomises his female victims. She’s been the target of voyeurs and stalkers before, and combined with the current madman on the loose is on the edge, medicating herself through alcohol. After another frustrating day at work, she arrives home only to be interrupted by the slightly disturbing neighbour who offered to fix her car...

I’d go further into the story, but anything else from here would be a massive spoiler. I will, however, attempt to make a few spoiler-free general observations. First, there is a stage direction which gives up the game pretty early on. After the event in question occurs, I kept wondering if it would be undone or not, but as the play approached the end it became clear that my early hunch was right. Bad director. Bad.

Second, a major plot twist is undone if anybody checks their watches during the brief 80 minute runtime. As the seats at the Arts aren’t the most comfortable - they were NOT part of the renovations - I did twice. After that point it was waiting for each of the shoes to drop, as fans of the genre will be able to predict the remainder. Not literally, though plenty of other articles of clothing did. Stage nudity is always a plus.

Despite these issues (the first can be fixed, the second not so much), there are some genuinely frightening and suspenseful moments in the show. Alice Krige is very late 80’s cliche as Maude in a way which makes her one of those vulnerable ice queen types. Her acting’s not particularly deep, but it’s effective and when given the chance to monologue she shines. Al Weaver, on the other hand, is genuinely creepy. I can honestly say that I have no idea how either of them manage to perform this piece eight times a week, as my brain would be thoroughly and totally fucked by the end of each performance.

In short, it’s a good but not great return for the Arts, and London audiences dig this kind of play so we may actually see something at this great space actually finish a run that’s longer than a week. Or at least we can hope.

Where: Arts Theatre
When: Until 11 April. M-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 15:00
How Much: £22.50-£29.50
Concessions: £20 M-Th only. All seats £15 until 24 Feb.
-----------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £15. It’s so short that a higher ticket price would feel like a rip-off.
RZ Other Notes: I found myself wondering how the furniture manages to stay in place on the hellishly raked stage, but otherwise liked the set quite a bit.

REVIEW: Saturday Night

2009-02-14T00:17:00.003Z

Back in the golden age of Broadway, there was a subset of musicals known as “tired businessman” shows. These were typically mediocre affairs that were decent in terms of quality, mildly entertaining, and inoffensive (Sweet Charity is a prime example, though Bob Fosse’s choreography and Gwen Verdon’s performance lent it extra weight.) Sondheim’s “lost” Saturday Night is a tired businessman show through and through, being unperformed until the 1990’s (despite being written in the 50’s but unproduced due to a funding crisis) and currently revived in a cleverly(?) timed production at the Jermyn Street Theatre.

Keeping the plot details short and spoiler free, Saturday Night focuses on a group of friends in late 1920’s Brooklyn who have two things on their mind: pulling girls and making some fast cash in the stock market. Led by wannabe playboy Gene, the group try to score with buddy girl Celeste’s lady friends and pool together on a tip that Gene received. This being a strictly by the book show complete with a checklist of clichés, I’ll leave it to you to guess what happens. Chances are you’ll be mostly right.

It’s sad that the show itself is so unimpressive, Sondheim or not, because the production tries so hard to outdo it. Engaging the increasingly common actor-musician concept (the male ensemble only - no female musicians here), director Tom Littler makes the best use possible out of the Jermyn Street’s tiny stage, and Tom Attwood’s arrangements are well played and never feel hollow or reduced. The cast, including reality show contestant Helena Blackman, vary between quite good and decent, though the accents were straight out of a gangster film and had their occasional lapses. The cast try desperately to land their jokes (they frequently succeed) but I never connected to David Ricardo-Pearce as Gene, and while the antics of the supporting cast are amusing, they wear thin.

Indeed, my biggest issue with Saturday Night was that even though I entered the theatre on Thursday night, it felt like I didn’t get to leave until Saturday in spite of a svelte 2:10 runtime. While I like old-fashioned musicals and understand that they run at a slower pace, Saturday was content to plod rather than keep marching along. Those who bemoan the loud music and hectic nature of more contemporary shows, however, may find themselves taken in by the show’s charms. I, however, will be spending my Saturday night at Avenue Q.

Where: Jermyn Street Theatre
When: Until 14 March, Tu-Sa @ 19:00, Sa-Su @ 15:00
How Much: £18
Concessions: £15
-----------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £9. Half price for “okay but not amazing.”
RZ Other Notes: (In?)conveniently enough, I saw the Menier’s A Little Night Music the night before. I didn’t fall in love with it either, but that’s another review...

Also, I've been asked to point out that due to scheduling issues on my end, I went New York style and attended the final preview instead of the press night.

NOTES: “Maria Friedman sings the British Songbook”

2009-02-09T11:01:00.000Z

Maria Friedman loves songs. And finding new songs, and new things to bring out in songs. And she loves singing them and the audience loves watching her sing them because there’s so much warmth and heart behind them that one can’t help themselves but be drawn in.

And so went another lovely evening with this lovely singer who knows not to take herself *too* seriously (“I’ll get all of the lyrics I flubbed right tomorrow.”) And if she did flub a few lyrics or wasn’t always in the best of voice? So what. Every time I see Maria Friedman I can’t help but fall completely in love with her performance, and I’m thrilled that she’s finding success in her concerts. Add to this an almost full set of new material for Ms. F. and a magical evening was all but guaranteed from the start. Absolutely wonderful.

The next person to do the “British Songbook” series, though? Scream-tweenie favourite Kerry Ellis. I think I’ll be staying home for that one, though.

CATCHING UP: Bad blogger. Bad.

2009-02-05T16:06:00.002Z

I'd like to think there's a reason I haven't blogged the last three things I've seen other than laziness. Well, four actually. But even so...

RAM Showcase Concert - students, friend had a friend in, and it was long. Very long. As in it started at lunchtime and let out for dinner.

Casanova @ Kings Head - I hadn't planned on going to the aforementioned concert, and didn't know about it until about 90 minutes before it started. As such I hadn't done silly things like eat, grab water to take, etc. and the result was that I left quite tired and dehydrated with a killer low water/sugar headache. Needless to say that despite wolfing down a fast dinner in between events, I was in a far from useful state of mind and body as was my companion who hadn't slept the night before. The result? The first act felt like 120 minutes instead of 75 and we bolted rather than risk passing out. Were I alone I'd have likely toughed it out, but it's not fair to review a show in that condition, especially after just the first act. I'm going to try and make it back, but the next two weeks are solidly booked for me so we'll see...

Dick Whittington: Another Dick in City Hall @ Kings Head - A charity gig and one that is likely sold out for its second and third performances this Sunday. Despite being a song-free show this very (extremely) gay themed and political work made for some excellent adult panto with the right blend of sharp satire and crudeness. It was also pleasantly short - about 100 minutes including interval. Tickets are likely to be scarce or nonexistant for the last two performances this Sunday, but go if you can.

Avenue Q - I already saw the show in New York and avoided the London production due to the changes made (and subsequently put back into New York) and a dislike for the idea of a male Gary Coleman. What dragged me back, however, was having a friend in the cast making her debut as a cover. At least 20 of us showed up and it was a grand event, but I don't review shows with friends in.

And what's on the upcoming agenda? Next week looks to be a 5 show wonder with one show for official press, one by request of the press office, a return to AveQ, and two more! So much to see, and so little time.

On an unrelated subject, do any of the loyal (or disloyal) readers out there play City of Heroes? Other than the spambots, of course. It would be fun to have a theatre geek supergroup.

REVIEW: Every Good Boy Deserves Favour

2009-01-28T14:23:00.001Z

Me: Doctor! There’s a play inside my head!

Doctor: Really? How extraordinary? Is it an examination of youth culture through a veil of historical parallels inspired by German pop music?

Me: Why yes, it is. But that’s not the play I’m talking about.

Doctor: It’s the one you’re usually talking about.

Me: Well, yes. But right now I’m thinking of a play with an orchestra.

Doctor: An orchestra? With a play? 

Me: Yes.

Doctor: Well, my dear boy, that’s not a play. That’s a musical.

Me: But there aren’t any songs.

Doctor: Then what on Earth is the orchestra there for?

Me: Someone offered it to Tom Stoppard.

Doctor: So what’s it doing in your head?

Me: Well, the play inside my head is also by Tom Stoppard.

Doctor: Doesn’t that mean it’s inside Stoppard’s head?

Me: No, it’s at the National.

Doctor: So what the devil are you seeing me for?

Me: Well, it’s a play about mental illness. Or the perception of mental illness. And it has two men named Alexander Ivanov, and a boy played by a girl named Sacha Ivanov..

Doctor: The girl is named Sacha Ivanov?

Me: No, the boy she plays is named Sacha Ivanov.

Doctor: That’s an awful lot of Ivanovs. Perhaps Mr. Stoppard should be seeing me instead of you.

Me: Well, this play *does* officially kick off his mania for examining the Soviet government more thoroughly explored in The Coast of Utopia and Rock ‘n’ Roll.

Doctor: But Rock ‘n’ Roll was set in Prague.

Me: Yes. Soviet Prague.

Doctor: ...I see. So tell me more about this bizarre idea for a play.

Me: Very well. Ivanov and Ivanov are cell mates, and Ivanov believes that he has an orchestra inside his head and, being obsessed with musicians, believes Ivanov is there to either join or sabotage his orchestra. At the same time, Ivanov is not there to join the orchestra but as a political prisoner who escaped the military prisons by going on hunger strike.

Doctor: Well he certainly beats to a different drummer.

Me: No, he’s quite clearly non-musical.

Doctor: Who, Ivanov? But he has an orchestra inside his head.

Me: No, the other Ivanov. Meanwhile little Ivanov is being told off for not being musical either, for failing to play in time, and for asserting his father’s innocence and sanity which simply will. not. do. We also get a fleeting revelation that Ivanov may be hiding behind his orchestra as a coping mechanism for his own unwelcomed political leanings.

 Doctor: I’m beginning to see why this may make audiences mental.

Me: No, it’s actually quite brilliant - the fact that they all look nothing alike helps. Anyways, Ivanov tries to break free from his orchestra and fails while Ivanov asserts his sanity and refuses to lie that yes, he was mad (which he was for protesting) and therefore goes on another hunger strike which distresses the third Ivanov very much.

Doctor: So they all get shot then? That’s what normally happens in these circumstances.

Me: No, nobody gets shot, though a bassoonist gets beaten up rather badly and a few violinists go spinning. It’s quite an accomplishment that none of their plucking instruments got broken during the chaos. There’s also smart use of the Olivier’s revolve which never seems as tacky or dull as the one in Les Miz.

Doctor: Is anything as tacky or dull as Les Miz?

Me: Good point.

Doctor: But what of the actors? Surely there aren’t any actors running around in your head?

Me: No, I don’t allow actors into my head - load of good for nothings all of them. The same with musicians, which is why it’s frustrating to think of a play with an orchestra.

Doctor: Do they play all night?

Me: No, the play is a brief 65 minutes that feels like 90 but in a good way.

Doctor: In a good way?

Me: Well yes, it keeps me focused and entertained and it unfolds in a tense manner that neither flies by or plods and comes across as a well packed runtime.

Doctor: You’ve been cutting back on your theatre-going lately, haven’t you?

Me: Is it that obvious?

Doctor: Yes. Next thing you’ll tell me is that it’s worth spending two hours to go to Hammersmith or Wimbledon for a show because it’s a good experience.

Me: But you really SHOULD see Spring Awakening.

Doctor: And you’re delusional as well. So what’s left?

Me: Well, besides the question of who’s crazy, it’s a matter of knowing when it’s possible to game the system - or rather that in Soviet Russia, the system games you. Both Ivanovs attempt to subvert the system which in turn subverts their subversion and gets away scot-free, as do they.

Doctor: Really?

Me: Yes. Who’d have thought that somebody could leave a Soviet Mental Hospital without getting shot?

Doctor: So happy endings all around!

Me: Well, no. Ivanov’s second hunger strike does him in and he dies as Ivanov comes to take him home while Ivanov is off dancing in the streets to an orchestra that doesn’t exist. And the woman at the National’s box office was a total bitch who I’m glad to see replaced by a ticket dispensing machine.

Doctor: Get out of my office. How dare you imply that we should have silent, efficient ticket collection machines who won’t make snarky remarks about queues and pretending to lose your tickets like the glorious staff around the West End?

Where: National Theatre (Olivier)
When: In rep until 25 Feb., Check the NT website for times.
How Much: £10-30 (Travelex Season)
Concessions: £10-25 depending on who you are and when you buy. Day seats for £10, can be booked online and at the BO.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £15 due to the short run time.
RZ Other Notes: It was tempting to go for a Stoppard double feature this week and take in “The Real Thing” at the Tabard, but time did not permit.

PRESS RELEASE: PRIMAVERA PRESENTS SONDHEIM'S SATURDAY NIGHT

2009-01-26T11:51:00.001Z

Helena Blackman stars in Stephen Sondheim’s “credit crunch” musical SATURDAY NIGHT

Jermyn Street Theatre, London
10 February – 14 March 2009

Helena Blackman, runner-up of ‘How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?’, stars in a timely
new production of Stephen Sondheim’s first Broadway musical SATURDAY NIGHT at the
Jermyn Street Theatre, set in the days before the 1929 Wall Street Crash.

SATURDAY NIGHT is a fascinating depiction of life in the roaring twenties – when the stock
market rose five-fold in as many years, and ordinary Americans gambled on apparently
endless credit. It tells the story of Gene Gorman (David Ricardo-Pearce), a young Wall
Street clerk who dreams of leaving his ordinary life in Brooklyn, and risks everything to
gamble on the spiralling stock market – including his fiancée Helen (Helena Blackman). This
is the first time Stephen Sondheim’s newly revised version of SATURDAY NIGHT has been
seen in the UK, including the UK premiere of two new songs.

Directed by Tom Littler (Sir Peter Hall’s regular Associate Director, director of JINGO: A
FARCE OF WAR and The Scotsman Critics’ Choice production of Sondheim’s PASSION at the
2006 Edinburgh Fringe). The Musical Director is Tom Attwood (recently MD on THE HISTORY
BOYS at the National Theatre and in the West End).

Helena Blackman rose to fame when millions voted for her in the final of the BBC’s “How Do
You Solve a Problem Like Maria?”, and was recently nominated for a TMA Award as Nellie
Forbush in the national tour of SOUTH PACIFIC. Casting will also include David Ricardo-
Pearce (Anthony in the West End production of Sondheim’s SWEENEY TODD) and Joanna
Hickman (Beth in MERRILY WE ROLL ALONG and Johanna in SWEENEY TODD for John Doyle / Watermill Theatre)

NOTES TO EDITORS

Music & Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by Julius J. Epstein and Philip G. Epstein, based on their play “Front Porch in Flatbush”

BOX OFFICE INFORMATION

10th February – 14th March 2009
Tues – Sat @ 7.30pm
Sat & Sun @ 3pm

Box Office: 020 7287 2875 / www.seetickets.com

Running Time: 2 hours 30 minutes (including interval)

ABOUT PRIMAVERA

Described by The Scotsman as ‘A hugely talented company’, Primavera is led by Artistic
Director Tom Littler and Producer Chantelle Staynings, who was recently awarded the Stage
One New Producer’s Bursary for productions including Nicholas De Jongh’s PLAGUE OVER
ENGLAND. Primavera’s four Honorary Patrons are playwright and director Peter Gill; the
actors Penelope Keith, Felicity Kendal and Diana Quick; and the playwright Peter Nichols.

CATCHING UP: Mandy/Norton/Spring

2009-01-25T22:09:00.001Z

So I actually did go to quite a bit of theatre this week. However, I also had a fatal computer death from City of Heroes doing the final deed to my recalled graphics processor and making it impossible to post before Friday. Any other procrastination was, to be honest, laziness.

So first and foremost was the final performance of Mandy Patinkin’s whirlwind week in London. I’d meant to see Mr. Patinkin back in 2004 in New York but the timing didn’t work out and I missed out. To be honest, though, I didn’t really - consistency is a guarantee with the man as are overdramatic renderings of every song he does. I’m not knocking his abilities as a performer - he’s played two of my favourite roles in film (Rube in Dead Like Me and of course Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride - which he did NOT say the line from) but the Forbidden Broadway lines about Super-Frantic Hyper-Active Self-Indulgent Mandy are totally true.

That said, I still defended the man against angry audiences after who felt the set list was far too old and unfamiliar. Anybody who reads up on the man’s concerts knows exactly what they’re in for: Sondheim, more Sondheim, and classic American songbook with a focus on Tin Pan Alley and early Broadway. If you’re lucky (I wasn’t) he sings Harry Chapin.

Anyways, on to Tuesday, where I should have (but didn’t) run into the West End Whingers as we were both independently at La Cage Aux Folles to see how Graham Norton was holding up as Albin. And to be honest, they were far kinder to the man than I’m going to be - utterly horrid were both my and my companion’s opinions. He failed to land many of the jokes (this is bad for a comedy poof) and, in the words of the professional drag queen, “moved like a straight man in a dress.” He was consistently off key, out of time with the orchestra, and they significantly upped the reverb on his lowered “I Am What I Am.” At no point did I or my companion truly believe that Norton’s Albin was in love with Georges, and he was Graham Norton in a series of (very unflattering) dresses rather than a true character.

So thank goodness for Spring Awakening at the Lyric on Friday, as it was NOT “Totally Fucked” though Iwan Rheon was undoubtedly cursing out “The Bitch of Living” as he hurt his back during rehearsal and understudy Richard Southwind proclaimed “Mama Who Bore Me!” and covered Moritz for first preview. The cast are, thankfully, strong overall (minus Lucy Barker who portrays Ilse as a third-rate first-act Sally Bowles) and Christine Jones’s set fits beautifully into the Lyric’s space as does the true third star (after Sater’s book and Sheik’s music), namely Kevin Adams’s beautiful, breathtaking lighting designs. While a West End transfer is all but announced, book now and see it in the more intimate space and at a lower price. I’d also recommend sitting in the circle - there are a few design issues which are difficult if not impossible to see from the stalls due to the high stage. Highly recommended and worth the £35 top price.

Update: Why No Content?

2009-01-16T22:59:00.002Z

Believe it or not, I haven't actually seen a play this week. I did get to the Spotlight on Ruthie Henshall, but is that anything really worth writing about?

That said, I did "see" Hamlet 2, which is coming out here soon. The first 45 minutes could have been dealt with in 20, and the movie doesn't take off until Steve Coogan's character actually writes the titular mess. The laughs pick up from there, but that doesn't mean you won't find the best part of the film by searching YouTube for "Rock Me Sexy Jesus" as they released it officially as a promo clip!

Anyways, three trips planned for next week: Mandy Patinkin, a return to La Cage to see Graham Norton, and the much anticipated transfer of Spring Awakening.

THOUGHTS: “Into the Woods”

2009-01-09T19:59:00.002Z

“Does the puzzle come together,
piece by piece and row by row?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know
Where the fucking pieces go!”

OK, so the above quote isn’t from Sondheim’s Into the Woods (it’s from the also brilliant Next to Normal) but it’s fitting given the master’s fondness for puzzles, mysteries, and games: many of Sondheim’s shows exhibit jigsaw symptoms of layers and lyrics which come across as confusing on their own but come together to form a large, intricate whole. Into the Woods is very much in this vain, following on from Sunday in the Park with George in its use of linked but largely self-contained acts to illustrate a thematic whole on the childhood lessons provided by fairy tales. It's a deep show that is constantly engaging the audience from one direction or another, and multiple viewings or some quality time with the cast recording are needed to do more than scratch the surface.

To be honest, Into the Woods isn’t in my top three Sondheims (those would be Sunday, Sweeney, and Forum with Company a very close fourth) but that’s like saying Phish Food isn’t my favourite flavour of Ben & Jerry’s. I still like it, and it’s excellent stuff, but odds are good that I’ll buy a pint of Half Baked first. And, being a show which has plenty of cast recordings and an official DVD out of the original production, chances are good that regular theatregoers have previously encountered Into the Woods at some point and already have an opinion of it.

The production at Upstairs at the Gatehouse is surprisingly high-end for a Fringe production, featuring a cast of 11 well established actors - four of which double as musicians - plus TV comedian Paul Nicholas appearing through occasionally glitched but generally well done interactive video, the production is an effective demonstration of how to stretch limited funds.

And thankfully, the implementation is largely successful - Cinderella blowing the birds’ line on the flute is somehow appropriate - if not slightly gimmicky when an actor-musician is interacting with someone poking an arm through a moving projection. It says a lot that while I felt the show dragged towards the end, there wasn’t anything I could specifically point to and say “I’d change that” and even actors who didn’t immediately impress me had their moments when I could appreciate the casting. I also suspect that patrons on the thrust’s sides on busy nights may find themselves with a less than ideal view.

tl;dr: It’s a hard show (like most Sondheim) to perform at the best of times, and it's being done as well as a 120 seat venue can hope for, even if the Graduion thought the staging needed to be more metaphorical.

Where: Upstairs at the Gatehouse
When: Until 1 Feb. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £12-15 unreserved depending on the day
Concessions: £10-12 depending on the day
---------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12 will get you a seat on any night but Saturday.
RZ Other Notes: You can also get tickets for £10 on lastminute. This is the last time I’ll review a Gatehouse show here - I like the venue and the shows they do, but it feels like it’s hard to maintain the professional distance needed to review productions here clearly when you get drinks with the show’s director and one of the venue’s owners after..

REVIEW: “Hit Me”

2009-01-07T21:52:00.000Z

I’ve lamented in the past about the dissociation which comes from being foreign and trying to engage in British culture. A healthy diet of UK sitcoms and Dr. Who have gone a long way, as has following various trends in music (thank you KLF link to the Teardrop Explodes.) At the same time, I saw Never Forget not knowing what a “Take That” was and completely failed to understand Madness’ appeal when I saw Our House.

So imagine what happened when I saw a musical about Ian Dury. I honestly have no idea how to classify the man - his lyrics and performance style place him would place him in the field of outsider musicians if he were an American, but at the same time he topped the UK charts. And at the same time, the theatre was at least half empty last night so the following can’t be THAT big. It’s all rather confusing.

If nothing else, it meant I went into Hit Me with no preconceptions other than hearing something about punk and smart lyrics. And the play did indeed show off Dury’s lyrics, boasting eight of the man’s hits. The music actually turned out to be closer to the Teardrop Explodes or Madness than what I associate with punk (punk does not have keyboards or saxophones,) but it worked.

I wish I could say the same about the rest of the play. Writer/Director Jeff Merrifield has given us a two hander on Dury’s career, but it’s a messy play - much like Dury himself and his music. What we actually get are a series of anecdotes - some funny, some incomplete - told by Dury (played by last minute stand-in Adrian Schiller) and roadie Fred ‘Spider’ Rowe (Josh Darcy.) The two fight, talk over each other, and cut stories off to tell others, and while it would make an interesting backstage DVD or talk show episode, compelling and dramatic theatre it is not. While we see the two reminisce, argue, and reconcile, they speak everything else to the audience. In other words, Hit Me is two hours of narration broken up by a few songs.

This isn’t to say there aren’t some worthwhile aspects of the piece. The light-stuffed pipework maze which provides a backing wall is clever and accents the musical moments well. Schiller is also impressive, capturing both the physical limitations of the crippled Dury but also the swagger and radiation which comes from a rocker on the edge of an immolating supernova. He growls and screams Dury’s songs against an over-amplified click track, bringing a raw fury to the music. Given that Schiller rehearsed the show in a week while working two show days on a Christmas production, this is a phenomenal turnaround and he can be forgiven for requiring the occasional prompt during the mostly solo second act.

While Hit Me is far from stellar theatre, it provides an interesting introduction to a particularly British musical phenomenon and I found myself spending today looking up clips of Dury on YouTube so it manages to succeed on some levels. If nothing else, audiences who go will be treated to an excellent performance and a hilarious, if not entirely crude, interchange of vicious insults.

Where: Leicester Square Theatre
When: Until 1 Feb. Sa-Su, Tu-Th @ 19:30, Sa @ 16:30, Fr @ 19:00 & 21:50
How Much: £20-25
Concessions: £20 (regular £20 seats are in the slips.)
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10
RZ Other Notes: Where to begin....first and foremost, the lack of rake at the Leicester Square is incredibly annoying if there are people in the row in front of you, even with the stage so high. Also, the venue runs a powerpoint slide show advertising future performances INSIDE THE AUDITORIUM before the show and during the interval. Talk about the hard sell!

NOTES: “Cinderella” (Shaw Theatre)

2009-01-06T10:55:00.001Z

This production’s already closed, and all I can say is that I wish I saw it earlier in the run so that I could have done my part to warn people off: this production was absolutely terrible, putting forth every negative stereotype about panto one could imagine. The sets? Ugly. The costumes? Cheap and ugly. The TV stars? Dominic Littlewood was OK if not a bit disturbingly old as Buttons but Britt Eckland has not aged gracefully, mangling her words and forgetting her lines.

And then there’s the script: mercifully brief (45 min. per act) but the humour rarely takes off despite being a Baron Hardup edition and having the pick of the proverbial litter for satirical fodder. The song choices were OK, if not uncreative - two or three of the songs also showed up in the previously reviewed Cinderfella, which makes it doubly sad that panto writers are still using “Amarillo” as a big number. The cast in general - whose names I don’t have available - were clearly plodding through the end of a poorly sold run as the Evil Stepsisters barely stopped to breathe between lines and forced callback prompts (“Weneedtobuyadressohyeswedo.”) And then there’s the ensemble who, featuring 10 women and two men - plus children (strictly female) came across as strictly come terrifying due to permanent am-dram smiles of the sort which arise from improper cosmetic surgery or too much botox.

In short? A disappointing end to this year’s panto-going and another reminder that the hardest thing about panto is making it all seem so easy.

ARTICLE: 2008 Year In Review

2008-12-28T20:35:00.003Z

Last year at this time I was gleefully taking a holiday on the continent, but this year the funds simply aren’t available - heck, they aren’t even available to make it back to the theatre before New Year’s. Reviews are likely to be sparse for a while, barring free tickets making themselves available.

To be honest, I can do with a bit less theatre these days. My goal for 2008 was to see 100 shows, and by my estimates I went to the theatre at least 125 times this year including revisits and to see shows which I didn’t cover here for a variety of reasons (friends in, professional coverage, etc.) which is a lot - arguably too much - by anybody’s standards (short of those who usher one of the big tourist shows and see half of it eight times a week.) Needless to say, I’ve completely forgotten about most of what I saw. This news shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, as only the truly great and utterly awful remain in our memories. All of the shows mentioned below, regardless of whether or not I said they were good or bad, succeeded greatly in NOT being mediocre and forgettable. Regular readers will not be surprised to find an overwhelming number of musicals listed below as well.

SOLO/CONCERT/ETC:
“Nice Try” award - So Jest End. The author emailed regarding his dismay with my negative review, and I hope that he can take that venom and use it in future revisions of the show. I am also available to write snarky theatre parodies should anybody wish to hire my services.

Worst One-man show - An Audience With The Mafia. If I were a praying man I’d have asked god why this insipid, self-indulgent, and boring piece of dreck was allowed to make it to a stage. Easily one of the worst shows AT ALL of 2008.

Best Revue - Make Me A Song. I love William Finn, and the cast were excellent. Too bad nobody actually went, thereby ensuring that producers would see no interest in Finn in London and again passing over Spelling Bee for a London run.

Best Concert series - Maria Friedman Rearranged. While some more variety between the Menier and Trafalgar runs would have been nice, Ms. Friedman is charming and this concert series is warm and inviting.

Best One-man show - Jay Johnson: The Two and Only. A funny, touching piece about a man, his art, and the loss of heroes that was cut tragically short due to producer failure and placement in the Arts Theatre (Of DEATH!) The marquee is still posted at the Arts’ former location.

PLAYS
Best Concept In Need of a Dramaturge - Involution. This sci-fi look at genetics and religion had much to offer: a dystopian setting, interesting and conflicted characters, and some great dialogue, but it also meandered and dragged. Some well placed edits and this could be a serious contender of a piece.

Best Show That’s I Took Too Long To See - Black Watch. Finally something that justified reworking the main stage at the Barbican. So what if it toured for a year before I saw it?

Worst Characters - You’ve Been A Wonderful Audience. Dying comedians, annoying prats, and whiny sidekicks combined in the smelly furnace known as the Barons Court.

Play of Ultimate Suffering - Tough Time, Nice Time. OK OK, so I hadn’t slept for three days before seeing this due to an ongoing flu and felt like utter hell during the performance wanting nothing more than to reach a state of unconsciousness and failing miserably. One would think that two naked men sitting in a bathtub being entirely unsexy would have done the job, but sadly I made it through this one awake, in much pain, and hating every minute.

Best Adaptation - Brief Encounter. I truly regret not making more of an effort to see this delightful, cozy and brilliant production a second time. Thankfully it’s touring in 2009 and hopefully coming near London again if not making a triumphant return to the West End.

Best Pantomime - Mother Goose (Hackney Empire.) OK so I could argue that I also saw Dick Whittington for the second time in 2008 (and I liked it better) but of the three shows I’ve seen so far, this is unchallenged as the best panto of the 2008 season and likely to go unchallenged as finance is keeping me away from Croydon and Stratford.

Best Alternative Christmas Show - The Devil Wears Tweed. A hilarious send-up that got me digging for classic radio serials. And yes, it does border on being a musical. So did Brief Encounter.

Best Devised Piece - Spyski. A hilarious send-up that...hey wait a second, am I being too obvious with my love/hate of certain genres? Anyhow, this time it’s a crossover between espionage films and Oscar Wilde. What’s not to love?

Worst Classic Play - Troilus and Cressida (Barbican.) Boring, badly staged, boring, poorly costumed, boring, over-acted, boring, full of annoying characters, boring, expensive, and REALLY FUCKING BORING. Also deserves an award for Worst Stage Combat. No wonder it went over so well wherever they premiered it (somewhere on the continent that speaks French) and little wonder that I continue to avoid Shakespeare as a result.

Best Play - August: Osage County. Did you really need to ask?

MUSICALS
Best Surprise - Imagine This. I went into this expecting a horrid score and to be hit with the “help help we’re being oppressed” stick. Instead I was greeted with some sweeping tunes and the best musical staging all year.

Runner-up: A Tale of Two Cities at Upstairs at the Gatehouse. Not just for who was behind it but for making Dickens’ epic intensely intimate and for assembling one of the best casts on the London Fringe.

Best Turn-Your-Brain-Off Show - Joseph. It’s a long time personal favourite, and it’s hard not to crack a smile by the end.

Best Early Closure: RENT Remixed. Two months early. Everybody else has gone on to better jobs without skipping a beat.

Best Revival: The Music Man (Chichester.) OK so not a TONNE of competition this year, but everything about this production was spot on and even this cynical bastard felt chills of anticipation and excitement when Winston sang of the Wells Fargo Wagon. Unfortunately it appears that plans to transfer this production to the West End this spring have fallen through due to the economy.

Biggest Waste of the Creators’ Time: Rue Magique. Ten years went into this insipid mess about child prostitution. Sometimes it’s better to pull the plug and pursue alternative avenues.

Best Fringe Musical: Betwixt. Smart, funny, and charming (there’s that word again...) this show was a perfect reminder of why London is so desperately in need of more mid-sized venues. Word is that this one is bound for New York.

Most Out Of Character Production: Come Dancing. A remarkably tame celebrity pet project took centre stage in this year’s lineup at Stratford East. And while I had some issues with the piece, there’s a lot going for it and it’s always a thrill to see pop composers coming to the theatre.

Die Vampire Die Award: Dracula (White Bear.) Can we please just get Tanz der Vampire in London?

Most Overhyped Production: Marguerite. The creative team from Les Miz. One of the biggest divas in the West End. An utterly unimpressive evening with bland lyrics and the least sympathetic lead character in a musical since Scarlet O’Hara. Speaking of which....

Worst New Musical: Gone With The Wind. Not only did GWTW have a longer gestation period than Rue Magique, it had far more money behind it and a creative team which should have known far, far better and taken the necessary steps to either quit while ahead or perform the radical reworkings needed to make this piece tolerable. While Rue Magique was certainly an example of what not to do in writing a musical, it was never boring - a term which more than aptly described Gone With The Wind.

Best Musical Performance: Elena Roger in Piaf. Talk about a celebrity vehicle! And a personal one as well - my professional writing debut was a review of the Donmar’s production.

Best New Musical: Eurobeat, The Harder They Come (tie.) Funny enough, neither of these is *truly* new (both ran on the fringe long before I saw them) but they were new to me and I wound up visiting each four times. Eurobeat was wickedly funny and full of catchy novelty pop songs. The Harder They Come may have been a film adaptation, but with the original creatives contributing the film’s anarchic spirit and grit came across surprisingly well, especially after the show took up residence in the small yet lavish Playhouse vs. the impersonal bunker at the Barbican (I felt more involved in the circle at the Playhouse than in the front row at the Barbican.) Sadly both shows came to premature demises - the former closing two weeks early after a disastrous tour and the latter closed two months ahead of schedule. But amazing they were, and will be fondly remembered.

Here’s looking forward to 2009 and posts requiring far less formatting.

NOTES: Noel at Noel

2008-12-21T11:43:00.003Z

When I saw Brief Encounter earlier this year, words such as "nice," "pleasant," and "old-fashioned" were terms that I frequently used in a positive manner to describe Kneehigh's remarkable production.

I'm going to use those same words to describe Noel at Noel, currently at the New End, but with an opposing connotation: Australian cabaret singer John Michael Swinbank gives us two hours of Coward classics, but despite some occasionally amusing anecdotes, there's no real spark or passion which grabs the audience and refuses to let them go. To be entirely honest, I came very near to dozing off during the first half, and relied on a coffee during the interval to get me through the second. Swinbank is by no means a bad singer, but the show just failed to captivate or particularly entertain me although the OAPs surrounding me were far more amused - perhaps this is merely a generational difference.

THOUGHTS: "The Devil Wears Tweed"

2008-12-20T12:33:00.003Z

Sorry readers, I've got two shows today and one tomorrow to cover for freelance. I'm also in a disturbingly lazy mood, so this one is being kept short.

And the short of it is this: The Warehouse have put on some top notch Christmas-time entertainment that is well worth taking a trip out to Zone 5 to see.

For, you see, instead of pantomime, the company have instead looked to Britain's great history of broadcast entertainment to create a series of new adventures featuring legendary radio hero Dick Barton, Special Agent. Since 1998 the Warehouse have produced five new adventures for the adult Dick Barton and now two prequels. Each episode is a loving riff on postwar radio serials complete with anachronism, overblown dialogue, Imperial pride, and a tongue in cheek appreciation of the tropes which made the original great. This year's show, Young Dick Barton II: The Devil Wears Tweed is no exception as Dick crosses the globe in search of a three piece suit which grants the wearer unlimited power.

I'd love to say more, but it would spoil everything and the fun is in the surprises. The cast (including multitalented author Duncan Wisbey), most of whom take a multitude of roles, are uniformly top notch, and Stefan Bednarczyk's lyrics (Bednarczyk also appears in the cast) are more clever than any heard recently in the West End.

So what are you waiting for? Get booking!

Where: Warehouse Theatre, Croydon
When: Until 22 Feb. Performance times vary.
How Much: £14.50-£17.50 (includes day membership in the venue)
Concessions: Limited but bookable in advance for £10.50
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RZ Unofficial "Worth Paying": £17.50. One of the best things on offer this holiday season.
RZ Other Notes: It's cheaper (and easier) to buy your ticket to Croydon from the Underground office at London Bridge than the National Rail ticketing office.

REVIEW: Peter Pan (Richmond)

2008-12-16T11:35:00.003Z

In the past ten years, the world of British Pantomime has seen an upheaval in its production methodology thanks to the rise of the QDOS and First Family Entertainment companies (the latter being a joint between the Ambassador Theatre Group and LiveNation.) Both companies are responsible for mass produced pantos, chock full of celebrities - both American and British - and and in the case of the former, special effects (last year’s QDOS Aladdin featured a 3D holographic genie) and, sadly, a rather generic product.

For foreign readers, I should explain a bit about panto season: A panto’s lifespan is merely six to eight weeks, and productions almost always sell out, which is why a number of smaller regional companies use their annual production as a key fundraiser. That said, most modern pantomimes are remarkably high end productions featuring as many set changes as a West End musical and possibly even more costumes so getting one up is frighteningly expensive and because these are family shows and frequently populated by school groups, ticket prices need to stay low. For performers, panto is absolute hell: the performance schedule ranges from 12 to 16 performances a week.

Needless to say, there’s a lot of money flying around and for a commercial producer, it’s an absolutely daunting proposition. Enter QDOS and FFE who have an advantage that independent companies, such as the Hackney Empire don’t: scale. This year, for example, FFE are putting on 12 shows, and QDOS are putting on even more. Of them, most will in some way be recycled - the sets and costumes go into storage come February and go off to a new city in December, sometimes with the prior year’s script (albeit with a few updates to reflect local interests and current affairs.) In other words, the manufacturing costs go down (65% of the QDOS budget goes to production payroll) and if a theatre in Glasgow gets last year’s show from Brighton, well, it’s new to them.

Anyways, this leads us to this year’s Peter Pan at the Richmond Theatre. While amusing, March’s disastrous run of the Spanish Peter Pan El Musical did little to endear me to the story, which I loved growing up (thanks to the cartoon on Fox.) Unfortunately, there was little new about this more traditional production. In this case, Peter Pan is in a similar place to last year’s Cinderella at the Old Vic, as it straddles the line between family play and proper panto. Bonnie Langford is lovely and something of an institution in the title role (one she’s been playing on and off for at least twenty years) but somebody forgot to direct in at least one mandatory pantomime thigh-slap amidst some impressive aerials. Simon Callow tried as Captain Hook, but the role’s true menace down - a child behind me was cheering him on and Callow had to demand boos from the audience in the first act. Tony Rudd was fun in the role of bumbling Boson Smee, but Samantha Gifford was rather bland as Wendy (not really her fault - the role exists to stamp down everybody else’s fun.) The singalong at the end was also a standby ("What do you do with a drunken sailor?") and audience members were left without a lyric sheet (I confess that I don't know the middle part) and it didn't matter anyways because the sound in the upper circle was awful.

This was my first time at one of the major companies’ shows, and I’ll be entirely honest: I only went because I wanted to see Bonnie Langford. I paid about £10 more for my seat in the upper circle than I did for centre stalls at Mother Goose in Hackney (factoring in booking fee and transit to Zone 4,) and received a show that was professional in every way, but ultimately lacking in excitement and Panto Power.

And I have another Peter coming up after Christmas as well. Because there’s no way I’m missing Brian Blessed as Captain Hook.

Where: Richmond Theatre, Richmond
When: Until 11 Jan., M, W-Sa @ 14:00 and 19:00, Su @ 13:30 and 17:30
How Much: £20-£27
Concessions: Family tickets and concessions available on a limited basis.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £15. It wasn’t bad, but wasn’t great.
RZ Other Notes: While the upper circle lacks leg room, the rake is fantastic and I had a clear view of everything on stage except for about 20 seconds where the Darling children fly to the absolute top of the space and their heads were missing. I didn’t get to check out the first circle or the stalls, but I’d avoid any rear section for this show.

Also, I really wish they weren’t selling all sorts of spinning toys with flashing lights and loud motors. Sadly these sold in abundance and it looked like every child in the audience had one - I think I saw more of these than interval ice creams.

THOUGHTS: “Potted Potter”

2008-12-12T12:23:00.001Z

(Second review in a day. Family Friendly season continues. This got professionally reviewed last year and may or may not get covered again this year, so just a short one from me.)

I love the Harry Potter books. While I didn’t get into the series until book four had been long published, I pre-ordered books five and six for same day delivery and went to midnight madness for book seven (even if I did read the leaked version online in advance - I was surrounded by 4channers that weekend and didn’t want to be spoiled.) Needless to say, the thought of a comedic redux was appealing, but I didn’t have a chance to make it to last year’s run at Trafalgar Studios.

Fortunately Potted Potter is back, still performed by its creators Daniel Clarkson and Jefferson Turner, and still promising all seven books in 70 minutes. Needless to say, it’s also fortunate is that Potted Potter is pretty darn funny, revelling in the books’ formula and embracing the inner fan in all of us. From the audience quidditch match (complete with appropriate levels of violence) to Dan’s demands to stop playing the rather dull Harry and take over as Dumbledore right as Book 6 is about to end (no spoilers here!), the show is sharp, hilarious, and revels in its low budget.

Will non-Harry fans have a reason to go? Not really. But Potter aficionados, both young and old, will have a ball. Just not a Yule Ball - this is a show performed at Christmas, not a Christmas show.

Where: Trafalgar Studios 2
When: Varies. Most days are two shows at 12:00, 15:00, or 19:00.
How Much: £20
Concessions: Children and standard concessions £15. Family tickets for £60.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £15. A short Fringe show at Fringe prices.
RZ Other Notes: QUIDDITCH! DRAGON!

Review: "The Dreamers of Inishdara"

2008-12-12T12:08:00.001Z

Sometimes you see a listing and the description just clicks: An Irish country setting, a concept reminiscent of Stardust, and a legendary lady in the cast. And sometimes, the execution just fails it completely.

Leanah Dubh (Gemma-Leah Davreux) is a half-fairy postmodernist painter (a la Jackson Pollock) with a migraine: separated from the Irish land she falls weak, dependent on stranger Crow Murphy to get her home safe. Once recovered, Leanah needs Crow to leave - and fast. Her saintly landlord’s evil brother (Peter Dunne as Brian Quigley type Dick Branigan) has barred men from the premises and will evict her if one is found. Matters are complicated by the arrival of a space-case leprechaun (Patricia Quinn in fine form) who informs Leanah that she is to marry the Fairy King - a daunting proposition.

There’s a lot going for the play: the characters (minus an uncomfortably out of place parish priest) are interesting, and the story was interesting and well paced.

And then things start going wrong. Much of the dialogue could have been scripted for fantasy LARPers, and while green themes are hot, the constant reminders of Irish natural beauty are overdone. Accent troubles also abounded, particularly from Mr. Dunne who wandered between Ballykissangel Irish and Rupert Murdoch Australian and Stephen Elliot MacDonald who to my ears sounded Scottish instead of country Irish. The appearance of an English bulldozer driver at the end whose sole purpose was to finalise Dick’s redemption, was awkward and a waste of an ensemble member. And then there’s the higher than average Fringe ticket price, rivalling those of professional pantos.

I don’t want to imply that The Dreamers of Inishdara is horrible or a wasted night out - it’s absolutely not - but the play feels like a work in progress at this state and could benefit from some time with a dramaturge. It’s also a difficult work to judge because it’s right on the border of “family play” and “adult play” and my expectations vary between the two. It’s (mostly) entertaining and (mostly) well acted and an intimate and choice, but with so much family fare up and running this time of year, The Dreamers of Inishdara is likely to find itself dreaming of full houses rather than being blessed with them.

Where: Jermyn Street Theatre
When: Until 13 Dec. 08, 19:30 PM, Sa @ 15:30
How Much: £22
Concessions: £16
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £13.50 (Half price plus TKTS fee)
RZ Other Notes: Yeah. I booked this to see Patricia Quinn, who did not disappoint. Even from the next to back row, this is likely to be the most intimate setting one will see this legendary lady perform in.

THOUGHTS: “Sinderfella”

2008-12-09T15:55:00.000Z

As readers can probably guess, I love the great British art of pantomime. The colours, the shouting, the good fairy entering in a giant penis costume.

OK, so the last one is a bit odd, but nevertheless appeared in this new example of the all grown up sub-genre of adult pantomime. Tacky, crude, and raunchy as can be, Sinderfella is cheap, in your face, and a good time when sober - but those around me were clearly enjoying themselves more after at least a couple drinks.

The cast, led by London drag standard Bette Rinse, are clearly having fun as the double (and single) entendres fly, dildos are waved, and the Ugly Sisters (Peter Kosta and Simon Gross, the latter also being the author/director) torment both poor Cinders and the audience more savagely than in your standard kiddie fare. To my surprise, though, this production (despite all the drag and the location) was actually LESS gay than Stephen Fry’s Old Vic show last year.

Yes, it looks cheap (it was) and yes, there’s too much music in the second act (7 full songs in 30 minutes) and yes, they do play “Be Our Guest” far, far too often, but Sinderfella is a foul-mouthed hoot nonetheless.

Where: Above the Stag Theatre
When: Until 22 Dec., M/W @ 19:30, Th-Sa @ 21:00, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £12 general seating
Concessions: None
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10.
RZ Other Notes: If you buy a programme you get a free raffle ticket for a gift that made the winning lady smile quite a bit.

REVIEW: “Sunset Blvd.”

2008-12-08T16:56:00.001Z

Actor-musicians.

This simple, hyphenated word brings terror to the hearts of musical theatre fans everywhere, for as every production putting this concept to use (e.g. Sam Mendes’s Cabaret and John Doyle’s Company) shows, there are just as many proponents of creativity as there are decriers of the reduced, simplified arrangements and often passable but not impressive playing, let alone the claims that one craft is impinging on the other’s place. As long as small theatres like the Watermill continue wishing to produce musicals, however, the need for compromise will occur.

The new Sunset Blvd. is another Watermill birth: the actors are the orchestra, and a formerly grand show is re-imagined as a chamber piece. I never saw the original, lavish productions in the 90’s, which gave me nothing to compare this production to causing me to judge this production cold (and not just because my companion for the afternoon was running late!)

I won’t bother to include a synopsis, as the details are available on Wiki and both the musical and the original film on which it is based have been skewered countless times, including a brilliant rendition on Tiny Toon Adventures, so even those not directly familiar with the work are likely to have been exposed to some aspect of the story. I will say, however, that the material left me neutral. I enjoyed myself, and a number of the songs are great (the opening “Let’s do Lunch,” the sarcastic “Every Film is a Circus,” and the frantic title song) but the score is decidedly middle of the road for Lord Lloyd-Webber and while Sunset Blvd. is thoroughly professional and dramaturgically sound, the original film is a timeless classic and gains little from being musical-ised.

Getting back to this rendition, however, I felt the actor-musician concept worked. While I was quite impressed technically - the actors are constantly switching off instruments - I felt the concept neither added nor detracted from the material. The arrangements weren’t particularly thin, but I do wonder if they intentionally snuck a few riffs in as I heard bits of Phantom and Les Miz sneaking into the background on some songs.

What DID work to the production’s benefit, however, was size. We see events unfold from Joe’s perspective, and Diego Pitarch’s small set with its cold, steel revolving staircase lent itself to the cramped quarters at the Comedy. Playing the show in a large set would add to the sense of decay, but the mounting pressures and tensions play better in a venue that promotes the human over the mechanical. That said, I felt that the intimacy and the claustrophobia must have been diminished over the tinier Watermill and I was only in the first circle.

While the actors may still be finding their roles again in the new space, the performances I saw from the four principles were almost all mixed: Kathryn Evans as the great Norma Desmond only hit her stride in the second act, though once she did she easily made up for any earlier failings. Ben Goddard found the piece’s comedy as the acerbic Joe, but seemed absent (and musically off) from his second act love scene with Laura Pitt-Pulford’s bland Betty. In my book, the only actor to maintain his presence and intensity for the entire performance was Dave Willetts as the delightfully and domineeringly creepy Max.

In short? There’s nothing bad or particularly wrong about this Sunset, but it never quite hits the point of greatness that it strives for. Musical fans (especially ALW fans) should go, but I don’t feel right recommending it for, say, the once a year crowd. A strictly middle of the road Meh from me.

Where: Comedy Theatre
When: M-Sa @ 19:30, W/Sa @ 14:30, varies for Christmas week.
How Much: £17-£64
Concessions: Likely, check at the box office. Preview tickets are £10-£20 off.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £25
RZ Other Notes: The original production of Sunset Blvd. was so lavish that it ran for years and never made a cent in profit due to ongoing expenses and some rather costly personnel choices. I suspect that this production will not have the same problems.

NOTES/REVISIT: “Sweeney Todd” + “Imagine This”

2008-12-06T11:27:00.001Z

I had a chance to catch the Union’s production of Sondheim’s legendary Sweeney Todd this week, but won’t be reviewing it as I also have a friend in the cast. It’s also sold out and closing on Sunday.

It did, however, give me an excuse to bring up an old debate: What’s the difference between London AmDram and most of the London Fringe? After all, nobody’s getting paid at either of them and I’ve seen pros slumming it in London AmDram for exposure.

This was also my first trip to the Union, and it’s a nifty venue - I’d love to put something like Hedwig in there. I’d also want to get the seats redone - they rival the Menier for being uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, I wasn’t planning to revisit Imagine This, but a friend wanted to go and it’s not exactly hard to get free tickets (or discounts - they were handing out £25 fliers afterwards) so back to the New London I went. The show’s been tightened up a bit since I saw it originally, but it’s still in need of one more revision - the campy slave character is still annoyingly out of place and the first act didn’t hit particularly well with my friend or a fair bit of the audience, but the second act certainly did - even if I’d personally cut the final song. In short, it’s flawed but so much is good (score, cast, design, and yes, concept) that I stand by saying that Imagine This is worth giving a chance on a discount.

REVIEW: “Mother Goose” (Hackney Empire)

2008-11-30T18:52:00.001Z

(Rapid Fire Review #3 in one day. Read below for thoughts on this year’s Perfect Pitch festival and Maria Friedman’s concert series at Trafalgar Studios.)

Growing up in the US, I was raised devoid of the great British tradition of Christmas panto, and only discovered the form last year as part of a group research project. Deciding that I should actually see the thing I was writing about, I went with my research partner to the Hackney Empire’s production of Dick Whittington as it was the only choice in the immediate London area which was open before our deadline.

As readers of last year’s review may remember, I was hooked. Hard. And, as it turned out, so were most of the mainstream critics who showered the production with raves. With such hype and fondness, the bar was set insanely - nay, impossibly - high for this year’s piece, Mother Goose. And, as you may have guessed, Mother Goose doesn’t quite reach Dick’s heights - which doesn’t mean that it’s still not a damn good show regardless.

Set in the town of Dalstonia, Hackneytopia, a battle between good and evil (the witches Charity and Vanity) is underway with the soul of poor yet optimistic Mother Goose on the line. While most of the standard panto tricks and cliches are in place (audience callbacks - scaled down in variety and quantity from last year, rhyming narrators, lots of weddings, bright medieval costumes, slapstick, etc.) Mother Goose is a subversive entry for two vivid differences.

First, there is no principal boy. Then again, there’s no PB in Cinderella or Snow White so take it as you will.

Second, this is the only pantomime with a singular Dame (the ever-wonderful Clive Rowe) who becomes the focal character *and* takes a heel turn: when gifted with the golden egg laying goose Priscilla, the Mother Goose character becomes self-centred and nasty in a radical departure from the loveable comedic characters that define most panto dames. I don’t actually have a problem with this - Susie McKenna’s script pulls off the transition well, and Rowe has both the acting chops and the charisma to make us want him to pull through the challenges at play.

I don’t have gripes with the ensemble of actors either - most of whom have returned from last year’s show including Kat B. as comedic role Billy Goose and Tameka Empson as good witch Charity. As for the rest of the cast, I’d like to name them but I didn’t get a programme and the Empire’s website fails to supply a list of cast members by role (nor are there photos yet to note from.)

So what are the issues? Well, the first act drags and feels particularly long. I had this complaint with last year’s show as well, but didn’t notice the problem on my second viewing. As the show is still in previews until Thursday, I suspect that there is still tightening to be done. I also caught a number of recycled jokes (are there lines which are supposed to be panto standards? More investigation is necessary) and recognised more licensed music this year (including a song from The Harder They Come) and fewer original tunes. While I have no proof to back me up, I suspect that Susie McKenna supplying not just the Hackney panto with a script and lyrics this year but also the New Wimbledon’s Cinderella may have played a part.

Most saddening, however? Clive Rowe isn’t allowed to throw sweets into the upper levels of the house anymore as *one* complaint filed by an angry patron (out of 45,000) last year caused a change in policy. It’s the destruction of simple, innocent acts like this which make the season a continual downer.

But me? I left feeling happy as can be. These are minor, nitpicker’s gripes here and the fact is that the Hackney Empire’s panto truly is on form for yet another year.

Where: Hackney Empire
When: Until 10 Jan., showtimes vary from M-Sa, two shows/day.
How Much: £9-19.50
Concessions: Vary, bookable in advance.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £19.50 for a top notch show.
RZ Other Notes: No, I’m not getting paid by the Empire to shill. I wish I was. I also wish they’d offer one or two child free performances for the childless adults who wish to come and not look like paedophiles.

REVISIT: “Maria Friedman Rearranged”

2008-11-30T18:21:00.000Z

(Rapid Fire Review #2 as I clear through a week involving far, far too much theatre.)

So instead of going to the third night of Perfect Pitch on Thursday, a friend wanted to see Maria Friedman at Trafalgar 1 and I could get us ultra-cheap tickets, so I figured why not. “I can deal with seeing six shows in a week, really,” I thought to myself and put the booking in. While said friend ended up getting sick and being unable to attend, I dragged myself out of the house, taking comfort in being able to watch two episodes of Rose of Versailles on the tube.

It would, of course, be just my luck that the already late-starting show (scheduled for 20:30 or 21:00 on weekends) would start extra late as this being the first preview nobody had bothered to accurately work out how long it would take to change the sets from the early evening performance of Horrid Henry. The result? Standing around in a very crowed and tiny bar area for an extra half hour.

Was the show worth it? I guess. The setlist was identical to that at the Chocolate Factory, but trimmed down to an interval-less 95 minutes. Ms. Friedman has a lot of fun doing these concerts, and her charm and enthusiasm rubs off onto the audience making it hard not to leave satisfied, but I honestly wasn’t in the mood to appreciate most of it and wished that I’d stayed home and given myself the much needed night off that I’m only getting now.

In other words, yes, it’s worth going if you’re a particular fan of Ms. Friedman or you haven’t seen this particular concert series before, but if you’ve already been you can spend the night elsewhere without regret.

Where: Trafalgar Studios 1
When: Until 04 Jan., W-F @ 20:30, Sa @ 21:00, Su @ 18:00
How Much: £25-35
Concessions: No idea.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying:” £20
RZ Other Notes: I gave this gig the same worth paying at the Menier despite the set being a good 15-20 minutes longer. The seats are more comfortable, however, at Trafalgar and £20 will get you a ticket at TKTS including the booking fee. I think the show also works better in the shortened form, but YMMV.

THOUGHTS: Perfect Pitch Festival 2008

2008-11-30T17:59:00.003Z

Another year, another Perfect Pitch. This year the festival changed from showcasing 10 shows (15-60 min. presentations) at Upstairs at the Gatehouse to showcasing 6 (45-55 min. presentations) at Trafalgar Studios 2. While the new location lends to the festival’s cred, the reduction in showcased material - especially when two of the six were by the same person - is disappointing even if the bump in casting is equally impressive.

That said, I went on two nights and saw four of the pieces. As these works are still in development I won’t get into too much detail but will stick to general impressions.

First and foremost, I thought that while the scores to all of the shows were good, three of the four were identical in style - I felt as though I could cut apart the music and put the songs into different pieces without suspecting something wrong. Part of this is undoubtedly due to the limited (or entire lack of) arrangements used, as hearing theatrepop scores on piano alone (or with simplified string and/or acoustic guitar) makes it difficult to appreciate uniqueness in full. Now on with the individual shows:

Lift - Nine people ride the lift at Covent Garden station and their lives meet and intertwine. It’s a nifty idea, and while I don’t think the show could easily scale to the West End, I can see it fitting in comfortably at somewhere like the Chocolate Factory or the Kings Head. Likewise this would work quite well as a concept album. It’s a good (if not overly white) representation of modern London.

The Diary of Me - A rebellious 16 year old comes to terms with his estranged father dating again after his mother dies while understanding friendship and relationships. This would have been more interesting had I not seen Shit Mix a month earlier: fairly standard youth theatre fare, would do well somewhere like Oval House or on a TIE programme.

Can You Keep A Secret - A mother is constantly moving with her two daughters: one who fails to establish friendships online or in person yet falls for a local bad boy and another who is shy and escapes into a fantasy world with dangerous repercussions on reality. Similar thoughts to The Diary of Me, but taken from a more adult perspective. Word is that the teenage relationships involved are actually the main ones but the adults became the focus in order to keep things clean for the 45 min. format. The fantasy elements will, I suspect, be better dealt with when scenery and the full running time are involved.

The Lost Christmas - A pair of robots from the year 4000 come back to the present to find something missing from the winter season, meeting up with a girl in a traditional, respectable middle-upper class liberal family. The standout score of the bunch, the music here is more pastiche than straightforward and it works out well. This show probably worked best in the 45 min. format (along with Lift which is more episodic than linear) and this would make a nice alternative to panto.

In short: nothing OMGWOW but there’s clear potential in all cases and I wish I could have seen the last two shows (Rebels and Retail, which looks like a British Walmartopia and Through the Door, a time travel romance.) The scarier thing is that the festival organisers consider themselves to be a stepping stone in early or middle development for a five to ten year development cycle. IMHO that’s an excessive period, but not a surprising one these days - Next to Normal - currently running in DC - has been going for 10 years (even if it was production worthy after seven,) Rue Magique also made it to ten despite staying a disaster, and even RENT was being worked on for the better part of five years (arguably seven including when Larson and Aronson were toying around with it.) The turnaround time on production is only getting higher (remember the days when composers banged out a new show in 1-3 years?) and it's frightening to think that in many cases the reward is a 1 hour edition at a festival with 1800 other shows competing for eyes or 6-8 weeks on the Fringe with few places to follow up.

On that note, I wish the best of luck to all involved, and let’s all look forward to 2009.

REVIEW: “August: Osage County”

2008-11-25T11:16:00.001Z

To be honest, there’s not a lot for me to say: the New York press and blogosphere already reviewed this show to death last year when it opened on Broadway, and the London edition is an exact clone down to all but two members of the Original Broadway Cast coming over to reprise their roles. So, if you want a review of the play or the acting, google the Broadway reviews because nothing’s changed.

And by “nothing’s changed” I include the fact that August: Osage County kicks ass. A lot of it. While I’m not saying that this is the sort of play which will drive repeat visits (I doubt I’ll go back before it closes,) it’s very much worth seeing once and tickets are still available for all nights after this week. Believe the hype and make your booking while you still can. Go on, I’ll wait for you.

All set? Good. Now shut up and eat your damn fish.

Where: National Theatre/Lyttleton
When: Until 21 Jan. T-Su @ 19:15, Sa @ 14:00, Su @ 15:00, Varying weekday matinees @ 14:00
How Much: £10-£41
Concessions: Day seats are sold when the BO opens for £10 (front row stalls and circle slips). Standard NT concessions apply for students/seniors/unemployed/etc.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £41. Cheaper than Broadway for an excellent new work of American drama.
RZ Other Notes: If going for day seats, try to get the back row of the circle first, then the slips, then the front row of the stalls. The stage is high and the set is extremely vertical and spread out so you’ll be leaving with a major crick in your neck after 3+ hours of staring up.

THOUGHTS: “Imagine This”

2008-11-20T15:36:00.002Z

(Second post today - the current tour of Noises Off is covered below - and post #150 overall. I even managed to turn in a job application as well!)

I have a proper byline for reviewing this show, so just a quick opinion here as every other critic has weighed in.

I liked Imagine This even though I really didn’t want to going in. I thought the music was beautiful and epic (I can forgive musical anachronism and the people complaining about it seem to forget about Wildhorn, Boubil & Schonberg, etc.), the cast great, and the design stunning. I didn’t think it was perfect, however: the book has issues with tonal consistency, the jokes a bit too simplistic, and the inclusion of a particularly camp character (the term “flaming” would be the un-PC way to put it) struck me as one suspension of disbelief too far given the presented company’s religious leanings. Likewise I had an issue with the idealisation of martyrdom in the renewed age of religious terrorism but I appear to have been the only person writing about the show to do so.

While much of the show has been overhauled since its out of town run in Plymouth, I can’t help but think that Imagine This would have benefited greatly from a second out of town tryout to ensure structural integrity before fine tuning in the West End: the makings of greatness are there but it still needs further refinement should the producers decide to try again elsewhere.

It’s also telling (though I’m still not 100% sure what) that I enjoyed myself and my companion for the evening - someone even more jaded than I am and a good 20 years older - loved it, as did even the West End Whingers, but the official critics did not. Word of mouth is split on this one between an “I liked it and recommend it but didn’t OMGWOW” faction and a “This is utter shite and even Paris Hilton: The Jukebox Musical would be better” group. I’m in the former, and officially consider Imagine This to be a show that patrons will have to judge for themselves.

REVIEW: “Noises Off” (Touring)

2008-11-20T11:38:00.000Z

(The reviews continue through Job Hunting Hell as your author attempts to procrastinate writing yet another cover letter.)

It takes a lot for me to justify the effort involved in crossing London to see a show at the New Wimbledon. Sometimes I’ll genuinely want to see a show coming in and other times it’s to get to a production before it comes into the West End at inflated prices (I’m looking at you, Carousel, which I had to miss...)

I didn’t go to Noises Off for either reason. I saw the Broadway revival in 2002 starring Peter Gallagher as sardonic director Lloyd and Patti LuPone as the er...dotty...Dotty, and though I liked it quite a bit, it’s very much a “once is enough” kind of play. So why go again? Because I am an utter anorak and catching the tour meant seeing an ex Doctor Who on stage in the form of Colin Baker.

For anybody who hasn’t seen Noises Off at the National, on one of many countless tours, or in regional, it can be a bit hard to describe. The first act takes place as a low end touring company are working through their last minute dress rehearsal of a door-slammer farce (Quick, into the bedroom! No not that bedroom, this one that looks like a bathroom!) It’s clear from the start that things are going pear shaped as nobody can remember lines or blocking and personal drama is starting to rear its head as we find out that co-producer actress Dotty (Maggie Steed) is having a relationship with one of her co-stars while director Lloyd (Ben Hull...I think, the website lacks details) is sleeping with both bimbo Belinda and stage manager Poppy whom he ruthlessly belittles onstage. Compounding issues are various offstage divorces, an overworked tech director, and drunken, half-deaf Selsdon (Baker) disappearing at inopportune times as the cast attempt to keep him sober.

The real triumph, however, lies in the second act: it’s six weeks into the tour and tensions flare backstage as the affairs split, change partners, and cause all sorts of general havoc. Where author Michael Frayn is so brilliant is in showing us the chaotic backstage happenings within a (mostly) successful performance of the actual play. It goes downhill again for act three, however, as we see the final performance falling apart from the first line.

Is this a solid production? Yes. Should you go if you haven’t seen it before? Yes. Is there a reason to go back if you’re not interested in the comedically gifted cast? Not really. The sets and general direction are both based on the National’s original production from the 80’s, so there isn’t anything new if you’re expecting more than nostalgia. That doesn’t change the fact, however, that Noises Off is still laugh out loud hilarious and manages to fulfil the demands of farce while subverting it at every opportunity.

Where: Touring, currently the New Wimbledon
When: Until 22 Nov., no idea after. Th-Sa @ 19:30, Th/Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £10-£25
Concessions: Student tickets available at the venue, no idea otherwise.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £20. Solid production, good play, great cast.
RZ Other Notes: That said, don’t pay more than you have to. There’s a best available for £15 offer from Whatsonstage.com and the upper circle (where the £10-12 tickets are) was closed the night I went (though the stalls were pretty full) so upgrades to at least the dress circle are likely.

REVIEW: “Treasure Island”

2008-11-19T14:20:00.002Z

Ladies and gentlemen! In the red corner, weighing in at three weeks, a run of solid and entertaining plays leading to a happy reviewer! In the blue corner, weighing in at nine months, a continual run of disappointment from the Theatre Royal Haymarket! Which of these giants will win?

The answer, if you’ve read any of the papers lately, is obvious: the Haymarket curse strikes again, this time intruding on what should have been an exciting adventure romp and leaving it with two hours of tepid, uninspired mush where one of the great pirate tales ever written should have been.

I’m not going to bother getting into the plot as I'm presuming that most readers here will have a familiarity with the Treasure Island story either from the original novel or some form of reinterpretation, be it the 60’s Animal Treasure Island cartoon, the Muppet version, or any other edition of your choice, and therefore spoil at will.

It all goes wrong starting with Ken Ludwig’s script. In another case of “why show or visualise what you can narrate,” protagonist Jim (charmingly albeit not boyishly played by Michael Legge) tells us everything: his feelings at making his first kill, his fears, how the boat moved, and so on. For example, Jim tells us in a narration that he cut the Hispaniola’s anchor but then it comes up again in the dialogue moments later in a redundant display of redundancy.

Next there’s the music. While Treasure Island is a play with a few songs, it has a mere two or three which are repeated constantly. I’ve got more pirate songs (even public domain ones) on my iPod than were used in the show, and that’s just a handful of Jolly Rogers tracks I found on Audiogalaxy over five ago. More shanties, less repetition. This production also deserves an award for sound effects overkill, from the blind man’s staff getting an extra electronic bang to heartbeats and a mechanical bird whose gears we can hear spinning away in the stalls.

Third, the swordfighting. The first fight scene was wisely choreographed in the dark with occasional flashes from a lantern for a worthwhile reason: besides looking cool it covered up the fact that what we did see of the fighting was pretty bad. Fortunately the big fight scenes in the second act look significantly better.

And then we have the design. I liked the wooden floors and ropes and jungle bits and bobs because they had the right feeling: ship, jungle, old inn, all good. The suck factor comes from Dan Kugels’ video projections, which reminded me of another show I’d seen through the entire first act even though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. Only during the interval did the realisation dawn on me: the projections were of the same types used in Lestat. This, by the way, is not a complement. Do we need to see spiders flash on the wall when Jim describes his nightmares of blind pirates? No. Do we need to see red blobs when Billy talks about his heart going? No. Do we all the same? Yes.

Finally, there’s the cast. They’re trying, heaven help them, but most of what they’re trying to do is keep their pirate-y accents which is about all they really *can* do given the slightness of the ensemble’s characterisation. It is mandatory, however, to give Keith Allen credit for being every bit the smooth talking fellow Long John Silver needs to be, living up to his star billing.

As I left the Haymarket, thoroughly battered, the question on my mind was “why?” As in “Why did they bother?” I wasn’t bored by Treasure Island, but I wasn’t impressed or charmed by it either: the show was, as a good friend of mine puts it, beige. What’s said is how much I wanted to like this: I love pirate stories (pirates > ninjas any day) and even found myself amused at the ill-fated Peter Pan: El Musical, but Treasure Island gave me nothing to walk away with: it’s 100% bland, empty, and forgettable fare fine for community and AmDram companies looking for a low-rent show over the holidays, but as a West End alternative? Save your pirate plunder for the punchy pair of Peter Pan pantos in Croydon and Richmond instead.

Where: Theatre Royal Haymarket
When: Until 28 Feb., W-Sa @ 19:30, Tu @ 19:00, W/Sa @ 14:30, Su @ 15:00
How Much: £20-45
Concessions: Seniors £20 matinees best available booked in advance, students £20 upper circle on the day, family discounts available.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £5. This isn’t a worthless production that’ll eat your brain alive, but there’s no reason to pay either.
RZ Other Notes: I was under the overhang from the circles so I don’t know how filled they were but the stalls were rather deserted. If you do go, keep an eye on the start times because they’re all over the place - I forgot last night’s show was at 19:00 until I checked my booking at 18:10 and made it to the theatre with just enough time to use the gents’ before taking my seat.

REVIEW: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat

2008-11-18T01:08:00.002Z

(If you're here because you saw the URL in the Evening Standard, please send an email or leave a comment as I'd like to know if anybody cared enough to visit as a result.)

It’s the revival that nobody wanted: constantly toured kiddy fare and led by someone off of a reality show. In all honesty, though - and that’s generally what readers want from a critic - I love this show. It’s not Andrew Lloyd Webber’s best (that remains Jesus Christ Superstar in my book) or even my favourite (Starlight Express) but Joseph is a fun turn-your-brain-off evening, and it’s got some excellent numbers (“Close Every Door,” “Any Dream Will Do,” and my personal favourite ALW song ever, “Pharaoh Story.”) It’s also been about ten years since I last saw the show, when ex-pop idol Deborah Gibson was touring the US as the narrator. That said, I also didn’t want to pay £30 for a recycled production (more on that later.) Fortunately a few rows in the gods are sold for £15, and since I was at Friday’s Mathilde reading next door at the Vaudeville I figured it wouldn’t hurt to pop into the Adelphi and see if cheap seats were left. Fortunately they were, and it turned out that Lee Mead was in fact not on vacation (he was earlier in the week) so all of the leads were in.

Now, before I nitpick the production to bits, I want to get something out of the way: I had a great time and left with a much needed smile on my face. I wouldn’t tell people to see this Joseph if they were in London for a visit when there are more unique things running in the West End, but it’s a fun night for locals who may have held off until the hype subsided.

Now, as I said before, much of this production is recycled: the sets and costumes were both pulled out of storage following the Palladium run and subsequent tour (featuring Lizi Hateley, Jason Donovan, and Philip Schoenfeld) from the early 90’s. The direction and choreography are based on that production as well, though I’m sure that updates have been put in and the production generally refreshed.

Unfortunately said fresh outlook does not apply to Jenna Lee-James, who narrates the show with a powerhouse voice that can belt to kingdom come but lacks stage presence as a character. Word is that Lloyd Webber prefers it this way - that the narrator is a simple storyteller - but I really don’t. In most productions outside of the Lord’s grasp the Narrator is more involved, and while not active in the story, is someone clearly enjoying the ride. It’s the difference between saying “Look, Joseph is getting done in by his brothers” and “Look, this spoiled brat is being smacked down by the ensemble - isn’t it cool?” with a Willy Wonka-esque glint in the eye. This is a juicy role to play with relish and it’s wasted in London productions (FWIW I felt the same about Linzi Hateley on the 1991 London CD - great voice, sang it well, but she sounded so bored when compared to Kristine Fraelich on the 1995 US tour or Jodi Benson in the US in 1997 and Kristin Hölk on the German cast recording.)

Lee Mead, the reality show winner in the title role, does a fine job. If he doesn’t have Donny Osmond’s vocal flourishes it’s not for lack of talent or capacity, and I suspect he’d do more with the score if he were further away from London - this is one time where it’s OK not to sing the script if done with taste (unlike a certain show which comes to mind.) I also forgive him for sounding like a muppet at times - it's endearing bordering on adorable.

Dean Collinson is fine as the Elvis-impersonator Pharaoh, though I question his choice to throw in an unnecessary mild profanity (“Damn I’m good.”) Arguably it helps cement the show on the family side of “children’s show” vs. “family show” (the latter having a some mildly mature or risque material for mum and dad that the kids won’t get) but it doesn’t add anything - though neither does the new song “King of my Heart.” That said, I’d rather have “King” than yet another reprise of “Song of the King” which got two full reprises (meaning the song was sung in full three times in a row) during the early/mid 90’s productions.

Sadly I didn’t spot any standouts in the ensemble. So it goes.

It’s uncomfortable to be quite so negative in this review given that I enjoyed myself and am tempted to return to the production after the cast change, but in a way this is the curse of reviewing Shakespeare on a more populist and entertaining level: once you see a show a certain number of times (this was trip 8 or 9 to Joseph in addition to a stack of cast recordings and video clips) you start making comparisons. I’m not going to say people should run to the Adelphi, but I’d recommend bringing first timers to the theatre here instead of The Lion King..and maybe some jaded regulars as well: despite whatever cynicism and crass commercial work behind this run, the material has such an innocence and charm at its core that it’s hard not to be won over by the end of the night.

Where: Adelphi Theatre
When: M/W/Sa @ 19:30, Tu @ 19:00, W/Sa @ 15:00
How Much: £15-50, top price varies by night.
Concessions: Check with the box office.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £30. This’ll get you stalls any night at TKTS.
RZ Other Notes: I paid £15 for my ticket on the day and got back row centre of the upper circle. It’s vertically far from the stage but a clear, unrestricted view and a great bargain if you just want to see the show without shelling out top price (my dinner wound up costing more than my ticket.) As it turned out there were multiple rows empty and while the ushers held people to their original locations for the first act I was able to move from Row N to Row G at the interval.

On another note, the only show I’ve seen more times (and with more casts) than Joseph is RENT.

NOTES: “RENT”

2008-11-15T14:17:00.001Z

It turns out I know someone in the cast for this production, so doing a full review goes into iffy conflict of interest territory. A few notes though...

1) The production itself is something of a mixed bag. I love the set layout but it’s overcomplicated in that there’s some set dressing and a rollaway screen that requires downtime between songs to make a scene change, breaking up the flow. Ditto the use of video screens.

2) It’s very obvious that the director was influenced by the film, so you have strip club Out Tonight instead of Mimi at home Out Tonight.

3) There are 24 people in the cast vs. the original 15. Yes, amateur theatre is about getting people involved, but it left a lot of actors with nothing to do except occasionally wander around as the homeless people.

4) While each production should have its own original direction, this version made me appreciate certain aspects of Michael Grief’s staging even more, namely the initial burst of motion during the opening chords of the title song and the way everybody wandered back into the SOL line during the ICY Reprise leaving a space for Angel. This production was very low on movement and high on literalism, so everybody but Collins faced away from the audience while sitting on church pews. The setup also meant having to loop the SOL chords during the funeral lines while everything was set up.

5) I love Seasons of Love but that doesn’t mean we need to hear the chords as everybody enters at the top of Act One. That’s not in the show as written. We don’t need an encore either.

6) Voice Mail #4 (Alexi on the Beach) was moved up a position so that Without You takes place in September. I don’t really buy it, as the second act was structured to hop through seasons from Winter (HNY/TMOLM) -> Spring (Without You) -> Fall (Contact/GL/WYO) -> Winter (Finale). This takes six months out of the timeline.

7) Props to using the original orchestrations. The band aren’t loud enough, nor is the mixing quite right which, given the entire band are on electronic instruments, is a bad thing.

Despite my personal issues, however, this isn’t a bad production and it’s one that RENT fans should try and see before it closes next week. It’s obvious that everyone involved loves the show and you can see that everybody wants to be getting it right.

Where: Bridewell Theatre
When: 18/19/21/22 Nov. @ 19:30, 15/22 Nov. @ 15:00. Two charity performances as well.
How Much: £15 Unreserved
Concessions: £12
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No worth paying/Other here.

REVIEW: "Chav Scum Kills God"

2008-11-14T00:12:00.002Z

So while The Teenage Theatre Critic is off at the opera and the Royal Ballet I’m reviewing a play called Chav Scum Kills God. Just a touch of a difference.

And between you and me? I think I may have made the right choice.

The first full length play from Drew Davies, Chav Scum follows...well...a chav named Robert (Bradley Benjamin) as he wakes up in Hell, which resembles an empty waiting room. Greeted by the Other (Michael Lindall), a cross between a psych ward assistant and Kryten from Red Dwarf, Robert is informed that he died in a car crash while choking on his KFC. Fortunately, Hell is what you make of it: the only people put through severe torture are those who feel they deserve it. Likewise, there are chances to climb Hell’s social ladder as revealed by Robert’s father (Des Brittain) who is sleeping his way to the middle class via the great dictators. It all ends up with Robert proclaimed as the chosen one, destined to wear a time bomb necklace into Heaven and kill God in a blow for equality - after all, people in Heaven get better moisturiser.

Sound horrible? Amazingly it’s not, but I’m not claiming that it’s brilliant either.

The problems with the show lie with Robert and his father: the characters are utterly dull though Benjamin and Lindall work their best with what they’ve got. Likewise Sarah Alborn makes the most out of her one scene as Kathy (details involve plenty of spoilers) but she too falls into the “chav stereotypes are so 2006” category, and the ending may make its point but it’s dramatically unsatisfying.

Where Chav Scum shines (besides its brevity - the runtime is 90 min. including an interval of questionable value) is with the two characters running interference: the aforementioned Other has two incarnations - one for Hell and Heaven - and Lindall fills his time onstage with subtle movements gestures which are not only good for laughs but also enhance rather than detract from points where the Other is not the focus - think of Penny’s role in Hairspray during “I Can Hear The Bells” and the Madison sequence for a comparison.

The other character whom I dearly adored was Jonathan Hansler’s Lou, aka Satan as interpreted by George Carlin. It’s easy to see why people would follow this devil, as he oozes charm and straight talk while manipulating his surroundings.

To sum it up: Fun time, worth popping in, and short enough that if you like it you can leave after 40 minutes at the interval or stay for the whole time and still make it to the pub for multiple rounds after.

Where: Courtyard
When: Until 30 Nov., Tu-Su @ 19:30
How Much: £12.50
Concessions: £10, local residents with proof of address can get £5 tickets until the 16th
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10. Cheaper than a film at Leicester Square, but not quite good enough to justify the full price.
RZ Other Notes: This production is in the Courtyard’s studio which is a) warm, b) unreserved seating and c) not raked. Complicating matters is a concurrent run of Measure for Measure in the main house which, the night I went, looked to be loaded with school groups that crowd the limited waiting area. Fortunately Chav Scum lets out before Measure can even reach its interval.

REVIEW: "Linie 1" (Film DVD)

2008-11-07T14:30:00.003Z

Back in July I reviewed the long-running musical Linie 1 after a trip to Berlin. At the time the stage version had just come out on DVD, but getting a copy is difficult: one needs to either visit the GRIPS Theater in Berlin or order a copy directly. As the company doesn’t have the facilities to process credit cards, getting ahold of the disc outside of Germany is troublesome to say the least. Fortunately the 1988 film version has recently been released on mass market DVD after spending over a decade out of print on VHS.

In many ways the film is an easier watch than the stage disc: the movie runs barely 100 minutes (vs. the play’s 180+) which has greatly streamlined the rather messy plot. The film also offers the benefits of specialised casting: while most of the cast were in the original stage version, characters such as the Boy in the Raincoat (played here by Andreas Schmidt, most recently seen in The Counterfeiters) have been recast for age appropriateness whereas the stage DVD cast is full of ageing members about to finish their contracts. The songs also have a poppier and in some places stronger arrangement than on stage (e.g. Hey du.)

That’s about where the benefits end, though. A number of songs (including the haunting 6 Uhr 14 and the angsty Tag ich hasse dich has been replaced with the poppier In jeder Großstadt bin ich zu Haus) have been axed, and the design can only be described as bizarre: the film will spend ten minutes in a realist mode only to throw ticket inspectors to smoke filled tunnels or have policemen dancing for one shot of a song while chasing down a busker while moving normally otherwise. Scenes set outside of a train car or station hearken back to the 40’s with a combination of fake buildings and painted backdrops, and the film’s altered ending does nothing for the sake of clarity. It’s not bad like the RENT movie was, largely due to the continued input of the theatrical creators, but the aesthetic is jarring and may put viewers off the first time through.

The filmed Linie 1 also fails to tackle some of the play’s larger themes, such as urban anonymity: the Girl is given a proper name (Sunny) as is the Boy (Humphrey - three guesses as to why) and even though it’s a minor issue given the wholesale reduction of material, it takes away some of the magic and the grit. I’d need to pull out the stage DVD or the script books to check, but I suspect the play’s extensive use of Berlin dialect has been toned down, though it’s still present.

As far as the DVD itself is concerned, the film is presented in a 1.66 aspect ratio and is enhanced for anamorphic playback. The print has been newly telecined (with 4% PAL speedup) and remastered and the colours are nice and intense with no visible film damage and retains an appropriate amount of film grain. The audio track is straightforward 2.0 stereo encoded in Dolby Digital. As is annoyingly standard for German releases there are no subtitles, either in German for the hard of hearing or alternative languages for foreign viewers.

In terms of extras, there’s a 30 minute making of which is mostly talking head footage of Reinhard Hauff (director) and Eberhard Junkersdorf (producer). There’s some interesting discussion of how they adapted the material and some of the technical constraints (getting a real train car into the studio proved rather difficult), a photo gallery with some music, the original trailer, and direct links to the songs. The original press kit is also included as a rather nifty DVD-ROM extra.

Overall, Linie 1 the movie is a product of its era which hasn’t held up as well twenty years on as its inspiration, but it’s an accessible version of the work and is well worth the price (a scant €10 online - cheaper than the OCR) for those who are curious and is available from your German DVD merchant of choice including amazon.de.

THOUGHTS: “Confessions of Honour”

2008-11-06T17:01:00.001Z

Job applications, writing commitments, and the first cold of the season are keeping me from reviewing this in greater detail, but I did want to get a post up about Gerry Hinks’s Confessions of Honour to say....that I liked it. Quite a bit, in fact, but it ticks a lot of my boxes: history, good pacing, interesting subject, not being painfully obvious with how the twists go, quality acting, the list goes on and on. The only real qualm that I have is that at its core, this play is a two hander but there are four characters: the central Frederick Salisbury (Keith Minshull) and Wolfgang Meissler (author Hinks), as well as the Warrant Officer who occasionally pops her head in to mind them and the RSM who is only around for the beginning and the end. I can understand having a third character to frame the play’s events surrounding a Victoria Cross awardee returning his medal to the regiment, but another seems excessive.

Anyways, this is a play which falls squarely under the category of “nice” and “intimate” and while not a life changer, “a wonderful way to escape a nasty, rainy afternoon.” The London run is closed, but I believe there was one more short run following which may have a day or two left.

REVISITS: Come Dancing + Eurobeat

2008-11-04T19:35:00.001Z

When closing dates approach I generally try to revisit shows that I liked - especially if deals abound. Last week I had the opportunity to hit two shows which are sadly on the way out.

Come Dancing has really come together since previews. It’s still on the self-indulgent side, but it doesn’t feel weighed down by it anymore. Everything that needed to be tightened up has been, and the show is a wonderful little charmer that deserves to tour well and settle in at one of the West End’s smaller venues (I nominate the Duke of York’s) for a return engagement. There’s still a few days left for this one, and tickets are still available at Stratford East’s reasonable prices, so get there while you can.

I also made it to the closing of Eurobeat on Saturday. I’ve been utterly shameless in raving about this production, and this made it my fourth visit. The show is still hilarious even when you know what’s coming, and the hosts’ freedom to ad-lib (particularly about Andrew Sachs and Icelandic banks) helps to keep it fresh. The show really turned into a cult flop of sorts, as the first timers in the crowd were clearly overwhelmed by repeat visitors bringing full sized flags and going absolutely batshit insane. Most shows can only dream of the enthusiasm the crowd brought to this performance, and it’s sad to see it go - albeit not for too long, as continental tours are going up and a new edition of the show, complete with ten new songs, is in development for an opening next year in Australia. Good times await, as does a sad one as I try to find the time and money to make a fleeting return to Brief Encounter before the 16th...

REVIEW: "La Cage Aux Folles"

2008-11-03T21:30:00.001Z

So I got lazy and the official critics already have their reviews up. So instead of a proper review, have some ramblings...

La Cage is a show that most theatre geeks find to be a minefield subject. On the one hand, it was a breakout hit and one of the first mainstream musicals on Broadway to deal with the gay lifestyle. On the other, it was a surprise upset for the Tony, taking Best Musical over Sunday in the Park with George, which is a sore spot for Sondheim fans. I love Sunday - I think it’s absolutely brilliant. And yes, I also liked La Cage, which I saw for the first time about a week ago.

The new West End production is based on last Christmas’s run at the Menier Chocolate Factory, and while the sets have been scaled up to fit the Playhouse’s more generous proportions, the cast, orchestra, and general production values have remained smaller than in the original. And while I hadn’t seen the show before and wouldn’t have known better, my companion for the evening (one of the top names in London drag) was quite familiar with the show, having seen both the original (and prematurely closed) West End run not to mention numerous regional productions across the UK.

His opinion? This La Cage keeps it real. The smaller ensemble (six male cagelles vs. eight men and two women) is closer to what a real club would have, Tim Shortall’s costumes are more down to Earth than in past runs, and the emotions are genuine. Neither of us were particularly fond of Douglas Hodge as testy tranny Albin at the interval, but Mr. Hodge found his character’s depth by the start of the second act and improved by leaps and bounds as the back half played out. As the papers raved for him, I’d guess that his issues have been resolved.

Personally, I liked the balance at hand in this production: both the loving relationship between Albin and Georges (Denis Lawson) as well as the panic that strikes son Jean Michel (Stuart Neal) which drives the show’s action: the same dread that comes from introducing friends and partners to overly religious or tragically unhip parents is instantly recognisable and though it’s devastating for Albin the audience are likely to understand the character’s motivation, passing off the character as more than a mere caricature.

So yeah. Believe the hype with this one: this is a high energy production (how else can 165 minutes fly by so fast?) but one which leaves the audience comfortably warm by the end. The fall season only has one big musical left (Imagine This, which won’t be covered here due to a paid review commission) so if you’re looking for a big, traditional West End fix or you want something romantic to replace the soon-to-close Brief Encounter, you owe it to yourself catch La Cage aux Folles while you can.

Where: Playhouse Theatre
When: Until 10 Jan., M-Sa @ 19:30, Th/Sa @ 14:30. Varies Xmas/New Year’s
How Much: £17.50-£55 (£57.50 for cabaret table seating - prepare to crane your neck.)
Concessions: Day seats available, check with the box office.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £45 - The best thing to hit the West End in a while, but doesn’t quite come together enough for the top price.
RZ Other Notes: Rumour is that if sales are high the producers are planning to extend the run and bring in Graham Norton to play Albin. Take it with a rock of salt but so far there’s nothing announced yet to follow....

REVIEW: Dracula

2008-10-31T22:25:00.002Z

Vampire musicals have something of a curse on them: namely that they tend to do the sorts of things that vampires would do if they existed: bite and suck. While there is one shining example hovering above the rest, Alex Loveless’s new adaptation of Bram Stoker’s defining novel isn’t it. What Loveless, Loveless (Liz, extra lyrics), & Loveless (Chris, director) give us instead is a tick-box list of how not to handle vampires in yet another version of Dracula.

See, a good vampire story is sexy. The whole lure of the forbidden and abandonment of morality in the face of a challenge to Good Christian Living stems from Stoker and it’s not here: Leigh Jones has presence as the legendary Count, but sexy? Nope. The female cast are so buttoned up that the Transylvanian may as well go back to planet Transsexual if he wants a chance of getting any. As much as Ann Rice’s prose may leave something to be desired and Elton John’s score was lacking, the duo delivered sexiness in abundance in Lestat.

Alternatively, a good vampire story is scary. The old Bela Lugosi films have lost much of their scare factor after decades of video nasties, but seventy-five years ago they were terrifying. The only scary thing about this musical was coming back for the second act.

On the other hand, you can go for spectacle: while Frank Wildhorn’s Dracula (which shares numerous book quotes with this one) also received a critical drubbing for its bore-factor it featured a top notch cast and Des McAnuff’s flair for the visual.

The LovelessX3 show has...no sex, no scare, and no budget. It also has no point (the scenes with Renfield go nowhere and amount to nothing,) no memorable songs, no choreography, and no wit. To that extent it does have the last trait of the Vampire: sin. To bore the audience to sleep (or an interval departure) is the greatest sin a creator can commit, and the night I went there was programme checking, nodding off, and interval departures in abundance.

In short, the [title of show] team say it best: DIE VAMPIRE, DIE!

Where: White Bear Theatre
When: Until 23 Nov., Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 17:00
How Much: £12 unreserved
Concessions: £10
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £0. Stay home and take a nap or rent any of Hollywood’s better efforts. Or you could listen to....
RZ Other Notes: The greatest vampire musical of all time? Tanz der Vampire. Not the version Michael Crawford stunk up on Broadway but the original Austro-German edition which is scary, witty, sexy, and stunning.

REVIEW: "So Jest End"

2008-10-28T15:09:00.002Z

(Second of two reviews today, see below for a quickie catch-up post.)

London’s history with the Forbidden Broadway franchise is an iffy one. Despite running for over twenty years across a variety of New York locations, all three attempts at bringing the sharp witted parody property to London have been met with short, unprofitable runs. Recently, a local alternative has been in development, running first a few months ago and now in a one-weekend-a-month engagement at the Leicester Square. So Jest End (formerly Jest End and Fraudway) attempts to rework the winning formula for the West End, but it comes up empty and unimpressive instead.

The fault lies in getting what makes Forbidden Broadway funny: While Forbidden’s jokes tend to tread the same themes, the show is kept religiously up to date (barring the occasional throwback to the classic diva and the infamous Annie skit) and the show chooses its targets well: the dumbing down of Broadway, plots of hit shows, eccentric divas, and new trends. Creator Gerard Alessandrini also keeps his jokes wide enough that innocent tourists wandering in on a half price ticket stay entertained even if they haven’t seen everything on the boards.

And this is where So Jest End fails. Despite being billed as an update and featuring new songs, much of the material is out of date: there are still bits from Mary Poppins (gone six months) and Footloose (closed a year ago), shows with no official plans for the West End (Little Mermaid), and Gone With The Wind jokes (again, gone for months and no longer funny). Instead of looking at the state of the West End or even some of the biggest shows (no Hairspray, Dirty Dancing, or Joseph bits), the popular themes are reality TV (a full two song bit dedicated to the upcoming Oliver and multiple references elsewhere) and the low state of actor pay (constant mentions plus a full song about how Phantom uses alternates). There’s enough to chuckle one’s way through it, but the material lacks fangs and fire which makes it hard for the cast (all very talented and flexible) to land the serious jokes. Only the Les Miserables bit about the hell of lasting a year in the cast managed to score constant big laughs, and even so it just doesn’t hit as hard as Forbidden Broadway’s “Ten Years More.”

While it’s good to see those involved in the West End finding humour in its flaws, So Jest End is very much an insider’s show and mere fans (or even industry people who aren't actors) are likely to find themselves lost, bored, or underwhelmed. While the show will undoubtedly get better over the years and various iterations, it’s just not there enough yet to justify even its Fringe-level ticket cost or the risk of not being able to get home (see below for more).

Where: Leicester Square Theatre (Basement)
When: 14/15 Nov, 19/20 Dec @ 23:00
How Much: £15 General Admission
Concessions: None
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £5. It’s strictly amateur night.
RZ Other Notes: Hoo boy, where to begin. First, go to this with friends. I made the mistake of going alone and was the only person NOT attending with at least six companions who knew the people in every other group at the venue. Second, get seats at the tables if you can - the back row seats may be more comfortable but there’s no rake so they’re slightly obstructed and the people next to you *will* fidget and elbow you repeatedly as they move around attempting to see what’s going on.

Third, be forewarned that securing transport after the show is at your own risk. While most bus lines are still in operation at 00:15, and while the Northern Line hasn’t OFFICIALLY run its final trains, Leicester Square station was thoroughly gated off and locked up when the Saturday show let out, as was Tottenham Court Road. Patrons looking to catch the underground home may have better luck at Charing Cross, but I wound up getting lucky and catching the next to last train out of Goodge Street instead. Should you not live conveniently on the Northern Line, work out your bus route in advance or plan to budget on catching a cab as you will not be able to transfer to another underground line.

CATCHING UP: The Plague of Laziness...

2008-10-28T14:33:00.001Z

Well, not so much laziness this time as business. MCM Expo, non-writing commitments, and more job hunting hell. And yeah, some laziness too. Do not expect good writing this time, just some notes. A full review for one show, however, will follow.

The White Devil @ Menier Chocolate Factory: I don’t generally go for plays written during the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras, but I missed the highly acclaimed Revenger’s Tragedy earlier this year at the National, and this seemed like a good way to see some of the period’s work that isn’t Shakespeare. While I’m still not a big fan of the language and convention of the times, I still found The White Devil an interesting play full of horrible people doing rotten things and enjoying it more than I’d expected. Director Jonathan Munby manages (mostly) to safely clear the minefield of traverse staging by giving the piece a claustrophobic setting, but the nature of the beast means that everybody will spend at least one major scene staring at the back of the action. I think the cast had a few repeat performers from the MCF’s recent production of The Common Pursuit as well. It’s worth checking out on a meal deal price or with a discount.

The Picture of Dorian Gray @ Tabard Theatre: Props to Kangaroo Court for working their juxtaposition of Wilde’s classic tale of beauty in evil and the age of celebrity. This new adaptation revels in its modernity while maintaining the feel of Wilde’s original. The only problem with the piece is that it’s a musical, and while I love the form, it’s entirely unnecessary here: the show would work just as well as a straight play, largely because the songs are sung by the nameless chorus (Megan Pugh and David Templeman, neither of whom are particularly impressive singers) who spend most of the show moving scenery. I honestly wouldn’t have had a problem with this show being a 60 minute straight play vs. a 90 minute musical, and the opportunity to have, say, paired it with another one-act seems wasted. Neil McCurley has, however, struck gold by using projections to reflect the increasingly warped nature of Dorian’s portrait though the cues ran late the night I saw the show.

REVIEW: “Rue Magique”

2008-10-22T15:47:00.004+01:00

(Because some anonymous will undoubtedly bitch and moan that this is coming off of a first preview, let’s get a key fact out of the way: tickets are being sold at FULL PRICE during the preview period. That’s £20-25 for the fringe for a technically unfrozen show. Complain to those responsible for THOSE ethics before complaining about a member of the public rambling on the internet. With that taken care of...)

Ladies and gentlemen, the trainwreck express is now pulling in at the King's Head.

Because Riflemind wasn’t enough of a disaster - because Imagine This actually has good word of mouth coming in from out of town - because someone has extra money to throw around (and to those people, I will be happy to work for you vetting funding requests) there’s Rue Magique, currently previewing and soon to open at the Kings Head. And despite nine years in development, Rue Magique is a show that musical disaster fans will be talking about for years.

As the show is still in previews, I’m going to give the standard free passes: the hard working cast give it their absolute all here, especially Melanie LaBarrie as conflicted madame Desdemona and newcomer Nadia Di Mambro as the sweet voiced Sugar and despite the flaws in her book, Lisa Forrell’s direction gets the right stuff out of her cast. Any flaws with the acting or staging will undoubtedly be fixed by the end of previews.

Now for the carnage.

Rue Magique claims to be based on true stories, and while I have no doubt that such tragedy exists in real life, it’s a questionable area to be taking a musical. The plot here revolves around creole Desdemona, a demanding, game boy addict of an agoraphobic madame who runs a brothel in south London. She has three full timers: a British crack whore, a Jamaican dreaming of opening a nail salon, and a Latvian with iffy English who spends more of her time fulfilling Desdemona’s OCD cleaning demands than landing clients - aka vipers.

The show opens with a song about the run down area, the homeless, and the fierceness required to survive. The customers fight over the women (an early song talks about the air being rife with the smell of lubrication - rhymed with sexual frustration), and Desdemona lays down the rules, lording over her tiny domain. When daughter Sugar - it’s her thirteenth birthday today (despite looking 20) - gives her mother’s snacks to a homeless man, she’s sent out for more and talks to shop boy Rem (who’s 17 but looks 25) who offers to teach her kickboxing (to the tune of a drum machine backed song called “Flex”) as a way of chatting her up. Sugar then goes home and Desdemona informs her that she’s now old enough to start servicing the customers. Sugar sings a tender ballad proclaiming her dreams of a magic birthday party surrounded by a loving family (her father is AWOL), and she performs the last chorus while her head hangs off a table as she’s raped by a rather large man.

I’m going to repeat that bit because it’s a true Springtime for Hitler moment come to life. 13 year old Sugar sings the end of her “I Want” song as she’s being raped by a fattie. It’s not even shocking and edgy because di Mambro looks so much older, but it’s tasteless in the same way that The Blonde in the Thunderbird was tasteless when Suzanne Sommers sang “If I Only Had A Brain” as the voice representing her father boomed abuse.

The show goes all downhill from there. Rem sings to Sugar that not all men are evil, she turns against Desdemona and tries living on the street under the sometimes-watchful eye of the homeless man from the opening, it’s revealed that Rem is one of Desdemona’s old clients, and he eventually persuades the domineering mother to confront her past and reveal her daughter’s origins. I would think the right thing for Rem to do would be putting in a call to social services, but that doesn’t make for a good ending and the reveal comes too late in the second act for such an integration to play out in a way that resolves the mother-daughter tension. Of course, the actual ending isn’t so great either: Desdemona frees her daughter from sexual slavery, but only for tonight because it’s her birthday and she’s expected back at work tomorrow.

I wish I could be more positive about this show coming into town. Despite the squick factor of the characters’ ages (I’d believe it more if they were, say, 15 and 18 or 15 and 20), Forrell’s book does manage to hit most of the right emotional notes, but it’s undermined by Brett Kahr’s songs and their truly dreadful lyrics. Outside of two or three big numbers (the act one face-off between Desdemona and Sugar, the title song sung in Creole, and a comic relief number in the second act by three vipers), the lyrics are jaw-droppingly bad which is a shame because the melodies are nice though a bit bland.

If it were up to me to fix things up, I'd keep Lahr's melodies but bring in another lyricist. I’d also cut the interval and the second act opener (an extended comic song about keeping the house clean - like the aforementioned dream song) to keep the tension high. Likewise I'd try to clean up the some of loose ends and tighten up the character arcs: why does Sugar dream of the West End if she can only leave the house to buy groceries? Does Rem actually know about kickboxing and if so why not have him actually teach Sugar so that she can physically take care of herself by the act one conflict and come across as a real threat?

In the end, Rue Magique is sort of like a prostitute’s Annie crossed with BKLYN, except without the wealthy payoff. At this point, it's not even mock-musical East Hastings from the last series of Slings & Arrows. And yes, when going into the theatre I was thinking of this line from [title of show]: “When Bock and Harnick were writing Tenderloin / they were taking a risk to write a show about whores.” While I’m not sure if Rue Magique can be 100 people’s ninth favourite thing or not, but it may manage to become nine people’s favourite regardless of its flaws.

Where: Kings Head
When: Until 7 December, Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Sa/Su @ 15:30
How Much: £20 (Unreserved)/£25 (Reserved)
Concessions: £17.50. If you hold your ground you can try and get a discount on previews but there is no official discount.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12.50 because the trainwreck value is that good.
RZ Other Notes: I think I spent about half of the show with my jaw agape from just how ridiculous things played out on stage. Also, I rag on the lyrics quite a bit so I should include some examples:
“Prepare yourself for explosive sex / but no, nothing risky / and she don’t take credit cards or personal cheques.” (this is from a song that's not supposed to be funny - and if it was, the crowd weren't laughing very much)
“When you’re threatened by a junkie / strike a pose and look real funky!”
“When the crop is ripe / put it in your pipe / all the whores become madonnas”
“He’s brave and bold / his bum is very cute / some day he may be mine”
“You must submit / you piece of shit!”
“To reclaim your self-respect / with strong detergent we disinfect”
“If there is soap / then there is hope”
“And so I sit with with my well thumbed pornographic magazine with pages stuck together”

REVIEW: "Shit Mix"

2008-10-21T16:10:00.003+01:00

Before I go any further with this review, let’s get the formalities out of the way. Shit Mix is not a bad play, and I commend Leo Richardson for getting his first work this far.*

But does it really belong in the West End? Even at groovy funky Trafalgar Studios? No. No, it really doesn’t. Shit Mix (a slang term for what we yanks call a suicide cocktail) is a strictly by the book tick-box example of derivative youth theatre, and while it would be at home on the Oval House or Almeida’s (excellent) programmes for youth targeted works and audiences, it fails completely at reaching the teenage audience it so desperately seeks here. I saw this play on a Saturday night and I’d guess that a third of the audience were under 30. I was too lazy to try (and it’s increasingly hard to be certain), but I’m pretty sure I could have counted the actual under 18’s without needing to go past my figurative fingers. Of course, ticket prices are higher on weekends, but concession rates are the same, so I stand by my argument.

Onto the play itself. Wannabe chav LB has the hots for gothiloli Raggedy Anne but they’re too shy to tell each other. Obviously closeted friend Bent Ben is a go-between keeping everybody happy but he secretly fancies LB’s older brother Harry the Hottie who has a BIG SECRET. It’s the same BIG SECRET that you get in most teen plays so no points for guessing. Of course slutty girl Dirty Debbie fancies Harry as well but settles for prostituting herself to LB for £6.50 and a plate of chips.** In between these escapades everybody meets in the park, consumes mass quantities of alcohol, screws around, and substitutes internal monologues for interpretative dance. It’s a nice gimmick, and combined with Samantha Potter’s direction keeps the show moving along, but the upbeat choreographed curtain call set to the title song from Dreamgirls is unnecessary and contradicts the more downbeat ending.

All in all, I’m not really sure what the point of Shit Mix’s current run is. Teens aren’t going (it’s cheaper and hipper to get a DVD from Blockbuster) and there’s nothing in it for adults who aren’t nostalgic for a miserable time in most peoples’ lives or trying to understand “those darn kids today.” I suppose it’s all rather hypocritical of me to be saying this as well - I’m not that old, and I loved Dog Sees God (which recently ran in Manchester, though I saw the Off Broadway run) which covers almost identical territory but at least had the twist of subversively filtering its cliches through beloved childhood icons. With a veritable flood of exceptional productions running in the city right now, it seems a waste for grownups to go and see this.

*This is the internet, not a family friendly newspaper, so no, I'm not giving in to using asterisks.
**I wish I were making up these names and events, but they are in fact real parts of the show. The names are even displayed in the form of back-lit pop art.

Where: Trafalgar Studios 2
When: Until 25 October, M-Sa @ 19:45
How Much: £15 M/Th(Mat)/Sa(Mat), £22.50 all other performances
Concessions: £15
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £10. Fringe price for a fringe show and what you’ll pay for less-choice performance times at TKTS.
RZ Other Notes: For those wishing to be spoiled, the tick boxes here are: popular kid, closeted gay, suicide, goth kid, slut, drugs, boozing, party life, dissolving friendships, pop culture references, character fails at their art, the bad kid, no visible adults, scuffy costumes, generic “this could be anywhere” setting, profanity, big central event. Now, am I talking about Shit Mix, Dog Sees God, or this week’s runs of Neighbours and Hollyoaks?

Catching Up: Four More...

2008-10-18T17:04:00.002+01:00

As the RZ finds his will to live (or at least his will to make an effort on projects that don’t pay) sapped by job hunting hell, his posts are likely to be sporadic and minimal unless he finds something reaaaaaaalllllllly interesting to post about - like some recent things in the Graduion blog. But that’s another post.

After all, you’re here for reviews. And the RZ has been very, very lazy lately with posting those. So, without further ado, here’s four quick bites before running off to see Shit Mix tonight...

A Patriot For Me @ New Players - Solid production of a rarely-performed John “Look Back in Anger” Osborne play. Big cast, interesting historical subject (gay officer in the late-Habsburg Austrian army succumbing to blackmail), but the second act drags (literally and figuratively) and everybody is so damn smug that it detracts from the tension. That said, it’s never boring even it does meander. See it if you’ve got a free night.

A Skull in Connemara @ White Bear - Either you love Martin McDonagh or you loathe him, as his plays (excepting The Pillowman) tend to follow a similar formula. The RZ loves McDonagh’s works, and the sharp, witty writing in Skull makes for a short, biting play that’s paired with creative design in the White Bear’s space.

Hans Teeuwen (Comedian) - The RZ saw Mr. Teeuwen at BAC doing a gig in anticipation of his upcoming run at the Leicester Square, and found his act hit or miss. It’s much closer to German Kabarett than what most people would expect from Anglo-American stand-up. The press have made favourable comparisons to Eddie Izzard (who the RZ is not fond of as a stand-up) though a cross between Izzard and Bill Bailey would be more accurate since Teeuwen sings as well. Teeuwen’s act jumps from biting material on FGM freedom of speech to absurdist skits (some of which go on far too long) and songs with the mandatory use of dick jokes to break up the bits. Good at BAC prices, not so much for the West End.

Betwixt! in Concert - It’s hard to say a lot about this as 1)it’s a charity gig and therefore hard to rag on regardless and 2)other than some song rehearsals the whole thing only had 24 hours to rehearse as a whole. The show is still great, there have been a few revisions (including one song getting slightly repositioned), and word on the street is that Off-Broadway is the next stop for this charming piece.

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 And now we’re all caught up. Just in time for four shows in the next week...

Catching Up: “Spyski”/“That Moment”

2008-10-10T17:33:00.002+01:00

(Two very quick ones to prevent getting even further behind before another show tonight)

If The 39 Steps is your idea of a good time, you will love Spyski. A comedic espionage thriller of the smart-stupid variety, company Peepolykus (pronounced people like us..and they sure do) have created a wacky adventure framed within and set against Wilde’s classic The Importance of Being Earnest. Though slapstick heavy and full of groaners, the cleverness required to make it all work both on its own terms and the audiences is truly amazing, for how often do you really get actors suck tracking down genetically modified Russians being left in handbags at Victoria Station for MI5 operatives to collect at Cockfosters? It’s zany, family friendly fun (though not for the pre-PG film crowd) and cheap tickets are everywhere.

For the unemployed actor in all of us, the Kings Head just wrapped up a two week lunchtime run run of Dougie Blaxland’s That Moment, a solo piece starring Jenny Harold as out of work actress Alicia who somehow ends up dating a two-timing passive aggressive depressed playwright while dogsitting for a famous director. It sounds naff, but it’s an engaging, blissfully quick hour, and people in (or close to) the business will recognise references and landmarks instantly. That said, why did they bother setting up a series of not that frequently (or well) used TVs to project the occasional still image? It seems a total waste.

Spyski
Where: Lyric Hammersmith
When: Until 1 November. M-Sa @ 19:30
How Much: £10-£27
Concessions: Check the Lyric’s website because they’re abundant.
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £18. Fun and funny but not a long time memorable gig.
RZ Other Notes: Tours after the Lyric run.

That Moment
Where: Kings Head
When: Closed.
How Much: £7 Unrserved
Concessions: £5
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £7. Come on, it’s less than the cost of lunch.
RZ Other Notes: None!

REVIEW: "The Witches of Eastwick" (UK Tour)

2008-10-08T22:25:00.002+01:00

(Still catching up, two shows behind now, two more on this week's theatregoing agenda. To a certain author/composer who posted a comment recently, the RZ is trying to get his hands on your concept album so he can have a listen and reply appropriately.)

Well, the RZ saw The Witches of Eastwick for the first time on Friday night in Wimbledon. It was a pleasant evening, and he has to say that he left the theatre with songs such as “Words Words Words” and “Dance with the Devil” stuck in his head where they've remained through writing this review. So far, so good right? Right.

But may he be bold enough to offer those responsible a piece of unsolicited advice about the show? Yes? Good.

Stop changing it. Seriously. Because you see, while the RZ, a new visitor to Eastwick, had a decent enough time - as did a friend’s companion for the evening - my friend himself (and it appears many visitors on the UK message boards) did not. Pleasant memories of the prior two London productions run rife through the community here, and the endless revisionism this show has undergone is starting to hurt more than help.* After a while it reaches a point where one has to just sit and wonder “why?” If they’re so unhappy with the show, why has it had multiple commercial productions in the past (when it should have perhaps stayed in workshop?) and why not just walk away and move on to new work that can be better than the last one? Because eventually there will be so much editing and rewriting that you wind up with Starlight Express syndrome: a hodgepodge of ideas and revisions that no longer functions as a coherent, cohesive show that loses the charm and appeal of the original work.

Needless to say, the mantra that comes to the RZ’s mind is “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” and it seems that audience members the RZ has spoken to feel that the older versions weren’t broken, which is a shame as the current version certainly is. Going into details (vs. making a metacritical statement) requires more familiarity with the material than this author has.

How so, you ask? Well, there’s something missing now, particularly in the second act. It’s hard to describe the sensation, but at times it felt like the show was in the background or like watching other people enjoying the show (like watching friends play video games). It’s not that the RZ was bored, more that he felt disconnected in a rather off-putting way - and last he checked, this is not a show that aims for Brechtian alienation.

And then there’s the mixed messages: is this a show about the power of sisterhood? How about that men are scum? Or is it meant to be a misogynistic piece about the two-faced and manipulative nature of women who, as a result, deserve to be manipulated by the men around them? The show in its current form touches on all three, while (according to Wikipedia anyways) the film version leans towards the first option, which is likely why people find it endearing. The RZ will, however, point out that the show’s accusatory opinions of small town American are entirely accurate.

Anyhow, putting the textual problems aside, on to the current production: designer Peter Mckintosh has gone for a look straight out of Archie comics with cartoony houses and pastel coloured costumes. It works, but the RZ wonders if something with a more realist approach wouldn’t have served the material and the fantastical aspects better.

Cast-wise, Rebecca Thornhill reprises the role of Sukie Rougemont from the London transfer production, but the RZ found her performance - like most of the cast’s - to be on the unmemorable side. The cast weren’t bad but there was a lack of stage presence all around, possibly due to catching an 8:30 show which followed a 5:00 matinee.** Pop star Marti Pellow did stand out however, but not in a particularly attractive manner: his voice is higher than the RZ expected for Daryl, and he plays the character as so immature that when he expresses his desire for children to the trio of witches, it’s impossible to understand why. And while he certainly came off with more charisma than most of the cast, it just wasn’t enough to really impress.

As the RZ said above, he found The Witches of Eastwick pleasant, but this production lacks punch. Those who haven’t seen the show before could do far worse than to catch the tour if it’s coming nearby, but previous Witches fans may find themselves disappointed.

*The current UK tour is the fifth edition of the show, the previous editions being the original Drury Lane production, the transfer to the Prince of Wales (rev1), the Australian production (rev2), the Washington DC area production (rev3), and now this tour (rev4). Even The Scarlet Pimpernel only has four official versions.

**For those unfamiliar with UK scheduling, some shows opt to have a late double on Friday which allows an after-school family or after-work crowd to go to the theatre before dinner/clubbing/whatever. In this case, the first performance was at 5PM and the second at 8:30. Witches ran around 2:50 with an interval, meaning that the cast effectively had their half hour call as soon as the curtain went down from the early show.

Where: Touring. Seen at the New Wimbledon.
When: Until 9 May 2009
How Much: Varies by venue
Concessions: Varies by venue
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £15. Discounts are out there if you know where to look.
RZ Other Notes: This may be the longest review in recent memory.

THOUGHTS: Roy Walker/Goodbye Mr. Chips

2008-10-07T17:27:00.000+01:00

(Second review in a day. Check your feeds/read below for the RZ’s thoughts of A Tale of Two Cities at the Gatehouse.)

There’s a long and often painful history of comedians who become game show hosts - and game show hosts becoming comedians. When you think about it, the skill set overlaps quite a bit: the need to make one-liners, dealing with hecklers, higher than average charisma stats, and so on. Add to that the associations audiences make between a game show and its host (let’s face it, The Price is Right is nothing now that Rod Roddy and Bob Barker are gone and the less said about the syndicated version of The Weakest Link without Anne Robinson the better), and it’s the perfect place for a solo entertainer looking for a steady income to be.

So here comes Roy Walker, long time host of UK game show Catchphrase. The RZ never saw this show in the US, nor has he seen reruns in the UK as he sadly doesn’t get the Challenge network (and if he did he’d have it just to watch Richard O’Brien terrorise the contestants on The Crystal Maze), but taking in this evening seemed like a cultural endeavour worth pursuing.

To keep it short (as the show was - about 50-55 min.), the show is about half biography (punctuated with ancient material from Walker’s comedic past and the dusty joke books) and half “you’ll expect me to spout bits from Catchphrase so let’s have fun.” The RZ smiled through most of it and Walker’s an endearing fellow with a cider drinker’s red cheeks and a Belfast brogue, but that’s sadly where it ended: pleasant, but not powerful and sweet, not sharp.

(One-off evening, prices and dates will vary with future productions.)

THOUGHTS: "A Tale of Two Cities"

2008-10-07T16:24:00.003+01:00

(When the backlog gets big, the RZ gets to the point.)

No, the RZ hasn't made a journey to see the critically-slammed megamusical currently running on Broadway. This OTHER version of the classic novel, running at Upstairs at the Gatehouse, is the brainchild of David Pomeranz (score), Steven David Horwich (Book/Lyrics) and David “I wrote the part of Time everybody hated” Soames (Book) manages to do what the big bad Broadway edition couldn’t: condense Dickens’s epic into a svelte 2:40 (with interval) without sacrificing characterisation or major events in the plot.

Director and co-producer Paul Nicholas has brought together an excellent and experienced cast (no fresh faced pre-drama schoolers here like the upcoming cast of Spring Awakening), and in this case things do get better with age: they sell the show marvellously. While the occasionally clunky line shows up in the text, it doesn’t get in the way, and Pomeranz has supplied a chamber score much like that of Marguerite’s: pretty but same-y and ultimately unmemorable, reproduced here on two pianos. Sound tech (no sound designer is credited) Andy Evans has gone above and beyond the call of duty to provide a wonderful mix which, given the large cast and small space, is no easy task. Mike Lee’s costumes are lovely to stare at and his set design is clean and simple.

In short?

Sometimes smaller is better, and this intimate production is worth checking out. The RZ would not be surprised were it to have a lovely future ahead. There’s a gem of a show here, and with some polishing it can become brilliant.

Where: Upstairs at the Gatehouse
When: Until 2 Nov. Tu-Sa @ 19:30, Su @ 16:00
How Much: £12/£15 (All but Sat/Sat). Unreserved seating.
Concessions: £10/12
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RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £12. Lush costume drama, big cast, and not boring.
RZ Other Notes: Those close to the RZ will appreciate the difficulty he had in actually reviewing this production at all. Not that getting to the show was hard or that he had massive laziness to overcome, but there are other “issues” which made it a bit of a sticky subject.

PRESS RELEASE: CHAV SCUM KILLS GOD

2008-10-02T21:42:00.000+01:00

The Infamists presents

CHAV SCUM KILLS GOD

A new play written and directed by Drew Davies

Venue: The Courtyard (Studio Theatre), Bowling Green Walk, 40 Pitfield Street, N1 6EU

Dates: Tues 11^th November - Sun 30^th November

Times: 7.30pm.

Running time: 90 minutes with an intermission

Box Office: 0870 163 0717 / www.seetickets.com

Ticket enquiries: 020 7729 2202 (6.30pm - 9.30pm Tues - Sun only) / tickets@thecourtyard.org.uk

Tickets: £12.50 / £10

Press Night: Weds 12^th November

One man and one man alone has been chosen to rescue Hell from great tyranny. His name? Chaverston Robert Scumthorpe Jnr. Petty criminal. Pit-bull breeder. And, how can we put this …chav! Now Robert must journey to the heights of Heaven, meet with the Almighty, conquer his own (and many other people's) demons and save the afterlife before time runs out. Our future is in his hands. God help us all…

When Chaverston Robert Scumthorpe Jnr wakes up dead, he can't imagine his day getting any worse. He's left everything behind him; his girlfriend Kathy, his dreams of finishing Grand Theft Auto 3 and any chance of living a good and decent life. That is, until Robert discovers he's in Hell.

After re-uniting with his careerist father, Robert is unwittingly enlisted as a suicide bomber and sent off to free the citizens of Hades by blowing up their greatest oppressor, God. His journey takes him through Purgatory, where Robert befriends Lou, a burnt out hippy with a penchant for card games, before confronting him with the Lord Almighty Himself who, as it happens, is his recently deceased girlfriend Kathy...

With fresh insight into the workings of the Universe (and a LCD ticker still strapped around his middle counting down to detonation), Robert must face up to his feelings on love, his scheming father, the Dark Prince of Evil and - most worryingly of all - the rest of his Afterlife.

Broad, scurrilous and unashamedly fun, CHAV SCUM KILLS GOD takes a wry look at modern life in England and skews terrorism, National pride, the ASBO underclass and (ultimately) death while ensuring the theological debate stays firmly within human proportions.

Drew Davies (Writer/Director)

Drew Davies was born in London in 1979 and later moved to New Zealand when he attended Auckland’s UNITEC School of Performing and Screen Arts (BPSA majoring in Acting). Drew worked extensively in television as an actor before winning the New Zealand Playmarket Young Playwright of the Year Award for his one-act play ‘Swirl’ in 2000.

Returning to London in 2001, Drew’s work includes the radio play ‘On The Up’ (2004), and ‘Fear of Projection’ (2008, writer/director/actor) which premiered at this year’s Brighton Festival Fringe before a successful three week run at this year’s Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

CHAV SCUM KILLS GOD is his first full length play.

CAST

Bradley Benjamin (Robert)

Since Bradley graduated from The Academy Drama School in 2006 he has performed in “King Lear” and 'Hound of The Baskervilles'. His work in short films; music videos and TV make him a versatile actor especially suited to character roles. "I think the word CHAV has become almost ecumenical, although we probably hate to admit it there is a little bit of Robert in all of us"

Michael Lindall (The Other)

Michael trained at the Drama Studio London before making his professional debut in the acclaimed play 'The Irish Curse' at The Edinburgh Festival 2006, reprising his role in the same production in May 2007 at the Dublin Arts Festival. His work in theatre includes: Gabriel in 'Gabriel', Astrov in 'Uncle Vanya', Simon in 'Hayfever', and Romeo in 'Romeo and Juliet' at the RSC Dell open air Theatre in Stratford. His work on film includes 'Spoon', 'Once I Was' and 'Blood Related' (which he also wrote and produced).

Des Brittain (Rob Senior)

Des began his acting career in Melbourne and Sidney (Australia). Des has appeared in a number of recent productions in London including, "Money from America" at the Broadway Theatre, Catford. He has performed in Alan Ackebourn's "A Woman in Mind", Jimmy Chinn's "Colours of Time”, and the Irish hangman in "Our Country's Good" by Timberlake Wertenbaker.

Jonathan Hansler (Lou)

Jonathan’s recent stage work includes playing Peter Cook (in the play he co-wrote and produced) "Goodbye - The After Life Of Cook and Moore" at the Gilded Balloon in Edinburgh, Neil Callaghan in "Maggie End" and Peter Cook again in "Pete 'n' Me" at the New End Theatre.
His television work includes "Hotel Babylon", "Dream Team”,” My Family" and "The Queens Sister”. He is part of double act Teakshow and runs Comedy at the Private Eye Dining Rooms in Soho.

Sarah Alborn (Kathy/God)

Originally from Leicester, Sarah graduated from Birmingham School of Acting in 2006. Her theatre credits include Anitra in “Peer Gynt” at the Hackney Empire, Sybil Chase in “Private Lives” at the Marie Bjornson Open Air Theatre and Julie in “Save Your Kisses for Me” at the Barons Court Theatre.