A Gypsy, a Solider and a Donkey in Carmen - at the ROH.

Georges Bizet’s Carmen is a much loved and highly emotive tale, whose score is so recognisable that it transcends the opera itself - with popular arias such as the Habanera and theTorreador which are firmly rooted in societies collective consciousness. Bizet’s seminal piece is the second most performed work in The Royal Opera’s repertoire. First staged in 2006, Francesca Zambello’s version of Carmen is currently being revived for the sixth time. Anita Rachvelishvili reprises her role as the wild and fiery Carmen, a gypsy whose sensual and seductive nature entrances all that meet her. Solider Don José (Roberto Alagna), is instantly spellbound by her charms and consumed by passion.Willing to sacrifice his freedom, rank and ultimately his dignity in his quest to capture Carmen’s unobtainable heart. 

Although performed in French, (with English translations projected on a screen suspended from the proscenium arch), the cultural heart of Carmen is undisputedly Spanish. Andalusia is instantly evoked by the terracotta walls, and the small orange tree positioned centre stage. Seville’s strong cultural identity is intensified when the rowdy Gypsies burst onto the stage, as a argument between Carmen and her fellow tobacco factory worker spills out into the main plaza. Upon being arrested, Carmen tricks Don José into setting her free, and thus establishing the reoccurring motif of Carmen manipulating  the besotted solider’s emotions for her own personal gain. Personally, I found the transition from Act I and Act II slow and cumbersome. However, once the stage had finally been transformed into Lillas Pastia’s traditional Spanish tavern, the joie de vivre created by their rapid flamenco footwork coupled with the inclusion of castanets and tambourines in the accompaniment was truly infectious. Zambello’s production transported us from a soggy evening in Covent Garden to Spanish style fiesta. 

Don José's main rival for Carmen’s affections is Escamillo (Vito Priante), a bullfighter whose entrance on horseback exerts his macho and self assured persona. Pirante’s character provides an excellent foil for the feeble and mild mannered Don José As you would expect from any production performed by The Royal Opera, the calibre of their voices is superb. Personally I found Rachvelishvili’s soaring range and vibrato an absolute pleasure to listen to. That said, with regards to her embodiment of Carmen as a character I found her overtly provocative and sultry. Although she displayed glimmers of vulnerability during their tarot card reading scene, for me Carmen’s enigmatic nature which is so prevalent in Prosper Mérimée’s original novella was somewhat lost in Rachvelishvili’s performance.

 With a strong cast comprising of over 50  (plus a few more if you count the live donkey and horse) on stage for the bullfight in Act IV creates a real sense of believable commotion. The most memorable image, that will stay with me from Zambello’s Carmen are the final moments of the piece - when the aforementioned hustle and bustle of people leave, and the emptiness on stage is filled only by Don José's final desperate pleas as he begs Carmen to reciprocate his love. Zambello’s version of Carmen stays very true to the original work, and in my opinion wisely so, as I believe that  any attempt at altering a classic such as Carmen would be entering extremely dangerous territory. 

Although, Carmen may meet a tragic end, the gypsy created by Mérimée and immortalised by Bizet lives on in our minds as the archetypal femme fatale.

Carmen is being performed at The Royal Opera House until January 9th for tickets and more information please visit  http://www.roh.org.uk

Peter Pan Goes Wrong- Does Exactly What It Says On The Tin

A set that falls down; countless missed cues; and an accident prone cast. You would be forgiven for thinking that these calamities were merely symptomatic of staging a press night on Friday the 13th. Whereas, in fact they were actually intended hiccups in the aptly named play Peter Pan Goes Wrong. Those that are familiar with Mischief Theatre’s previous work will know that any production staged by their fictional amateur dramatic society: Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society, tends to be littered with disastrous mishaps. For this year’s production they have set their sights on a retelling of the J.M Barrie classic Peter Pan, but as the title of this hilarious show suggests anything that could possibly go wrong does.

Peter Pan Goes Wrong is the epitome of a well crafted farce, as it feels like they’ve combined comedic elements from shows like One Man Two Guv’nors; Faulty Towers and a fair few Monty Python sketches - resulting in an accomplished piece of theatre that had the entire audience in hysterics through out. Much of the humour relies on visual slapstick inspired gags, for instance a rotund Robert (Henry Lewis) repeatedly gets stuck in various parts of the set. I lost count of the amount of times that Lewis and the rest of this young cast were hit on the head with various props and collapsing scenery. It didn’t seem to matter how many times these tropes were used, they still continued to be funny every time they occurred. I think this was largely thanks to the stellar cast’s exaggerated and pained reactions and also their impeccable comedic timing. I can’t remember the last time I saw a piece of theatre where the audience’s laughter provided an almost constant soundtrack to the production.

Peter Pan Goes Wrong in many ways is a homage to the feeling of schadenfraude. Playing on the idea that an audience will often find an unintended mishap on stage funnier than any of the scripted jokes. The true brilliance of this piece comes from the fact that everything that went ‘wrong’ comes across as completely believable. Thanks to Martin Thomas’ clever set design when pandemonium occurred it never looked staged. The play also draws many of its laughs from the idea that Cornley Polytechnic are a low budget community theatre group. Or more precisely parodies the type of characters that take part in amateur dramatics such as: Chris (Henry Shields) the group’s director who is the definition of an overacting theatre ‘lovey’ and Sandra (Charlie Russell) whose interpretation of Wendy is surly and uncharacteristically streetwise. Personally, I thought that the standout performance of the evening was Dave Hearn’s Max, a grinning simpleton who had only been cast as the crocodile because his father was lending Cornley Polytechnic a motor to power their rotating stage. I’m sure it will come as no great surprise to hear that during the battle scene on Captain Hook’s pirate ship the rotating stage, goes out of control and the cursed cast are trapped as they unable to stop it from moving. 

 Mischief Theatre are a talented young company and their similarly titled The Play That Goes Wrong was recently been nominated for Best New Comedy as part of the WhatsOnStage awards. In my opinion, deservedly so. They seem to have found a formula that works extremely well, I am keen to see which play they will successfully dismantle and transform into a farce next. The phrase ‘fun for all the family’ is all too often bandied about and misused. However, personally I can’t think of a more fitting description to describe Peter Pan Goes Wrong. I throughly enjoyed it, as it provided a refreshing alternative to a conventional Christmas show. I would be utterly astounded if this play doesn’t cause you and your clan to erupt into fits of hysterics. 

Peter Pan Goes Wrong is playing at The Pleasance until January 5th for tickets and more information please visit www.pleasance.co.uk 

A Real Cracker- The Meyer Dancers Festive Takeover Of Paper Dress Vintage

A few soggy mince pies and some lukewarm mulled wine tend to be the extent of most Christmas events aimed at adults. I was therefore relieved to discover that vintage clothing store come venue Paper Dress Vintage are putting some sparkle back into the festive season on Friday 13th of December! Yuletide treats include: festive GoGo dancing, two bands, a raffle, live DJ's and perhaps most excitingly a Santa's grotto complete with a complimentary gift! Whoever said that kids get to have all the fun?  

Regardless of whether you've been naughty or nice this year you can still enjoy a festive sing-a-long with Simon Love and the Crackers. I do hope they fully expect the audience to join in and belt out the Christmas classics at full pelt. Also on the bill are Thee Faction, who describe themselves as a Pure Socialist R&B group, although I'm not entirely sure what category that would come under in HMV, I've heard great things about their classic Fifty Shades Of Red. They promise that the tunes will keep on coming all night as Dj David Quanktick and Andy Lewis hit the decks playing the best in 60's soul and pop! 

At this expensive time of year, hearing that this extravaganza is a free event is extremely pleasing for my empty pockets. That said, do bring along any spare pennies if you can as there will be a raffle with some great prizes. After seeing acclaimed 60's Gogo troop The Meyer Dancers strutting their festive stuff no doubt that everyone will have their eyes on the top prize of a party package for four with the talented Meyer Dancers themselves. 

In the spirit of it being the season of goodwill all proceeds from the raffle will be donated to Hackney Winter Night Shelter. Personally I'd much rather donate to such a worthy cause than splurge on tat that I don't really need, so please give what you can at www.hwns.org.uk

The Meyer Dancers Go- Go Wild Christmas Spectacular will take place at Paper Dress Vintage on December 13th from 7.30 till late. For more information please see the Facebook Event and The Meyer Dancers website.

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Partial To A Bit Of Panto- Oh No You're Not.. Oh Yes I am..

You can't feel truly Christmassy without watching a Panto. A friend of mine was in the ensemble of this production, could have been a bit tense had I not liked it but luckily I enjoyed it and was even able to give her a well deserved namecheck! Also free mince pies and mulled wine went down a treat, other press nights take note! 

A cow sold at market, some magic beans and a giant beanstalk. You don’t have to be a detective to deduce that the Lyric Hammersmith’s pantomime offering this year is Jack and the Beanstalk. Writer Tom Wells’s interpretation of this well-known classic for the most part stays true to the traditional tale; however, it is cleverly peppered with references to the surrounding postcode of W6. A female Jack (Rochelle Rose) is tasked with defeating Nostril the Snot Giant, who has evilly robbed the borough of the colour green and of all festive merriment. In short, if Jack fails, ‘Hammersmithmas’ will be ruined! 

Regular frequenters of the Lyric’s pantomime will no doubt recognise narrator Steven Webb, as this is the fourth consecutive year that he has reprised the role. Webb’s guise this year is as Jack’s best friend Sprout, a playfully bouncy character who has aspirations of being a florist. As Sprout, Webb commands the stage with charismatic ease, particularly when engaging with the crowd in a spot of audience participation. Sprout’s energetic interjections throughout the show act as the glue holding the entire piece together. 

Accompanied by an electrifying live band, we are treated to renditions of many chart-topping artists such as One Direction, Taylor Swift and Adele, to name but a few. I was struck by the impressive level of singing talent within the cast, and without exception they should all be congratulated on their ability to convey character through song. Richard Howell’s vibrant lighting design, coupled with the abundance of gaudy colours and sparkles, result in this production being a sumptuous feast for the eyes. Visually, I found that the titular beanstalk is the pièce de résistance. Not only does it grow to a great height, but the articulated branches unexpectedly sprout from various parts of the set. The astonished gasps of the little people beside me, as they excitedly pointed out to their parents which parts of the beanstalk they had spotted, is testament to just how magical an end to the first act this is. 

The most noticeable departure from the classic tale is Wells’s choice to have three baddies within the piece. Alongside the traditional giant, the villainous Mr Flashcreep (Nigel Richards) and a street dancing urban fox (Emily Aitcheson) are also present. The decision to divide the archetypal role of the villain is an interesting one, and it did mean that the audience at first were unsure who exactly to direct their boos and hisses at. However, after some gentle prompting, the intended jeers at all three soon ensued. That said, Wells’s clear understanding of the classical conventions of pantomime is apparent from the way in which he adheres to most, and pokes fun at others. Wells skilfully avoids the common pitfall of groan-worthy jokes by including some great modern references – the joke about the hare from the recent John Lewis advert still makes me chuckle just thinking about it. 

For many, the family tradition of going to see a pantomime at Christmas is often a young child’s first exposure to the magical world of the theatre. The Lyric’s production of Jack and the Beanstalk is silly, bursting with puns and high-octane performances. This majestic production is everything young and old audience members alike would hope to see in a family friendly pantomime. 

Putting A Name To A Face

With the advent of Twitter and my fairly recent coming to terms with how it works, I tend to tag the theatres/companies to make sure they get a chance to see my review. Normally this results in various retweets and the overall reach of the piece goes further. When I tweeted those behind the Lizzie Siddal production, they followed me, and quickly retracted that offer by swiftly unfollowing. Although it wasn't an entirely negative review, they weren't so keen to share things that weren't just glowing praise. A clear case of we value our audiences opinion- but will only listen if it's good. 

The eponymous Lizzie Siddal was a seamstress by trade, but in her spare time she used to pose as a model for many Pre-Raphaelite painters such as Hunt, Rossetti and Millais. With her distinctive flaming red hair, Lizzie was a much sought-after muse, and was perhaps most famously captured in Millais’s iconic painting Ophelia. Jeremy Green’s play, Lizzie Siddal,explores the girl behind the pictures and her burning desire to be immortalised on canvas. 

The play is set in 1849, a time when models were paid to sit completely still in absolute silence. Therefore William Holman Hunt (Simon Darwen) and Dante Gabriel Rossetti (Tom Bateman) are understandably quite taken aback when Lizzie (Emma West) breaks this norm, pointing out that Rossetti has falsely claimed that a piece of Keats’s poetry as his own. Impressed by her unexpected eloquence and knowledge of poetry, Rossetti is instantly captivated by Lizzie and asks if she would be willing to sit for him. Upon agreeing, the first seed of the tempestuous love story that forms the beating heart of the play is sown. 

The power dynamic between an artist and his muse is one of the central themes explored in this piece. Not content with merely being an object which Rossetti captures on paper, Lizzie attempts to address this power balance by asking the artist to teach her how to paint. However, the gender inequality prevalent at the time meant that Lizzie struggles to be recognised and celebrated as an artist in a male-dominated industry. 

This production is a world première, and representing the life of Lizzie Siddal and her contemporaries makes for an interesting premise. Much of the humour in Green’s script comes from the references to Ruskin, Rossetti, Millais and Hunt’s wider canon of work, so in many ways it feels like a detailed knowledge of the period is a pre-requisite in order to fully understand the play. A couple of nods to these wider references would have been fine, but the frequency with which they occur renders many moments inaccessible. Consequently I often felt like I was being forced to listen to a plethora of inside jokes that were difficult to follow.

 West’s portrayal of Lizzie’s demise from wide-eyed innocent to a tragic heroine, desperate for Rossetti to marry her, is an accomplished and engaging performance. Another noteworthy performance is that of Jayne Wisener as the brazen cockney Annie Miller. Wisener has a true flair for comedy and her character provides the perfect foil for the refined Lizzie. Structurally, however, I found that the overall pace of the piece drags in parts, due to lengthy scenes with drawn out dialogue. Personally, I think the natural ending of the play is after Lizzie’s distressed final monologue; the next comedic fifteen minutes that follow feel like they are tacked on unnecessarily. 

However, Lizzie Siddal led a very interesting life, and this production is worth seeing if just to learn more about this tragic Victorian heroine.

The Conundrum Of How To Review When You've Been Sworn To Secrecy

I knew very little about this piece before I saw it, and Look Left Look Right want the rest of the audience members to go into with no preconceptions. Which is all fine and dandy, but slightly tricky when you've been asked to review it.. I have since been back to Covent Garden and I very much like pointing out the characters popping out of nowhere to passerbys. Only in London could folk be so indifferent to characters in flamboyant costumes and barely bat an eyelid at the strange happenings occurring all around them.

If you keep your eyes peeled during the festive season amongst the touristy hustle and bustle of London’s Covent Garden, you may just spot some familiar faces from Panto Land. For their latest production, Once Upon A Christmas, the highly acclaimed immersive theatre company Look Left Look Right has transformed Covent Garden’s plaza into its very own theatrical playground. Arriving at a secret meeting point, knowing very little about this alternative Yuletide experience (other than the fact that the adventure will take place in pairs) conjures emotions ranging from excitement to intrigue. Briefed that it would be our duty to save Christmas, we were sent on our merry way. Weaving through the nooks and crannies of Covent Garden, never knowing where or when a character would spring up from, is utterly exhilarating. Each character provided us with our next task or instruction, and the choices we made shaped the story. In this pantomime with a twist, the audience participation goes far beyond merely shouting “he’s behind you!” 

Although the title of this piece may sound like a children’s story, I must stress that the magic can only be experienced by those that are over the age of eighteen. Characters such as Dandini and Buttons may look familiar, but these cheeky gossip-mongers are more adult incarnations of these pantomime staples. Morgan Lloyd Malcolm and Katie Lyons’s script is extremely witty and littered with many a panto-related pun, but what impressed me most about this stellar cast was their ability to go off script and ad-lib. For a piece that relies so heavily on audience interaction, the cast’s fast-paced improvisation skills are second to none. This in turn heightens the sense that you are having a unique, tailor-made experience and that your interaction with the characters would differ from the next audience member’s rendezvous with them. 

I have visited Covent Garden countless times before; however, thanks to the local authorities giving Look Left Look Right complete free rein of the area, I was surprised to discover many doors and passageways that I never knew existed. It’s remarkable really that a piece of theatre can reinvent such a familiar space. Personally, I have never experienced a site-specific production in such a public place; the idea that I was immersed in such a surreal world whilst the vast majority of the public were going about their day-to-day business made my adventure all the more magical. The team behind Once Upon A Christmas should also be applauded for their slick delivery and precision: pairs begin their journeys at seven minute intervals and never once did I cross paths or even see any of the other participants. 

The denouement of the piece is spectacular and left me feeling festive, but as you leave the space you are asked to vow to keep your journey a secret, as Look Left Look Right want each audience member to experience their show with no expectations. So hopefully I have managed to walk the thin tightrope between enticing you to experience Once Upon A Christmas first-hand, and keeping to my end of the secrecy oath. 

New Writing Galore At The Radar Festival

For the evening a play about Chalk Farm was played out in Shepherds Bush. Having seen Beats during the Fringe I was already a fan of Kieran Hurely's work. This show was part of a double bill, the other show was Brown Bird, which really wasn't my cup of tea. Lucky I didn't have to write about it then wasn't it.

Scum! Pigs! Chavs! All terms that were hurled around to describe the looting that took place during the 2011 London riots. But how would you react if you discovered that one of the hooded figures ransacking your local community was in fact your 14-year-old son? This moral dilemma forms the basis of Kieran Hurley and AJ Taudevin’s play Chalk Farm. Told mainly through a series of monologues this piece charts the story of single mother Maggie’s (Julia Taudevin) struggle to raise her teenage son Jamie (Thomas Dennis) on a high-rise London estate. 

The bare performance space consisted of just two black stools and a fragmented London Underground map projected onto a series of white square canvases. This simple staging reinforces that the pulsating heart of the piece is the strong bond between a mother and her son. In fact, I can’t recall the last time I saw a play where there was such a believable dynamic of unconditional love established so early on within the piece. I think this is partly due to the clever use of flashbacks at the start, sharing childhood memories, such as when Maggie and Jamie used to stare out of their tower block window and pretend that they were protecting the passerbys on the pavement below, which accelerated the audience’s level of familiarity with the characters. Coupled with a phenomenally well written script which managed to capture the fine nuances of a mother attempting to come to terms with  the fact her little boy who used to carry a batman lunchbox is growing up into a young man capable of rioting. A tense and volatile relationship between a mother and teenage son, that so many can relate to was encapsulated with a great deal of naturalism so much so in parts the production felt like a documentary. 

The clever use of projection that has become synonymous with Hurley’s work (also used in his critically-acclaimed production Beats) did not disappoint. The twelve white canvases onstage were arranged into columns of three, and images such as the view from their window were stretched across the entire column formation. For me, the projections were used most effectively when real-life rolling footage of the burning buildings and general pandemonium of the riots was played, instantly evoking the audience’s collective memory of households watching the news of the riots unfolding on their television screens. It felt very pertinent to be watching Chalk Farm in a London theatre, as the memories of this definitive moment in the capital’s history are still very fresh and raw. 

Chalk Farm isn’t a political commentary on whether looters like Jamie were justified or not. Instead it questions the culture of blame, asking whether parents really should be held accountable for their offspring’s actions. I found revisiting the London riots two years later, once the media hysteria surrounding it has died down, really thought-provoking.

Just Passing By Tristan Bates Theatre

The most notable thing about this piece is that it delivered exactly what the website blurb had promised. A normalised depiction of a gay couple. Apparently one of the men in it, stars in Emmerdale, but that's no odds to me really as I don't watch the soap. I was glad that he proved to me much more than just a celeb name to sell tickets. 

Passing By is the tale of Simon and Toby, two young men whose chance encounter at a local cinema results in them having a one night stand. The next morning as they exchange awkward pleasantries neither thinks that their paths will ever cross again. Toby (Rik Makarem) is therefore quite taken aback when Simon (James Cartwright) unexpectedly turns up at his work the next day and there is still an undeniable spark between them. However, when both men contract an illness they are suddenly forced to depend on each other and their relationship, which began as a playful fling, is tested to its limits. 

The entire play takes place within the confines of Toby’s apartment. 1970s America is instantly evoked by Philip Lindley’s detailed and era-specific set design. As with any two-hander, the strength of the piece ultimately depends on the chemistry between the two characters. Toby’s neurotic nature as a struggling artist contrasts brilliantly with Simon’s vain and self-assured persona. Both Makarem and Cartwright gave strong, solid performances; my only slight niggle would be that I found that Cartwright overacted during his drunken monologue. I did, however, enjoy Makarem’s use of physical comedy: everything, from stubbing his toe to his reaction to accidentally getting his head stuck in the arm-hole of his jumper, was very funny. Alongside these humorous moments Passing By’s true triumph is the honest depiction of Toby and Simon as a couple. Like most couples they flirt, mock each other and frequently bicker, however it was this normalised presentation of gay relationship that was revolutionary when the piece was written in 1975.

Director Andrew Keates has clearly stated that his intention was to portray “a love story between two men that doesn’t have the elephant in the room that is homosexuality”. I think that the production succeeds in doing so as, first and foremost, it is a representation of relationship between two characters who just happen to be gay, and no particular emphasis is placed on their sexuality. Thankfully theatre has changed and evolved a great deal from the seventies, and now seeing gay characters onstage is fairly commonplace. Although this production isn’t as radical and groundbreaking as the Gay Sweatshop’s original production in 1975, decades later the piece still feels very relevant. 

I still found it refreshing to see an honest, none-clichéd portrayal of a gay relationship.  Passing By is a funny and moving piece that explores the idea that a chance encounter with a stranger could evolve into a pivotal relationship.

Where Can I Borrow A Small Person?

I enjoy children's theatre and I just wish I had a little person to adopt for the afternoon so that I didn't stick out like a sore thumb. I did find myself listening to their reactions as they left the theatre to double check that we were on the same page. Could have done without sitting through the piece twice, as it was basically the same show, just the one for younger children omitted the "scary" storm. 

Since 2009, children’s theatre company Gobbledegook has been creating works which cleverly fuse physical theatre and interactive video installations. Its latest work, In A Deep Dark Wood is a majestic tale which follows a young girl’s journey into a mysterious wood, where she encounters playful shadows, dancing trees and a fair few creepy creatures. This piece intertwines contemporary dance, digital projections and audience interaction. 

A group of under-eights sat cross-legged on the floor of the Lillian Baylis Studio, patiently watching dancer and choreographer Olivia Quayle’s contemporary solo. Audible gasps were then heard as a miniature version of Quayle’s silhouette suddenly appeared on a white screen behind her mirroring her movements. Quayle interacts with and responds to her playful shadow’s actions in a sequence that that was reminiscent of the scene in Peter Pan where Peter attempts to catch and reattach his shadow. The use of technology was impressive throughout; my personal highlight was when Quayle’s fairy like ‘mini me’ was balancing on the life sized Quayle’s hand secretively whispering in her ear. It was often during these moments of stillness where the clever use of digital technology was most effective. 

The promised interactive element of the piece manifests itself in the form of two ‘magic cushions’ which were placed amongst the children. At various moments during In A Deep Dark Wood these magical cushions lit up, their luminous glow acting as a cue for the younger members of the audience to swish their hands over them. The cushions added a tactile element to the performance, but also allowed the children to actively engage with the action as their movements corresponded with what was happening on the large white screens onstage. For instance, at one point, their fast hand movements helped to wipe away the monster which was chasing Quayle’s character. The magic cushions are a clever and unique take on audience participation and I think this is a concept that could be explored further to create a multi-sensory experience for the spectator. 

Gobbledegook has created two variations of this piece, one is a tailor-made version for two- to four-year-olds called Deep In The Woods, whereas as In A Deep Dark Wood is aimed at the slightly older demographic of five- to eight-year-olds. The shows are largely similar in content and the only major difference is that Deep In The Woods doesn’t contain the loud ‘scary’ storm. This is charming and enjoyable production whose clever use of technology creates a piece that feels like a digitalised version of a fairytale.

You're Aware Of The Embargo.

Sightly confused upon picking up my tickets to be asked if I was aware of the embargo? Sounded like theatrical goobledegook to me, but as the press officer explained that as I was watching a preview show that wasn't the official press night none of the reviews were allowed to go up until the press night so all coverage occurred in one go. I'm saddened to hear that From Here To Eternity will be closing in April, do try and see it. Don't let Darius put you off, his X Factor pony-tail days are long gone - truth be told he's actually quite dashing now. 

Set in 1941, From Here To Eternity transports us to a Hawaiian island where American platoon ‘G’ Company are stationed. Based on a novel of the same title, the musical charts the soldiers’ trials and tribulations in the months leading up to the catastrophic attack on Pearl Harbor. 

It begins with the arrival of new recruit: Private Robert E. Lee Prewitt (Robert Lonsdale), a troubled individual from Kentucky, whose reluctance to partake in any common army pastimes such as boxing set him apart as an outsider. He does however strike up an unlikely friendship with the pint-sized Italian Angelo Maggio (Ryan Sampson). Maggio introduces Prewitt to The New Congress Club – a Hawaiian gentlemen’s club where the troops can be entertained by local girls. The pair enter a tropical world of girls in leis, hula skirts and ukuleles, enticing the men with the first truly catchy number of the show: ‘Don’cha like Hawaii’. Prewitt soon falls for a kind-hearted escort by the name of Lorene (Siubhan Harrison). Love is also in the air for straight-laced platoon sergeant Warden (Darius Campbell) who begins a treacherous affair with his commanding officer’s wife. As war approaches, the world of the four lovers and the soldiers of G Company is dramatically ripped apart. 

From Here To Eternity has bucked the trend of simply recreating a Hollywood film onstage; the West End production is grittier and tackles dark themes such as homosexuality and prostitution that were glossed over in the film. But perhaps the biggest change is that Tim Rice and Stuart Brayson have created an entirely new score for this production. The soundtrack is a tapestry of delights from the harmonica-filled ‘G Company Blues’, to the military drums of ‘I Love The Army’, and lyrical ballads like ‘Love Me Forever Today’, which all form a truly memorable score that showcase the leads ranges brilliantly. With such a polished and accomplished result, it is hard to believe that this is Brayson’s first ever musical. 

Javier de Frutos’s choreography seamlessly transforms mundane movements like army drills into visually impressive routines. His choreographic skill is perhaps most apparent during the attack on Pearl Harbour, when his use of slow motion felt breathtakingly cinematic. It was refreshing to see dance numbers being used to further the narrative, rather than as mere divertissement. 

It’s hard to pick any stand-out performances as the overall standard of the entire cast is very high. The onstage chemistry between the leads was extremely believable. I do hope that those that have seen the 1953 film don’t compare the two too much, as I think it deserves to be judged in its own right as a separate entity. The creative team behind From Here To Eternity have created something really special: a musical that is a triple threat- with a catchy score, clever choreography and a well acted tear-jerking story. Unlike Tim Rice’s previous offerings, this is a much darker and more adult musical that I think fills a gap in the West End.

Everything Was Beautiful At The Ballet.

This was a day I felt like I'd really earned my reviewing stripes. After a long stream of small fringe venues tucked away in London's crevices ( don't get me wrong i'm a great fan of Fringe theatre), but I felt very lucky to review the a West End musical and a ballet at the Royal Opera House in the same day. Fantastic box seat, by the stalls I could used to such a plush press night. 

Since its premiere in 1965, Kenneth Macmillan’s Romeo and Juliet has been a staple of the Royal Ballet’s repertoire. Although this much loved piece has been performed countless times, prior to the start of last night’s performance there was an air of excited anticipation that filled the Royal Opera House. Reviving her role as Juliet, this production would be Lauren Cuthbertson’s first full-length ballet in 18 months, partnered fantastically by Federico Bonelli. Cuthbertson’s eagerly-anticipated return did not disappoint. 

As you would expect the crux of such a seminal production is always going to be to the characterisation of the titular characters. Bonelli’s Romeo is boisterous, energetic and passionate; my only slight criticism would be at some points his facial expressions were unnecessarily stern. Cuthbertson is a true delight to watch as she captures Juliet’s playful wide-eyed innocence brilliantly. Cuthbertson is an extremely expressive performer and this was perhaps most evident in Act III when her parents are trying to force her to marry Paris (the suitor of their choosing). Her strong-willed defiance is illustrated by sharp arabesques as she dramatically pulls away from Paris before a performing a series of bourrées as she hurries to get away from him. Cuthbertson then hurls herself upon her bed and hides under the covers, this action provokes laughter from the audience seemingly in recognition that she has encapsulated a teenage tantrum perfectly. Be it love, anger, heartache or despair, Cuthbertson’s portrayal of Juliet’s emotions are always believable which adds a heartfelt dimension to her performance. 

Each of the three acts contains a pas de deux between the protagonists. Sergey Prokofiev’s score soars during the iconic balcony scene, as, gazing into each other’s eyes, the pair perform a duet that comprises of daring lifts and sensual partner work. Cuthbertson appears to melt into Bonelli’s arms and the chemistry between them is palpable. For me, the most moving pas de deux of the production was the one which occurs when Romeo mistakenly thinks that Juliet is dead, he clings to her as he attempts to dance with her one last time. Here Macmillan’s choreography poignantly depicts the conflicting nature of grief. 

Macmillan’s choreography feels timeless and although many decades have passed since Nureyev and Fonteyn first performed the roles of Romeo and Juliet, their present day counterparts continue to captivate audiences.

Spooky And Comic Don't Really Mix.

Having missed it during The Fringe, I decided to treat myself to an early Halloween present.

Billed as a Gothic farce, The Curse of Elizabeth Faulkner recounts the tale of James Faulkner, an Edwardian gentleman who seeks out an undertaker to help him exhume the corpse of his great-grandmother in an attempt to rid them both of a curse that has plagued their families for generations. They meet on the eve of their respective birthdays and there is a strong sense of a foreboding as both are on the cusp of turning 33, the ominous age at which all of their ancestors were killed by the dreaded curse.

 As the bumbling undertaker Reginald Thorndike (Neil Henry) and his affluent companion James (Josh Haberfield) embark on their quest to find Elizabeth Faulkner’s grave, they are closely followed by a hooded figure attempting to thwart their plan. However, this mysterious cloaked presence is far from scary (he creeps along in a manner that wouldn’t look out of place in a episode of Scooby Doo). Any hopes I had of being scared out of my wits were soon dashed, as the slapstick nature of this comedic farce overpowers any horror filled moments. 

This strong cast of four work well together and attack their roles with great gusto; their skilled characterisation coupled with self-referential jokes makes for a very humorous play. I think my comedic highlight is a scene on a train that is rich in physical comedy and displays the cast’s clear ability. Following its success at this year’s Edinburgh Festival Fringe , The Curse of Elizabeth Faulkner is the latest in a long line of London transfers. However, in many ways this play still feels like a Fringe production, as the set is minimal and it is only an hour long. Although the short duration lends itself well to the witty, fast-paced dialogue, structurally the whole piece feels a little rushed. 

All in all, this play is more likely to make you chuckle than scream – so if you were expecting it to get you in the mood for Hallowe’en, you’ll be disappointed. However, if you’re in the mood to see a farce that is silly, funny and has an ongoing joke about about a goose, then The Curse of Elizabeth Faulkner might just be the ticket. 

A Futuristic Experiment

This was a strange trip to Shoreditch Town Hall, as the piece was part of Future Fest. A festival which imagined what the future might be like.. Interactive sculptures, sound cancelling head phones and lego models apparently. I have since watched the videos of the other folk that landed on my number, once was a 16 year old aspiring dancer, and other a fairly opinionated French lady. Not sure if I felt an instant connection with either.. 

In a basement in Shoreditch, a voice booms through my headphones instructing me to enter an unknown room. I am about to partake in Non Zero One’s interactive piece: Hold Hands/Lock Horns (Future Edition). Knowing little about the installation, other than the fact it is a one-on-one experience, I’m fairly intrigued to discover exactly what it will entail. I enter a dark room with a large forked grid taped on the floor. The interviewer explains I will be asked to choose between a series of options that will ultimately lead me to a number between 1-64. As I’m asked to decide between ‘power of flight’ or ‘invisibility cloak’ – the whole experience begins to feel a lot like a giant game of ‘Would you rather?’ 

The questions don’t appear to be linked in any way; I found that some of my responses were more instinctive whereas others I spent longer mulling over. My last choice between ‘truth’ or ‘lie’ causes me to land on number 27. I am then lead into a separate room and asked to explain the rationale (if any) behind my choices. As I leave I’m informed that the probability of the next person choosing exactly the same sequence and also ending up on 27 is highly unlikely – statistically speaking, roughly 1 in 4,000. 

In a couple of weeks, I will receive an email from the team behind Non Zero One which will contain a link allowing me to see videos of the other participants who also inadvertently ended up on the same number. I think it will be quite interesting to hear the way in each my fellow 27-ers interpreted the questions and the thought process behind their responses.The act of watching the others being interviewed transforms my personal experience into a shared and collective experience. 

Hold Hands/Lock Horns (Future Edition) was being performed as part of this years FutureFest – a two-day festival which imagined what our future might be like. Given the wider context of the event, I do think that questions asked during the piece could have been more daring and perhaps had a futuristic feel about them. That said, I think their overall concept of forcing members of the public to make on-the-spot decisions is simple but ultimately could prove to be quite revealing. Non Zero One is a young company whose experimental performance art shows much promise. 

That Tall Chap Off Miranda

This play took place in a converted chocolate factory, the Willy Wonka enthusiast within couldn't pass up the chance to check it out. Oh and it had Gary from Miranda in, what with it having done so well in America I was intrigued.

Ben Lyons (Nicholas Day) lies in a New York hospital bed surrounded by his overbearing wife Rita (Isla Blair), his recovering alcoholic daughter Lisa (Charlotte Randle) and his gay son Curtis (Tom Ellis). As the Lyons family gather round the bed of their dying patriarch, it doesn’t take long for this family’s forced pleasantries and stilted niceties to descend into bickering, recriminations and snide remarks. 

Forced to spend time together in the confines of the hospital room proves to be a tense experience for the entire Lyons clan. Day’s cantankerous grumbles were complemented brilliantly by Blair’s acerbic wit to convey the chemistry of this long-suffering husband and wife duo. As they struggle to converse, it soon becomes apparent that this family are much more at home hurling insults at each other. 

This family drama is unique in that none of the members provoke any level of sympathy. They all appear to be as vile as each other, with very few redeeming features between them. I’m not sure whether this really worked, as I found this family dynamic difficult to connect with emotionally. That said, watching a family that is as self-absorbed and dysfunctional as the Lyons did provoke a strong sense of schadenfreude. 

One the highlights of The Lyons is the poignant monologue that Rita delivers shortly after Ben’s death. Rita explains that after 40 years in a loveless marriage she finally feels liberated to rediscover what it truly means to be happy. She comically wastes no time at all in grasping her second chance at happiness, as she decides to run off to Aruba (with a man half her age) on the same day as her husband’s funeral. I also was very impressed by Jonathan Fensom’s extremely detailed and realistic set design; as part of his replica of the hospital room he had even gone to the lengths of including a working hand sanitiser. Fensom’s design provided a backdrop of gritty realism to the play. 

All in all The Lyons was funny and the performances polished but they were unfortunately let down by the lack of character development. I found the Lyons’ one dimensional insulting nature a little tiresome and consequently the play lacked an overall message. Expect maybe to think twice before inviting a family like the Lyons over for dinner.

Lion, Unicorn And A Yellow Canary

Personally I found the programming a bit hit and miss, but seeing as The Lion and Unicorn pub is local to me I wouldn't pass up the chance to revisit another Cloud Dance Sunday to see what is on offer. This was also the first piece of dance I reviewed, different skill set trying to evoke dance vocabulary...

The Lion and Unicorn is a small theatre bar in Kentish Town that provides a monthly platform for an evening of contemporary dance called Cloud Dance Sundays. The evening is comprised of four pieces, each created by a different choreographer. With each number being roughly 15 minutes long, they were inspired by a broad range of subject matters, from the recent protests in Turkey to the legacy of Isadora Duncan — and even a comedic piece of about a man mourning the loss of his pet canary. Without an overriding theme, the showcase felt very much like a pick ‘n’ mix of contemporary dance, attempting to cater to a wide variety of tastes.

 The evening began with Foundations, a piece performed by B-Hybrid Dance and choreographed by Brian Gillespie. A frenzied medley of jumps, turns and lifts showcased that all five were technically able dancers. At the climax, the quintet stood in a horizontal line at the front of the stage, all dancing in unison: the design of this looked very much like a frantically robotic version of ‘The Dance of the Cygnets’ from Swan Lake. However, I found most of the movement fairly generic as it didn’t feel like many choreographic risks were taken. In many ways, it was like watching a technique class rather than a polished performance. B-Hybrid Dance are a relatively new company, and I don’t think they have quite found their own distinctive choreographic voice yet. 

There were two very contrasting solos in the programme: the first was a homage to Isadora Duncan, presented by Julia Pond. She performed three short segments from Duncan’s own repertoire, followed by her own choreography that, she explained, was closely inspired by the movement style of Duncan herself. Performing Duncan’s solos followed by her own piece worked well, as even somebody who had never even seen any of Duncan’s work could easily compare and contrast the two. This was an interesting way of making a historical figure of contemporary dance feel more accessible. The second solo was inspired by the protests in Turkey and the violent clashes with riot police. Much of Johnny Autin’s movement was very acrobatic, yet his simpler actions — such as when he slapped himself — were surprisingly more powerful. 

The only duet of the evening was choreographed by Nina von der Werth, a recent graduate of the London School of Contemporary Dance. It turned out to be a very funny parody of a televised talent competition, which began with a video clip in which Francesco explained the emotional journey he had been on — indeed, his emotions were so exaggerated that at one point  the cameraman had to pass him a tissue. The piece was all about losing somebody: however, it was not until the very end of the video that he revealed that the object of his affection was, in fact, his pet canary. Dressed top to toe in yellow, with feather boas on  her arms, his dance partner Tori flapped around the stage as the pair performed a highly comedic and tongue-in-cheek duet. 

What struck me most about this event was the versatility of the programme, as each piece was totally different from the last. Cloud Dance Sundays provides a much-needed fringe venue for contemporary dance, performed in an informal setting. All in all, a rather entertaining way to spend a Sunday evening.

Performing On The Hottest Day Of The Year = Audience Of Just 5

Not only was it the hottest day of the year to be cooped up in a airless Hen and Chickens, those who weren't basking in the sunshine with some pimms were probably watching the wimbledon final. Poor Simon Jay, it's a shame as it was a very slick one man show. 

Imagine a live autopsy, in which the surgeon attempts to surmise what the corpse on his operating table was like when he was alive. This forms the intriguing premise of Scott Payne and Simon Jay’s one-man show, Is He A Bit Simon Jay? , in which the actor Simon Jay comically adopts an array of different guises and personalities, each one revealing a little more about his fictional namesake than the last. 

Given that the title of the show sounds like cockney rhyming slang for ‘gay’, I thought the piece would centre on homosexuality, but I was wrong. The titular character is absent throughout: consequently, as an audience, we have to piece together what Simon Jay was like as a person, based on those that knew him when he was alive. The show explores the idea that Simon Jay is the product of those that surrounded him. 

Sometimes in sketch comedy, when one actor plays so many parts, the piece can get confusing as all the personalities begin to blur into one. The same can’t be said for Is He A Bit Simon Jay?: each time Simon Jay becomes a new character, his voice and physicality change completely. His chain-smoking, jailbird mother could never be mistaken for his ‘jolly-hockey-sticks’ wife. Simon Jay plays over 20 characters within 60 minutes, my favourite being a man whom he knew from the pub, called Pete. Pete is the antithesis of the meek Simon Jay, a loud cockney who enjoys telling elaborate stories, which Pete explains are “not lies, just him making truths”. I was thoroughly impressed by Simon Jay’s character acting, as it is no mean feat to be able to flit between such a plethora of characters so seamlessly. 

Having been performed at a few scratch nights, Is He A Bit Simon Jay? is continuing its development by touring fringe venues, with the aim of performing at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2014. The only character that needs tweaking is the woman Simon Jay sleeps with after his own stag night, as her accent sounds too generically foreign — as a whole, her persona isn’t on par with the others. The ending of the piece is also a little rushed. That said, if  the piece is already this strong and funny during its development stages, I can’t wait to see how it evolves. Is He A Bit Simon Jay?  is theatrically schizophrenic, but all in all it is sketch comedy at its finest. 

Stars Of Tomorrow Let Down My Musical Of Yesteryear

A musical is only ever going to be as good as it's score, sadly it just felt like a poor man's Les Miserables. 

This year’s Guildhall School of Music & Drama graduate showcase is the Charles Strouse and Stephen Schwartz musical, Rags. Based on a novel by Joseph Stein, Rags follows a group of hopeful immigrants who flee Russia in search of a better life in America. 

Rebecca Hershkowitz, a Jewish mother travels to America to be reunited with her husband, who she hasn’t seen in six years. However, when her boat docks in America there is no sign of her husband. Without a male relative to collect them, Rebecca and her young son David are in danger of immediate deportation. Luckily they are saved from this fate when their friend Bella pleads with her father to offer them lodgings. All alone, in a strange a foreign land they soon learn that the American dream that they had envisaged doesn’t live up to the reality of what they encounter. 

With an audience rammed with talent scouts, agents and proud parents, the final year Guildhall students were all keen to impress. Rags lends itself well to a student production as the songs are evenly spread between the characters giving all the pupils an opportunity to showcase their talent. For me, the piece was at its strongest during the ensemble numbers. The first of these was the highly emotive song ‘Children Of The Wind’, which was impressive not only due to the sheer volume of the piece but because their voices blended together beautifully. 

Within this strong ensemble there were a few standout performers: Lois Meleri-Jones coped with Rebecca’s challenging score really well. I also thought Ryan Van Champion’s portrayal of Ben was very accomplished, so much so his rendition of ‘Yankee Boy’ wouldn’t have sounded out of place on a West End Stage. 

Rags is one of Strouse and Schwartz’s lesser known works; this was my first encounter with this musical and sadly I found it disappointing. Although I relished the numbers being accompanied by a live orchestra,  I didn’t leave the auditorium humming any of the tunes as the songs themselves lacked character. The Guildhall students did the best they could with what they were given, but ultimately were let down by the choice of show which I think was a real shame.

A Camp Fest With A Whole Host Of Americans

Even my extreme love of musical theatre was tested in amongst the rowdy American fan base. The YouTube clip of Cher playing every role in West Side Story is well worth a watch.

 There was an undeniable air of anticipation surrounding Broadway actor, musical director and all-round raconteur Seth Rudetsky’s European première of his hit show, Deconstructing Broadway. The packed audience at Leicester Square Theatre was eager to see his aptly named one-man show, in which he comically deconstructs the performances of Broadway starlets such as Betty Buckley, Liza Minnelli and Patti LuPone. Through a series of sound bites and video clips, Rudetsky insightfully unpicks many musical numbers, scrutinising each singer’s technique in great detail. 

Rudetsky charismatically jokes that from a young age he has always enjoyed listening to cast recordings at least 20 times a day; Deconstructing Broadway is clearly born out of his passion for all things musical theatre. It many ways the piece feels like a rather camp academic lecture, in which his objective is to pinpoint exactly what

separates an iconic performance from a disastrous one. Watching Deconstructing Broadway could be likened to watching YouTube clips with an expert — but be warned, once Rudetsky has pointed out even the smallest flaw in any performance, you will never be able to watch or listen to it in the same way again. 

Some of the most comical sound bites star a young Rudetsky himself, my personal favourite being his 12-year-old self’s embittered rendition of ‘Tomorrow’, from the musical Annie. The other reason that Rudetsky is this side of the pond is that he is also performing with Tony and Olivier award winner Patti LuPone, and it was apparent that many members of the audience had watched the LuPone production beforehand. As there are many inside jokes and references to the earlier show, it’s difficult to fully appreciate this one without having watched LuPone perform. Structurally the work felt incomplete, almost as if I had arrived late and missed half of the show. 

As a genre, musical theatre doesn’t always receive the same acclaim and respect that ‘straight’ theatre does. Rudetsky raises an interesting point that for a singer on a mainstream televised singing competition, such as The X Factor, to be likened to musical theatre often suggests a criticism of their performance. Consequently I found it refreshing to see Rudetsky elevate the study of musical theatre to something worthy of academic merit. 

The other thing I would like to thank Rudetsky for is alerting me to the existence of many a brilliant YouTube clip, in particular a one-woman version of West Side Story in which Cher plays every role — an absolute must-see if you fancy a chuckle! 

Happy New Experience Of My Own

As I've alluded to before, the more you enjoy a piece the easier it is to write about. In fact, I recall too many words tumbling out and having to do a fair bit of cutting down. Once I've seen a show, I like to follow it's progress and see how well it's doing. Upon doing so, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Happy New had quote a line from my review on their poster. Surely a critics milestone, next step get a quote on a side of theatre complete with backlight….

Happy New is the tale of two brothers who, as children, were abandoned by their mother and forced to live like animals in a cramped chicken coop. Starved of all human interaction, Danny and Lyle began clucking and pecking as they embodied the physicalities of the chickens that surrounded them. Now in their twenties, the pair are still haunted by their time in the coop and Brendan Cowell’s play explores their struggle to assimilate into mainstream society. 

Thrust into the spotlight, Danny and Lyle are unwillingly grilled and exploited by the vulture-like press. Lyle’s fragility is exposed when he breaks down during a television interview, pleading to be left alone and sobbing that no-one would ever be able to come close to understanding the suffering they had endured. 

The main thing that struck me about this production was the ease with which they are able to convert the concept of being raised by chickens into something so believable. The piece begins with Danny (William Troughton) and Lyle (Joel Samuels) bantering and pampering themselves; their close brotherly bond is very apparent. However, despite their best efforts, Troughton and Samuels are often hindered by dialogue that is too wordy and overloaded with puns. Luckily the piece soon warms up with the arrival of Danny’s girlfriend, Pru, played brilliantly by Lisa Dillon. Pru’s character is a fascinating one as she encourages Lyle to brave life beyond the confines of their apartment, yet also perversely seems to enjoy it when he reverts back to chicken-like behaviour. 

A flashback to their life in the coop forms the climax of the play. Removing the linen from the two on-stage beds reveals that the bases of them are made entirely out of chicken wire. These are then turned on their sides to recreate the claustrophobic chicken coop. For me, the idea that they that have been sleeping inches away from their former prison all along was quite heart-wrenching. Lily Arnold’s bed design could be viewed as a physical representation of their neglect and suffering, cementing it as a chapter in their lives that they will never be able to recover from or wipe from their minds. 

Happy New is a dark comedy which left me feeling emotionally raw. It may also make you think twice about going for a Nando’s after the show. 

When Two Worlds Collide.

I was interning at The Pleasance Theatre when I merrily signed up to review Playing With Grown Ups. During my time there I was careful never to cover anything playing at The Pleasance, as I thought it would be difficult to remain impartial. What I hadn't bargained on, was their involvement with other venues. So without warning I discovered that I was to pass judgement on play that The Head of Development - who I happened to share my desk with was directing. Never have I ever felt so much pressure to enjoy something knowing full well that she would probably be reading what I'd written on the computer next to mine. 

Playing with Grown Ups centres around a couple in their late 30s, trying to adjust to their new roles as first time parents. Robert (Ben Caplan) takes to parenthood naturally, whereas Joanna (Trudi Jackson) is presented as frazzled and overwhelmed by her new responsibilities. An exhausted Joanna is far from pleased to hear that her husband has invited their old university friend, Jake, round for dinner. 

Silver-haired Jake (Shane Attwooll) arrives with his date Stella (Daisy Hughes) a girl who is young enough to be his daughter. As the group poke fun at Stella’s idealistic view of the world, their evening is repeatedly interrupted by the baby crying offstage. Joanna’s irritation at this incessant crying is apparent, an irritation which escalates as the evening progresses until she finally erupts shrieking that she cannot cope anymore. As she expresses sentiments of feeling trapped and invisible it soon becomes clear that Joanna is suffering from severe post-natal depression. 

Portraying gritty realism on stage can be tricky, but this production achieves it effortlessly. The entire play is confined to the couple’s living room, and thanks to Simon Scullion’s design and naturalistic performances from the entire cast it genuinely feels like you’re eavesdropping on a group of old friends. As the wine flows this group of university chums reflect on how the aspirations they had when they were students compare to the reality of what their lives have become. 

I found Hannah Patterson’s female characterisation particularly interesting, for instance her use of monologues to reveal that despite appearing to be a happy-go-lucky carefree teenager Stella’s home life is also rather troubled. I thought that Hughes’s portrayal of Stella was both endearing and accomplished. I also found Jackson’s depiction of Joanna breakdown to be truly poignant, fighting back the tears to explain that since becoming a mother she feels like she lost all sense of identity. To have a mother refer to child as a terrible mistake is difficult to hear, but for me encapsulates the bleak despair that many women suffering from post-natal depression must feel daily. 

Parents often refer to having children as being a big sacrifice, suddenly having to put another person’s needs before your own. Playing with Grown Ups explores the emotional and physiological effect that this sacrifice has on a parent.