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Pandemonium

We don’t get enough satire on our stages. Are we going soft? Afraid of a backlash from the Arts Council? Fortunately Armando Iannuchi is here to correct that with coruscating 90-minute run through the political shitshow of the last 7/8 years, a sort of bargain version of the Covid Inquiry that we’re living through daily at present. The real thing will take c. 5 years and cost in excess of £100m but is unlikely to tell us more than we already know about the extraordinary incompetence and rampant corruption that this show satirises.

It starts as an entertainment by Shakespearean players, in verse. What follows is a viscous but extremely funny satire, with a sprinkling of Panto, executed by the strolling players sans verse. Boris is its chief target, but it takes aim at almost every government minister and ex-minister, and others. No need to name them; they’ve haunted us long enough. It’s very clever and an absolute hoot, but like all good satire anchored in truth, so you’re laughing out loud whilst cursing within.

It’s success is not just Iannucci’s writing and long-term collaborator Patrick Marber’s staging, but five superb performances from Faye Castelow, Paul Chahidi (an unlikely but brilliant Boris), Debra Gillett, Natasha Jayetileke and Amalia Vitale. Boris’ hair plays a key role, even after the curtain comes down (metaphorically – this is Soho Theatre) when the stage manager gets the last laugh.

There is something thrilling about theatre tackling the issues of the day like this. Terrific entertainment but with a really big bite.

I think this was the first musical we saw at The Mill in Sonning (and the first they staged too?) and we’ve been back for 5 more since, all of which have been brilliant, right up to and including including Gypsy this summer, all directed by Joe Pitcher. When I heard they were going to revive this, I was expecting the 2016 production to be wheeled out and dusted off, which would have been fine as it was so good first time around (garethjames.uk/2016/12/30/high-society-the-mill-at-sonning), but nothing could be further from the truth!

It’s amazing how new musical arrangements by Jerome Van Den Burgh, Jaye Elster’s terrific choreography and Joe Pitcher’s musical staging can make to create a fresh look at a classic. It feels so new it seems invidious to call it a revival. The story of course is unchanged. Set on the coast of Long Island in the late 50’s (superb design by Jason Denvir and gorgeous costumes by Natalie Titchener) in the home of the Lord family on the eve of the marriage of Tracy to the ever so dull George Kitteridge. Her ex Dexter Haven turns up determined to derail the wedding to rekindle his relationship with Tracy and newcomer, journalist Mike Connor, falls for her too. Her sister Dinah is determined to reunite her with Dexter. Meanwhile, Tracy’s Uncle Willie chases Mike’s professional partner Liz Imbrie, who herself is desperate to bag Mike. Phew!

The musical arrangements in this production bring in a jazz feel, some calypso and even a Four Seasons routine. The opening number seems to emerge from a pre-show song and dance. The choreography sparkles with energy and fizz, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire a particularly good example. Most of the show is one long late-night party, and that’s exactly what Joe Pitcher has captured. The casting is impeccable, with Cole Porter’s songs brilliantly sung by Victoria Serra as Tracy Lord, Matt Blaker as Dexter Haven, Matthew Jeans as Mike Connor and Laura Tyrer as Liz Imbrie and Katlo makes a wonderfully feisty Dinah. It’s hard to believe Tom Noyes’ band is only a quartet, it makes such a rich full sound.

Cole Porter’s show has never sparkled as much or felt as fresh as it does. The Mill at Sonning goes from strength to strength.

Frank & Percy

This two-hander was the last West End transfer of one of theatre’s unsung hero’s, Bill Kenwright, first mounted in the Theatre Royal Windsor’s summer season. With Ian McKellen and Roger Allam as it’s joint leads, playing to full houses, it’s a fitting farewell to a man who did much to make popular theatre, to introduce people to theatre and possibly most importantly to tour shows all over the UK.

Frank is a gay man who came out over 50 years ago. He’s now living alone after splitting from Dennis, his partner for 30 of those years. Percy is straight, recently widowed, seemingly harbouring and hiding desires for men as well as women. They meet walking their dogs on the heath. A friendship develops, soon becoming a relationship. It proves rocky, but there’s clearly love there. The play is the story of the evolution of the relationship. The most astonishing thing about it is how young playwright Ben Weatherill is and as such how he manages to develop such plausible much older characters.

It was a play in too halves for me, the first being very slow, too slow, focusing on the creation of the friendship from their initial contact through the transition to a relationship. The second half had more pace, depth and humour and was much more dramatically satisfying. For me, the chief pleasure was not the story, but two fine actors on stage together as equals, developing the characters, with great chemistry between them. The contribution of the creatives in staging and design is good but is overshadowed by the performances.

A somewhat conservative but gentle and warm evening. I’m glad I saw it, but it won’t go down in my list of great theatrical evenings, even this year alone.

Infinite Life

The Queen of ‘slow theatre’ is back in London with her 6th play in 13 years, her fourth at the NT, all of them in the Dorfman. I have a bit of a love-and hate relationship with her plays, but when the next one comes along I feel compelled to see it. The best was Flick, set in a cinema as celluloid film is replaced by digital projection, the worst was the first, Alien at the Bush Theatre. Her other subjects have included an acting class, a writer’s room and a mystery set in a B&B. You could never accuse her of predictability or unoriginality.

This one’s about five women at a health facility in Northern California, all with different conditions, all seeking relief from pain. They lie on loungers in a sunny courtyard in various combinations telling us their life stories. A male character makes a few appearances, but rarely speaks or engages with the others. Time passing is signified by a character declaring something like ‘22 hours later’ and by the lighting. Nothing much else happens in the unbroken 100 minutes, yet it holds you in its grip, despite the fact you often feel like you’re with a bunch entitled, irritating new age therapy junkies!

The performances are so naturalistic they don’t really feel like performances and there’s nothing – set, costumes etc. – to distract you from them. I really don’t understand why I find her work so compelling, but I do, and I’m sure I’ll continue to. They do divide people, more than almost any other contemporary playwright, so you need to see them to make up your own mind!

Pacific Overtures

This is a very clever but understated Sondheim musical that we’ve only seen in London three times since its world premiere almost 50 years ago. It took ten years to get here, straight to English National Opera with a huge production in the vast Coliseum Theatre. Sixteen years later, on a scale more appropriate for a chamber musical, a visiting production from Chicago came to the Donmar and won three Olivier’s including Outstanding Musical Production. Eleven years after that the Union Theatre punched above its weight again with an excellent small scale staging by Michael Strassen, an even more minimalist offering. Sondheim & Weidman set about telling the story from the Japanese perspective, so this co-production with the Umeda Arts Theater Tokyo, re-cast with British Asian actors, seems rather appropriate.

It tells the story of the arrival of Westerners to Japan in the mid-19th Century, a hitherto closed kingdom, and the impact this has over the decades that followed. The Americans are first to arrive and the Shogun, ruling on behalf of the Emperor, is determined these barbarians don’t set foot on Japanese soil, but doesn’t really know how to respond. A minor samuri in the port where the ship moors is appointed Chief of Police to deal with the Americans and with the help of an English speaking fisherman who was lost at sea before ending up spending a considerable time in the USA devises a cunning plan to receive them on mats and in a tea house that can subsequently be destroyed, thereby ensuring they don’t, technically, set foot in Japan. When the plan works the newly appointed Chief of Police is promoted to Governor and the fisherman becomes a samurai.

The British, Dutch, Russians and French soon arrive, in a show-stopping satirical number, and it doesn’t take long before the western influence becomes insidious, brilliantly conveyed in just one song, A Bowler Hat. Finally, we see Japan’s determination to beat the west at its own game in another show-stopper, Next. This staging is an abridged version of the original, which John Weidman created with British director John Doyle in 2017 and I think it has more impact as a 100 minute show without interval, though I do miss the song Chrysanthemum Tea, lost long before this version, though I can see the logic of dropping it. The traverse staging gives it even more intimacy, though sometimes at the price of some sightline issues at both ends.

Paul Farnsworrh’s simple design is evocative and elegant, starting the show in what seems like a museum of Japanese style. The minimalist boats, big and small, are brilliant, as are the costumes. I didn’t think the descending screen used in the final scene worked, though. The musical arrangements feel very Japanese and are played well by the nine piece band. I did feel the authenticity of the casting of Matthew White’s production sometimes came at the expense of vocal quality though.

I think it will be even better when it beds in and I’ll be back in a month’s time when I can check that out. It’s great to see it again and to renew my acquaintance with what is still, nearly 50 years on, a highly original show like nothing else, even by Sondheim.

Lorca plays seem to have gone out of fashion. In the seven years from Howard Davies’ production of this in the same theatre in 2005 (with Penelope Wilton & Deborah Findlay in an adaptation by David Hare) to the Almeida’s 2012 revival (relocated to Iran) there were six productions in and around London. The last production of one of what are considered his three great plays (Yerma, Blood Wedding and this, all written in a five year period immediately before his assassination) was Simon Stone’s stunning staging of Yerma at the Young Vic six years ago, with Billie Piper astonishing in the title role. Now we have one of the most exciting new directors tackling Bernarda Alba, his last play, not produced until 7 years after his death. I was excited.

The play is billed as ‘by Alice Birch after Federico Garcia Lorca’. If only it was a translation or an adaptation or Lorca, but it veers a long way off, in tone and dialogue if not in story. Recently widowed Bernarda, mother to five daughters, is embarking on a period of mourning which convention suggests could last eight years. Her eldest daughter Angustias is betrothed to Pepe El Romano, but her youngest daughter Adela is clandestinely seeing him. Bernarda’s mother has dementia and they are all looked after by worldly-wise housekeeper Poncia and a maid. Bernarda is a stern mother who you daren’t cross, ruling with a rod of iron. She, and the play, embody the practices of the times and in particular the position of women in rural Spanish society.

Lorca was first and foremost a poet and even in translation, his words normally have a poetic quality. Sadly, Birch’s expletive ridden dialogue is completely incongruous with Lorca, the period and the society within which it’s set, so much so that it jarred with me from the outset. Merle Hensel’s three-story set, with two floors of individual bedrooms on top of the ground floor living area would be excellent if it wasn’t for the fact it’s a monochrome pale green, also incongruous. The performers, led by Harriett Walter as Bernarda, do their best with the material, but it’s a hard slog.

I’ve liked every Rebecca Frecknall production I’ve seen. Her revivals of Tennessee Williams’ Summer & Smoke and A Streetcar Named Desire were fresh, exciting and respectful of the playwright and her Cabaret brought decadent Berlin truly alive, but I’m afraid this is a misfire.

The Witches

Great to see the NT back on Christmas show form with the best stage adaptation of a Roald Dahl book I’ve ever seen (that won’t go down well with the Matilda fans!). Lucy Kirkwood’s excellent book and lyrics, Lizzie Clachan’s extraordinary designs and Lindsay Turner’s inventive staging combine with a brilliant ensemble to create something that’s huge fun, which I predict will return for one or two (or more) festive outings.

Ten-year-old Luke loses both parents in a car crash, but his 85-year-old eccentric Norwegian Gran turns up in time to prevent him going into care. They discover a plot by child-hating witches, under the supervision of the Grand High Witch herself (who also happens to be Norwegian and who ‘has previous’ with Gran), to eliminate the children of England, to be followed by other countries, and set about foiling it. They head off to the Hotel Magnificent in Bournemouth where the witches are disguised as middle class ladies, with gloves to hide their claws and wigs their baldness, holding a conference under the guise of a society for the prevention of cruelty to children. Luke is turned into a mouse by the witches, but he recruits others who’ve met the same fate to cause havoc at the hotel as part the plan to turn the tables on the witches, much to the consternation of hotel manager Stringer, determined not to allow the mice to affect their ratings.

There are changes to Dahl’s book (we never visit Norway) plus lots of delicious contemporary references (some clearly aimed at adults only) which give it much of its humour. Lizzie Clachan’s design somehow manages to make the Olivier Theatre stage closer to the audience and the space more intimate without affecting it’s grand scale. Her costumes are a riot of colour and creativity with an amazing attention to detail and Ash J Woodward’s projections are terrific. I think we’ve only seen two musicals with scores by American Dave Malloy in London, both in 2019, Ghost Quartet opening the short-lived Boulevard Theatre and Preludes at Southwark Playhouse, but this couldn’t be more different. It seems to me to be pitched well for a family musical.

There’s luxury casting here, with Sally Ann Triplett brilliant as Gran and Katherine Kingsley superb as the Grand Witch. Daniel Rigby follows his outstanding performance in Accidental Death of an Anarchist with another comic masterclass as Stringer. Bertie Caplan is terrific, confident and assured, as Luke – a big role for a young actor. I don’t know which of the three Bruno’s we had on Monday, but he was terrific too. The wonderful ensemble includes actors of the calibre of Tiffany Graves, one of my favourites.

It could do with a bit of trimming (with a slightly late start, it was 2h50m), but it’s enormous fun for adults, and presumably children; I didn’t take any, not that I hate them or anything…..

I saw the first incarnation of this show – then called The Season – at Northampton’s Royal & Derngate Theatre almost exactly four years ago (The Season – Royal & Derngate, Northampton). It’s taken a while, with Covid in the way, for this second incarnation. The title has changed (not for the better in my view), there’s a brilliant new design by Soutra Gilmour and the two performers are both new to the piece. It’s hard to tell what else has changed between the two showings, but it feels broadly speaking the same show, though funnier and with a touch more poignancy, but that could of course be the performers.

It’s a RomCom musical set in NYC. Dougal has been invited to his dad Mark’s wedding to Melissa who’s half his age and seems a bit of a fortune hunter. He’s never met him as he left before he was born and has been brought up by his mum Polly with whom he has a close relationship, but he’s curious to meet his dad and the invitation suggests this is mutual. He’s met at the airport by the bride’s sister Robin and he’s full of excitement, a movie buff in an iconic screen city. His hopes of sightseeing with Robin are dashed when she tells him she has wedding chores to do, though this partly hides her disinterest in babysitting this chirpy Brit. Dougal is nothing if not persistent and he tags along, snatching time to learn more about her, Melissa and Mark and Robin about him and his mum. They reveal the skeletons in their respective cupboards, Robin melts and they go on a binge using Mark’s credit card.

I really like the understated, restrained songs, the antidote to Stephen Schwartz style shouty bland pop. They help tell the story and are well played and beautifully sung. Sam Tutty first impressed me in an amateur British Theatre Academy’s production of Once On This Island. In a matter of months, he was wowing everyone with his professional stage debut as Evan Hansen, which he played for three years (minus Covid closures) winning an Olivier Award at just 22. At the time I said ‘You rarely see an actor invest so much into a role, but Sam Tutty’s neurotic, vulnerable, emotionally raw, authentic performance captures just about every heart in the theatre’. Well in his second professional stage outing, you can add a talent for comedy. Dougal is socially clumsy, but full of warmth and positivity and it really suits the character. It’s hard to play the foil to this but Dujonna Gift does it brilliantly, deftly handling the transition as she melts and succumbs to Dougal’s charms. They’re great together.

I enjoyed it even more this time around and hope more people get to see this feel-good seasonal treat. Five more weeks at the Kiln, musical theatre lovers, be there!

England & Son

Mark Thomas has been returning to his theatre roots, where he started at Bretton Hall, for some time now, with very moving autobiographical shows like Bravo Figaro and Cuckooed. The storytelling skills he’s honed in stand-up make them very personal, very animated, very emotional, with an extraordinary audience connection. The second part of this evening is a one-man play by his friend Ed Edwards, which draws on Thomas’ childhood and Edwards’ experience in jail.

Before we get to this we have an introduction to / explanation of the structure of the evening, with latecomers being welcomed and given a personal catch-up, and a ‘curtain raiser’ based on the testimony of people in the rehab group in Manchester with which they are both involved. These are fascinating little stories with a big impact, which he brings alive through affectionate impersonation.

The tone changes completely after the interval with a very visceral story of someone from childhood – with his parents, then in care, then fostered – to a young adulthood of crime and drugs, but also love and friendship. It uses his past to illustrate how experiences like his can have their origin in how we grow up. Often funny, with irresistible as libs, its an insightful piece that’s ultimately tragic, delivered with great passion and compassion, with more than a passing reference to the political and economic backdrop of the time, mostly in the Thatcher years.

I’ve seen many of Mark’s shows over the years and every single one has been different to what went before. You can always rely on him to take you somewhere you haven’t been, always thought-provoking, but also entertaining. This one seems to bring together aspects of others – storytelling, politics, real life experiences, humour and drama. Fasten your seatbelts, open your mind and be illuminated and entertained in equal measure.

Less than a week after Marcelo Dos Santos’ West End debut with Backstairs Billy, the Bush Theatre transfer this 2022 Edinburgh fringe hit, something I failed to get a ticket for when I was there. The plays couldn’t be more different; you’d be excused for assuming they were written by two different playwrights. This one-person one-hour show is about a stand up comedian and his anxieties.

Our protagonist has never had a ‘proper’ relationship, they all originate on an app, are brief and are all about sex. Now he finds himself with an American boyfriend who likes to take it slowly, with no sex, at least at first. The protagonist is anxious, somewhat neurotic and very much an open book. He introduces us to his new boyfriend and his female flatmate, his mother and a doctor, a previous fleeting relationship, but we meet none of them. Most of this is performed as a stand-up routine, either in rehearsal or live.

The dialogue is sharp and funny, very sexually explicit, with serious moments interspersed throughout. Samuel Barnett’s virtuoso performance is extraordinary. He’s done some great work since playing Posner in the premiere of The History Boys nineteen years ago, most notably the best Viola in Twelfth Night I’ve ever seen, at Shakespeare’s Globe. This is something very different though, commanding the space, creating characters, expressing his neurosis. On this evidence, Barnett could easily change career to stand-.up. Matthew Xia’s staging is impeccable and the design of Kat Heath and lighting of Elliott Griggs facilitate the quick changes of context and mood. It’s only just over an hour, but it’s a veritable feast of theatre. I’m so glad I caught it.

Someone transfer it to the West End please, so Barnett can get a third Olivier nomination and hopefully win it this time.