Downtown - Pulse Fringe Festival

Forget all your troubles, forget all you cares and go Downtown. So encourages Petula Clark in her seminal 1965 smash hit. If you go down to the New Wolsey Theatre for Paul T. Davies’ new play of the same name, however, you’re not going to get an ode to New York but rather a clumsy and clunky play that sets gay equality back by several decades.


After a heavy night’s drinking, burly Tony’s partner is singing along to Shirley Bassey in a fetching red sequinned dress. Bernie is an ageing drag queen and Tony’s soon-to-be ex-wife, the whining and bitchy Sheila, isn’t too happy about it. Sheila wants a baby with Tony, Bernie is having to avoid being bumped off by Dame Judy (Dench), Monica from downstairs is high on ecstasy and, to top it all, a visiting policeman turns out to be a male stripper.

All very over the top and outrageous and, while shows such as Gimme, Gimme, Gimme have demonstrated that creating shocking characters can deliver hilarious comic potential, it requires writing of considerable skill. Unfortunately, Paul T.Davies relies on sterotypes and clichés by the diamante-encrusted bucket load.

There are a few giggles but Monica, played with razor-sharp timing by Jane Cole, seems to have been given the lion’s share of what original dialogue there is. The rest, unfortunately, is very derivative of the aforementioned Kathy Burke vehicle and La Cage Aux Folles.

In the programme notes, Davies attempts to suggest that Downtown is a life-affirming representation of gay men; the reality is that he portrays in Downtown a very small cross-section of the LGB community with all the sensitivity and skill afforded to the Afro-Caribbean community in Love Thy Neighbour in the 1970s.

As drag queen Bernie, Paul Stone creates a pantomime monster of Hammer Horror proportions, while John Ling, who excelled in Serendipity’s recent outing, Of Mice & Men, looked plain uncomfortable as Tony. Sally Scurrell’s Sheila failed to convince as the cuckquean wife, although there were some nicely rounded and deadpan observations when left to her own devices.

Littered with gratuitous expletives, the dialogue fares little better than the ropey performances. And that’s the challenge of being a writer/director – when there’s nobody to tell you that something doesn’t work, it’s all in danger of becoming a little self-indulgent.

According to Paul T. Davies, Downtown aspires to be Brokeback Mountain but, ultimately, it barely manages to be a bump on the horizon. Hopefully in a rear-view mirror.

Empire - Pulse Fringe Festival

After the lights dim and the audience leaves what remains? In a deserted auditorium a ghostly singer, a musician and a solitary audience member run through one final cabaret performance, a performance that is likely to replay through eternity. In Empire, François Testory creates a dark, shadow world where the boundaries between reality and make believe, life and death all blur into one.

A performer slow drags himself off the floor and collects a discarded bunch of lilies. A solo spotlight shines on a small stage. An accordionist emerges from the shadows and begins to play.

Over the ensuing 50 minutes Testory delivers a series of plaintive torch songs to an invisible audience. Reminisant of a cross between Iggy Pop and Edith Piaf, his black clad chanteuse is strangely androgynous and other worldly. Much like ‘the little sparrow’ there is also a sense of frailty and loneliness about this performer, the spotlight and applause their only friends.

There is a plaintive, almost reverent feel to the musical numbers as well. Piaf’s Padam Padam merging into Iggy Pop’s I Wanna Be Your Dog and as the spotlight fades a chilling falsetto liturgical madrigal springs from the shadows.

Much of the story is left suitably vague to allow an audience to make their own interpretations but it does provide a subtle emotional punch.

Testory delivers a performance combining a subtle physicality with a surprisingly wide vocal range. Ian Hill’s accordion accompaniments add atmosphere while Simon Vincenzi’s direction focuses on character and atmosphere.

Empire is a subtle show that for those willing to work with it offers much.

Others - Pulse Fringe Festival

In this age of super injunctions, the issue of privacy and what we actually know about celebrities and each other has renewed impetus. How do we really get to know someone? From their public image? From what we read or perhaps nowadays a radical approach – actually talking to them.


The Others by Paper Birds is based on an exchange of email surveys with three different women, an Iranian artist, a prisoner, and celebrity Heather Mills. Their responses form the backbone for an examination of identity and individuality. It is an intriguing concept; verbatim theatre is usually employed to tell a single narrative, but here the three lives form a non-linear narrative that, while featuring individual tales, gives a wider exposure to the subject.

Despite the wildly different circumstances of each woman, certain key traits permeate preconceptions and cultural stereotypes that each woman battles to overcome. It’s nothing radical but it is performed with flair. Combining fluid staging with movement and music, the piece seems almost cinematic, perhaps reflecting the multimedia age were we now feel everyone’s lives are public property.

Performers Kylie Walsh, Jemma McDonnel and Shani Erez, accompanied by musician Shane Durrant encourage us to reconsider what we really know about various groups of people. It could easily turn into preaching but the mix of movement and comedy makes it a light touch.

Some moments work better than others – the puncturing of a typical western view of Iranian women’s lives is powerfully, yet sensitively handled while the difficult task of covering Heather Mills’ infamous divorce manages to avoid taking sides.

Other sections though still need to work. An opening scene revolving around unseen and unheard offstage noises and interruptions threaten to send the audience down the wrong path of a mystery thriller and it takes a few minutes to get back on track.

The simple yet inventive staging and engaging subject matter though overcome these initial problems and the end result is a thought provoking examination of identity and preconception.

You're Not Like Other Girls Chrissy - Pulse Fringe Festival

Paris, the city of love. Scenes of countless romantic encounters, dreams, and even the odd broken heart. The city also represents a spirit of hope, never more in evidence during the darkest hours of the Second World War.


Its 1945 and Christianne, a young Parisian girl is waiting at the Gare du Nord trying to board a train to England to meet her English fiancé, Cyril, whom she met just before the outbreak of hostilities in the unlikely setting of a Staffordshire tennis club.

Christianne is determined to snare her man and her plans seem to be going to plan when Cyril visits Paris.

Up until this point, You’re Not Like The Other Girls Chrissy seems a traditional genial, light and frothy character observation. Christianne’s well meaning attempts with the English language turn her into a Parisian version of Mrs Malaprop and the comedy flows thick and fast. Then, just as the storm clouds of War began to sweep across France, the show also becomes darker. Barely perceptible at first, the pain of separation and the uncertainty over Christianne and Cyril’s future becomes almost unbearably poignant to watch.

Author and performer Christine Horton turns in a tour-de-force performance, shifting emotional gears so subtly that the emotional impact builds to a tear inducing finale. It is testament to the quality of both writing and performance that we feel so connected to the character that we follow though both the pain and laughter.

Horton’s almost poetic text makes it easy to envisage the multiple locations involved. She conveys vivid images that stick long in the memory. The shocking description of being told as a child she would likely go blind and of the glasses that made her ears bleed, the pain of being surrounded by cherry blossom as she receives a letter from her love breaking off their engagement and the heartbreaking decision she has to make to burn Cyril’s letter lest they get discovered by the Nazis.

There’s many a twist in the tale and it would be a shame to reveal them here and lessen the impact for future audiences. Suffice to say the final audio visual postscript will surprise many and demonstrate the real formidable nature of this remarkable woman.

Christianne’s story may have taken place over 65 years ago but for anyone who has ever been in love the raw emotion on show will be all to real. There’s no editing the past here to make a rose-tinted future, just an understated but ultimately gripping tribute to the enduring power of love. At the end of the day all that is left to say is C’est magnifique!

Wealth's Last Caprice - Pulse Fringe Festival

What defines a life? At the end of our days what do we leave behind? What happens to those possessions when we die?


Fifteen years ago Chris Dugrenier arrived in the UK. Now in her new one woman show Wealth’s Last Caprice, reflecting on composing her last Will and Testament, she decides to identify her belongings.

Rather than some random collation, she spends three whole weeks cataloguing every single item she owns. The findings are surprising; over those 15 years she has amassed over 2100 possessions, from books to music and exercise equipment. She calculates she has spent over £15,000 on the items, giving each an average value of £7.64.

The whole process of examining what we leave behind turns out to be a deeply intimate look, not only of death, but at life itself, the emotional journeys we take and the connections we make with the most mundane of items.

Treating the audience as witnesses, in more ways than one, to the reasoning behind her will and testament, Dugrenier creates a deeply personal and engaging insight into her life. Seated in close proximity, at times it becomes uncomfortably voyeuristic as we see the everyday and mundane flotsam and jetsam of possession accumulate before our eyes. Using a mix of frank monologue, movement and video she allows us insight into the normally hidden and personal.

This is the World Premiere performance of Wealth’s Last Caprice and although a polished showing, is still a work in progress. Some thought on the configuration between performer and audience (currently seated on plastic chairs on the stage) would pay dividends as would some slight trimming to reduce the current hour running time. Overall, though, it’s an accomplished early showing that delivers much. Several moments stick in the mind; the dedication to the love and support of Dugrenier’s husband is both heartfelt and moving as is the beautifully described wished for her ashes to be scattered towards France from the white cliffs of Dover mixed with Forget-Me-Nots.

A show looking at Wills and disposing of possessions after death could so easily turn into a morbid affair but Wealth’s Last Caprice surprisingly turns out to be a poignant but uplifting celebration of life itself.

A Dream From A Bombshell - Pulse Fringe Festival

In any conflict there are always forgotten victims. While military and civilian deaths and injuries make the news, the longer lasting effects on survivors often remain overlooked.


Silent Shout’s first production, A Dream From A Bombshell, takes a look at the impact of the Vietnam War on its civilian population. The War has of course already provided rich inspiration for both film, literature and theatre and indeed the starting inspiration for this production was Le Ly Hayslip’s haunting biographical account of childhood during the war When Heaven and Earth Changed Places.

While A Dream From A Bombshell is still a work in progress and this showing as part of the Pulse Fringe Festival its first public outing, it is already a remarkably formed piece.

For young Hung Lan the horrors of the war have been hidden deep in her subconscious. Keen to escape the carnage and violence she sees hope in the form of British journalist Robert. The culture divide is wide – Lan’s knowledge of Britain mainly formed from snippets of information and bolstered by dream encounters with a manifestation of Queen Victoria.

It is easy so see why Lan’s mind wanders; along with her Mother and sister she toils in the hot, backbreaking paddy fields, a rural upbringing that ill prepares her for the bustling streets of Saigon in later life. The repetitive and back breaking world of the rice fields contrasted with the crowded urban Saigon urban effectively explored in movement.

We get snatches of memory from Lan’s life, the shocking description of how as a young child she witness her father being shot at 2am – prompting her to ask herself ‘what is a child meant to do in war – run out and rescue him?’ It’s a poetic description that barely conveys the true horror of war but it is performed with poignancy and conviction.

As the play climaxes we begin to understand the reasons for Lan’s flashbacks and the true horror of her situation becomes apparent as her dreams of a new life in Britain fade.

Strong performance from the entire company, Anna Nguyen, Luke Mcgrath, Pippa Wildwood, Sheri Sadd and Paula Siu, belie the early stage of development of the piece.

Some of the dialogue still needs some work, with the British and American characters in particular sounding more like sound bites than well-rounded characters.

Overall, though, there is great potential here and A Dream From A Bombshell is a show to watch with interest in its future development.

Escape Velocity (bye bye bye) - Pulse Fringe Festival

Space travel and loneliness are already becoming front runners for favoured themes for this year’s Pulse Fringe Festival. Hard on the heels of Captain KO and the Planet of Rice, comes another early work in progress, Escape Velocity (bye bye bye) by Barometric. The same dilemmas from the earlier show apply in reviewing a work in progress and again this should be borne in mind.


As it currently stands we are offered a series of what Thomas Martin, performer and co-writer with Nina Segal, describes during the performance as ‘bits’ of a show centred around astronauts having to cope with the pressures of confinement, loneliness and sheer distance from home.

Thomas himself runs through his suitability to venture into space, an unlikely proposition given by his own admission his bad eyesight, dodgy knees, and feet and a history of sinus trouble. Of course physical health is only one of the pressures facing space travellers. The mental challenges faced are arguably greater than the biological. Using a series of science fiction films as case studies Thomas examines some of these conundrums, how to cope with space madness or who should become martyr in the event of a disaster.

Further sections look at the impact of sheer distance from loved ones and the limitations of communications and finally the sheer vastness of space itself.

While Thomas appears to be confident in performing the material, in its current form it is hard to the plan to coalesce into a coherent structure. Like Captain KO the previous night, the mental impact of space travel does contain a strong story line, but given that currently that experience is limited to a handful of people it does make it difficult to connect that experience to a wider audience. Escape Velocity at the moment seems to be trying to fit to many diverse strands into a structure without a clear view what the ultimate message is. For example, a sub plot regarding N’Synch singer Lance Bass’ failed attempt to become a space tourist could form the basis for a show in its own right, but here is little more than a throwaway diversion.

Other moments seem to be trying to hard to be creative for effect, rather than for dramatic reason. The final scene see’s Thomas standing on a chair throwing handfuls of flour onto the studio floor to create a representation of the vastness of the universe. While it does create a representation of the cosmos, ultimately it seems effect for effects sake.

As stated at the start of this review, Escape Velocity is a work in the early stages of development and part of that creative process is experimentation and discovering what works and what doesn’t. What is currently missing is a clear idea of what the show is trying to say and a clear structure on how that journey looks.

Like space travel itself, without careful pre-planning and a clear mission plan, no number of fancy buttons and gimmicks will get you into orbit.

30 Cecil Street - Pulse Fringe Festival

Are buildings purely bricks and mortar or do they contain remnants of memories within their walls? Walk through any neglected or derelict building and you can often imagine past events that took place within those crumbling structures.


In 2009 dancer Dan Canham visited a dilapidated theatre in Limerick. He made a film interviewing those with memories of the now redundant theatre. The soundtrack from that film now forms the soundtrack to his new work 30 Cecil Street.

As a reel to reel tape recorder begins to play Dan begins to mark out the floor plan of the theatre with masking tape. Slow and deliberate, the ground plan is created with almost reverent procession.

As voices begin to recount fragments of memory, movement is introduced and the building gets explored. As anyone who has ever looked behind the bright lights, the glamour of theatre is often little more than illusion and Limerick is no exception. A voice explains that the damp was so bad that ‘if you rubbed your hands on the walls you could wash them’.

Canham’s reaction to this vocal backdrop is initially barely perceptible. Small movements, controlled and precise. As the theatricality of the building’s history grows, the movement becomes larger scale but it remains focused on hands and arms rather than full scale ‘dance’.

Voices give way to recordings of echoing footsteps and snatches of theatrical musical genres and it is perhaps this section that is most effective; Canham’s steps reinforcing the ghostly recorded footsteps.

Sadly, although moments such of these do conjure up images of the ghosts of the past, overall the piece never really engages. Without any emotional connection to the building in question it is difficult to really engage with the memories being shared. The opening scene laying out the ground plan saps interest and while Canham is undoubtedly a talented performer with great movement skills, the introspective and small scale movement fails to travel well to the back of even this small auditorium.

Perhaps if either the original film, or even just still images of the building were projected during the performance we would have more connection with the emotions being expressed but as it stands 30 Cecil Street seems oddly distant and clinical.

A Life In 22 Minutes (revisited) - Pulse Fringe Festival

One of the joys of any arts festival is the multitude of events happening on any one day and those spur of the moment decisions that result in you seeing an unplanned show.


On the first day of the Pulse Fringe Festival, theatre company Inspector Sands shared the first showing of their latest creation, A Life In 22 Minutes. The work had been created from scratch in only four days and the review of that first performance can be found here.

A half hour gap in between shows on day two of Pulse gave the unplanned opportunity to catch the second showing of the same show. Not content to rest on their laurels, the company has apparently continued to work and develop the show throughout the day, so the chance to see what changes had been made seemed to good to resist.

The main bulk of the piece remains broadly the same so this re-review will concentrate on the changes made and should ideally be read in conjunction with that first review.

What is apparent from the start is a general settling in of the piece, even within these mere 24 hours. Structurally the main development is with the second half of the piece and the introduction of the Norma Desmond/Zaza Gabor character. Yesterday, the character solicited interaction with the audience; today it’s a more structured monologue without the audience reaction. One can see why the change has been tried. Audience interaction is by its very nature variable and while on the first showing the audience participated, it can’t be guaranteed. By structuring a monologue musing on the character’s greatest sense of achievement it perhaps fits more with the reflective nature of the first half. It does, however, lose some of the comic impact of the character and so perhaps future development should look at ways of combining both the reflective with the comedic.

It’s a rare chance to see a show in development on two consecutive days and it’s proved to be a great insight into the creative process. One can only look forward to seeing what changes occur further down the road for A Life In 22 Minutes.

How To Be A Leader - Pulse Fringe Festival

Browse any bookshop and you’ll discover a multitude of guides on how to improve your leadership skills, how to succeed in management, and endless other guides to the ‘rules’ of business.

What about if you don’t just want to move up the office food chain but actually aim for world domination? If you are secretly planning to become the next dictator, a trip to Tim Clare’s How To Be A Leader could be a good starting point.

Poet Tim Clare uses his one man show to take us on a journey through what he sees are the six key rules for leadership. Part business PowerPoint motivational lecture, part stand up and part autobiographical, How To Be A Leader is unlikely to produce any future Richard Bransons or Nelson Mandelas but does provide a wry look at what motivates leaders and what motivates those who blindly follow them.

Clare certainly knows how to motivate people to follow him, offering crisps to those who want them or threatening water pistols to any dissent. He doesn’t need the bribery or threats, however, as the performance is engaging from the outset.

Moving through the rules, we hear of his real life experiences mixed with those of some of history’s biggest dictators and leaders. What may seem an eclectic mix provides plenty of comic material – the tales of presidential assignation attempts married with the tale of Clare’s own brush with a knife-armed heckler shows how even the darkest moments can be full of humour. There can’t be many comedy shows that include a section on former South Korean President Park Chung-hee.

Perhaps unsurprisingly most of the alleged crazed despots included are male (with the notable exception of Sarah Palin) but the finale is reserved for half a dozen female leaders. By this time however don’t expect any reverence. Instead, if you’ve ever wondered what an x-rated rapping Elizabeth I, Mother Teresa, Joan of Arc or Margaret Thatcher would sound like, now is your chance to find out. Here Clare’s poetic background comes to the fore with an impressive display of word play. Most of the lyrics are sadly not suitable for publication but the rapping Virgin Queen

‘I’ll rain flames on your Armada, You may think your tough but I’m harder’ gives a flavour of the fast-paced humour.

How To Be A Leader isn’t entirely perfect; the opening section doesn’t quite sit comfortably with the remainder and the show seems slightly overlong but with some development these minor issues can easily be resolved.

You may not come out of the show with any real career development tips; however, you will have plenty of comic material to share in the office the following day.

Babyboxes - Pulse Fringe Festival

Street theatre – the very phrase can strike terror into the heart. For every wonderful performance there is a plethora of dodgy mime artists, metallic spray clad statue artists and mishap jugglers.


Bootworks Theatre, however, have reinvented street theatre and with their latest creation Babyboxes have dragged theatre out of its traditional home and out onto the cobbles. This is no ordinary street theatre, though. Four red tricycles are parked in a row, on the back of each a bright box. Two chairs are placed in front of a window in each box and audiences spend five minutes at each box in turn.

Part of the joy is the element of surprise of what each box contains, so will I only say that four film noir characters discuss the murder of a philanderer from their own viewpoint. The boxes themselves evoke the feeling of the confessional and, as each character reveals themselves, audiences get the sense they are being party to deep, dark secrets.

The whole experience turns out to be both public and intimate. As an audience you are aware that you are also being viewed by passers by, with the backdrop of noise of the town centre making an unusual environment. Conversely the one performer to two audience members makes it incredibly intimate and personal. There’s no chance of avoiding eye contact here and, while no direct audience participation is involved, you can’t help feel connected to the performances.

The film noir atmosphere is heightened by monochromatic make up that evokes the seedy American underword.

Devised and performed by Lilly Beck, Laura Bern, Bathan Coundley, Ellis Seamons and John Woodburn, Babyboxes is one of those productions that seems so ingenious you wonder why nobody has thought of it before. The scripts for each box are strongly written, each individual character having a strong individual voice though adding new twists and layers with each new chapter. Performing at such close quarters and in such confined space requires total commitment but each performance is a delight, quirky characters but each performed with total believability.

As in any good murder story, the big question is whodunnit. Babyboxes never gives you the answer but part of the joy of such an individual experience is the opportunity to continue the discussion with fellow participants after the show.

The setting may seem unconventional but you’ll be hard pushed to find a more engaging show. If you see four red tricycles with mini stages on the back – take the plunge, take a seat and get ready for totally involving theatre.

A Life In 22 Minutes - Pulse Fringe Festival

We’ve all been there, that moment at the start of any training course when delegates are asked to introduce themselves in one minute. What are the key facts that make up our lives and how do we condense that into a minute?

Inspector Sands’ latest work, A Life In 22 Minutes, looks at that very fact. It’s a remarkable feat when you consider they only started working on the show on Monday and now, four days later, it’s already an accomplished show.

Nadine Welch is 35 and desperately trying to fit her life into a one minute summary, trying to work out when it would be appropriate to tell her bungee jumping anecdote.

The fleeting moments that make up our daily routines flash before her eyes, transport delays, eating, sleeping, and exercise. All combine to make a cycle of events that define our time.

The show climaxes to the theme of This Is Your Life, as a fur clad, wheelchair bound Norma Desmond lookalike glides onto the stage, clad in fur, turban and sunglasses. She regales us with tales of showbiz encounters and even takes questions from the floor.

Giulia Innocenti performs both parts with delightful comic flair. Despite the short creation period, it is a well defined and detailed physical performance.

There’s much crammed into these brief 22 minutes but the work, created by Innocenti herself with Ben Lewis and Lucinka Eisler, feels the right length.

Small is sometimes beautiful and given the short gestation period, Inspector Sands have created a mini masterpiece of comedy that accurately reflects our everyday lives.

Captain KO and the Planet of Rice - Pulse Fringe Festival

Fringe shows always cause some conundrums for critics. Often works are in the very early stages of development. It is, of course, unfair to review them as finished products but the critical process can aid a show’s development with constructive comment. It is with that caveat that this is written.


Captain KO and the Planet of Rice by Dancing Brick is in its infancy; the finished show itself isn’t planned to be ready until Summer 2012. As it currently stands, it is three separate tales linked by a theme of memory.

The first part of the show is actually conceived as a duet but given the unavailability of one of the performers, Co-author Thomas Eccleshare was collecting the Verity Bargate award for playwriting, an audience member was co-opted into taking the second part.

This opening scene follows two astronauts as they land on a mystery planet and encounter the local population (the audience). While there is an embryonic idea here that shows potential, this opening is perhaps the weakest and most undeveloped of the three scenes. In its current state, the science fiction base for this section seems at odds with the naturalist remaining scenes.

In contrast, the second scene contains less but is conversely much more satisfying. A masked woman silently prepares to make a cup of tea. Performed in mime against an effective and highly realistic soundscape, it’s beautifully observed. Each movement accurate to the smallest detail. As the woman’s memory fails, however ,the simple action of making tea becomes impossible and the end result is deeply moving.

The final scene returns to space, however, instead of the fictional account in scene one, here we look at the real story of Cosmonaut Sergei Krikalev, who holds the record for the longest time spent in space (311 days, 20 hours, 51 mins).

Much of this time was spent alone on the Mir space station and the impact of this isolation on his mind forms the basis for this finale. Much of the tale here is told through video and again shows potential but needs much more development.

Performer Valentina Ceschi, co writer of the piece with Thomas Eccleshare, delivers some nice physical performance, especially in the mimed second scene.

Overall, though, at this early stage of development it is hard to see how the three sectors will fit together or what the overall intention is. Some interesting thoughts and ideas here but the mix of domesticity and space seem at the moment unlikely partners.

John Peel's Shed - Pulse Fringe Festival

In 2002 John Osborne entered a competition on John Peel’s Radio 1 show. His prize was a box of records from the vast collection Peel kept in his shed. Osborne won and a box of disks was duly delivered from John Peel’s Suffolk home to Osborne’s Norwich flat.


This seemingly innocuous event is the jumping off point for Osborne’s new one man show, John Peel’s Shed, a look at the medium of radio and the impact it has on our lives.

Winning Peel’s eclectic box of records reinvigorated John’s love of music and radio. Stuck in a mind-numbing data entry job, he decided to make the day pass quicker by pledging to listen to a different radio station each day.

Radio seems to have had a deep impact on Osborne’s life, providing an opening for potential romance and providing common ground with colleagues.

Osborne’s genial approach and candid honesty draws the audience in and, although a deeply personal account of life, this openness makes it easy to connect with the tale, regardless of your knowledge of the various radio and music genres being discussed.

The influence of John Peel runs strongly through the piece. Peel’s untimely death obviously deeply impacted Osborne and the tale of how his father stayed up for hours to record the Radio 1 tribute on a series of cassettes for his son is both touching and a demonstration of the DJ’s impact.

The records themselves also play an important role in the production, interspersing dialogue with examples of Peel’s unique musical style. We are treated to tracks from Oizone, a punk Boyzone tribute, Screaming Lord Sutch and Adam and the Atoms (a one man band who retired from the music industry with asthma).

There’s no fancy stagecraft here, no big message, no real revelation but John Osborne’s charismatic delivery and obvious passion for the medium turn this into a gripping love declaration to radio.

The Big Debate - Pulse Fringe Festival

What is the future for regional theatres and how do they compete with London?

A big question and the subject for The Big Debate, the opening event in this year’s Pulse Fringe Festival.

Chaired by Rob Salmon, the New Wolsey’s Associate Director, an assembled panel an audience gathered on a newly created performance space on the New Wolsey stage to talk about the challenges, and opportunities, faced by regional theatres.

Kicking off the discussion on what regional theatre actually is and the challenges faced, Ric Watts, an independent theatre producer working with companies such as Analogue and Frequency Di’ici though that sweeping statements across the arts don’t necessarily work and that it important for individual companies to create their own identity.

The New Wolsey Theatre’s Artistic Director believes that regional audiences may provide a more honest response to work, compared with an industry led audience in London, while Alan Lane, Artistic Director of Slung Low strongly believes that taking work in central London shouldn’t be the central focus of a company.

The emotive subject of press coverage of regional theatres caused much discussion among the panel. Emma Bettridge, the Festival Director for Pulse explained that they had fought long and hard to get National coverage for the festival, while Peter Rowe explained that national coverage is important to leverage funding and partnerships.

Andrew Clarke, Arts Editor for the East Anglian Daily Times obviously has a keen interest in the subject of review and press coverage and he believes that London critics are more critical of new work than regional colleagues.

Paul Warwick from the Warrick Arts Centre believes that the whole medium of reviews have changed and with the decline of traditional print media a quote from the Guardian is perhaps now less important than blogs and social media coverage. There’s recognition that venue’s use of Social Media channels, while growing, still needs to be improved with less hard sell and more engagement.

No discussion on the arts would be complete without the emotive subject of funding. The view that more private funding should be sought to replace the diminishing public purse caused much debate. All expressed a view that funding had become increasingly difficult but also conversely vital. Ric Watts believes that niche products may be easier to sell to a targeted funder but the fact that you may only be able to offer ‘a small glass of fizz’ in a fringe theatre is unlikely to attract large corporation funding.

So what is the future for regional theatre? Despite the challenges it seems remarkable positive. Partnership and collaboration seems the new key, with sharing of resources and productions seen as a positive step forward. Partnerships need to be built on trust however and not forced. Alan Lane explained it was like having half the cheque, companies may have the idea but need to work with venues who can provide the space, mentoring and support to bring the show to an audience.

A lot of debate, much continuing after the formal debate ended, shows there is a lot to talk about in regional theatre.

Key thoughts from the debate?

• Venues need to get smarter with fundraising and look at alternative income streams.
• Critical coverage is changing and companies need to embrace new technology and channels.
• Partnerships and collaborations are essential, however painful that may seem.
• Artists need to make the work they want to make, rather than tick boxes to meet funding requirements but also need to get more intelligent on who wants to see the work.
• Trust is key between artists, venues and audiences.

 Challenging times ahead certainly but with the enthusiasm shown during the debate from both panel and audience a challenge that can be met.

Photo: The Big Debate Panel. Left to Right: Peter Rowe, Alan Lane, Emma Bettridge, Rob Salmon, Andrew Clarke, Paul Warwick and Ric Watts.

One Man, Two Guvnors - Lyttelton Theatre

Skiffle bands and slapstick are not usual partners for classic 18th Century Commedia dell'arte; however, they are perfect for Richard Bean’s hilarious update of Carlo Goldoni’s 1746 classic The Servant of Two Masters – ingeniously transposed to 1960s Brighton and renamed One Man, Two Guvnors.


The plot itself is pure farce and, as such, doesn’t need overanalysing. Francis Henshall finds himself working as a minder for not one, but two bosses, both keen to avoid the police. Henshall isn’t always the brightest of folk and this duplicity easily confuses him, especially when his mind is more focused on where his next meal is coming from. Add into the mix two sets of tangled romantic liaisons, some petty gangland politics, mistaken identities and an octogenarian waiter and you’re all set for classic farce.

Although standard farce material, what Bean does well, though, is take the elements of farce but mixes in some real warmth for the character. Yes, they may be over the top creations but they are all immediately recognisable. Bean and director Nick Hytner also cleverly work the audience into the action with knowing asides and even audience participation. How much of this audience response is pre-scripted and how much improvised on the night is subject to debate but it does give the piece a real lively heartbeat.

Hytner also makes excellent use of composer Grant Olding’s skiffle band (The Craze), both as a pre-show warm up and during scene changes. The band (Olding himself, Benjamin Brooker, Richard Coughlan and Philip James) set the period scene nicely with songs that evoke the era but with just a twist in the lyrics.

For farce to work you need committed and skilled performers and, here, Hytner has assembled a first rate company. Gags are performed with just the correct level of tongue in cheek, timing is spot on and that ability to cope when things go slightly wrong is wonderfully demonstrated.

Leading the cast as Henshall is James Corden in a performance of immense warmth and personality that makes Henshall instantly likeable despite his buffoonery. Corden’s comic timing is spot-on, delivering an easy rapport with the audience and an infectious sense of mischief.

This is more than a one man vehicle, however, and several other performance stick in the mind. Oliver Chris’ delightful parody of the ultimate ‘nice but dim’ public school boy; Suzie Toase’s busty Brighton Belle, Tom Edden’s trembling aged waiter and recent BAFTA award winner Daniel Rigby’s gloriously old school wannabe luvvie ‘Orlando’ Arthur Dangle.

The second half’s pace may drag marginally in comparison to the hilarious first but in many ways perhaps that’s wise, giving audiences a chance to savour Bean’s witty one liners in more depth. Purists may say that Goldoni’s original needs no updating but Bean and Hyntner have created something special, a production that not only honours the original but stands on its own as a great piece of theatre.

One suspects that the National Theatre have a major hit on their hands here and that One Man, Two Guvnors will have a long life after this initial run.

Looking Outside The Arts

Amid all the furore over the current arts funding crisis, there has been a lot of talk of the arts embracing wider corporate business acumen.


It makes sense; the arts, while historically adept at making slim budgets stretch, is not alone in facing tough business decisions. And that’s the key word - business. While it may not sit comfortably with the creative community, ultimately the arts is a business and a hugely important sector for our country, both emotionally and financially. While the hard business world may seem at odds with the arts, in this competitive marketplace, those that fail to take a business-like approach may find themselves at a distinct disadvantage.

There does seem to be reluctance in some quarters, though, in sharing skills with the wider community.

While organisations are often approached for financial support and sponsorship, how often are businesses asked for in-kind support to draw on an organisations particular expertise?

There’s much potential for two-way benefits in such relationships. The arts can draw on an organisation’s particular expertise while, in return, there are many skills the arts can provide in reciprocal arrangement; presentation skills, public speaking, events management, for example, are all skills in great demand in business.

Some venues already foster strong relationships with their local business community but it is always worth reviewing, taking a step back and asking what the corporate world could offer.

One area that reluctance to embrace the wider world seems to be entrenched is the field of recruitment.

Yes, there are many roles that have specific industry requirements, but others in the fields of administration, marketing, fundraising and sales, for example, could surely benefit from an injection of fresh ideas and experience of the wider business community.

Yet, despite the opportunity to bring new skills into the industry,, a random (and totally unscientific) search of current job adverts in these fields shows many requiring ‘3 years theatre experience’ or more prescriptive ‘5 years inner London theatre experience’.

While of course you want to attract the very best candidates and ones with a passion for the arts, could those requirements really be classed as essential? Contacts and experience are important but the lack of industry specific experience could easily be counterweighted by solutions that your organisation hadn’t considered.

Go on, take that first step and engage with the wider business community – they are not that scary and there’s a great potential just waiting to be tapped.

Article originally written for Arts Professional Magazine

The Cherry Orchard - Olivier Theatre

Often Chekhov’s plays are seen as something of the time, period pieces that, while well crafted, can be difficult to relate to modern day. The Cherry Orchard, however, with its tale of financial problems, the challenge of facing up to debt and the consequences when that debt needs to be repaid, seems never more topical.

Much of this is down to Andrew Upton’s new adaptation of Chekhov’s script, a vibrant work that may upset some purists but one that makes the oft told tale seem fresh and relevant. A sprinkling of ‘colourful’ language may raise a few eyebrows but it serves to show a family on the verge of collapse. Inclusion of lines such as ‘you whiffy crap artist’ and a liberal smattering of ‘bollocks’ and ‘bloodies’ may initially seem to jar but when one considers Chekhov intended Cherry Orchard to be contemporary, the modernity works.

Money has finally run out for Ranyevskaya and, unless she agrees to a radical plan to bring in some much needed income, her beloved estate will be sold at auction. Not wishing to face up to the harsh realities of the changing social atmosphere of early 20th Century Russia, she continues with her blinkered, extravagant - if fading - lifestyle.

Howard Davies’ ravishing production engages from the outset. Focusing on the human drama this is a raw and painfully real Cherry Orchard. No white linen suits, samovars or parasols here, just a raft of beautifully drawn characters trying to find their position in a rapidly changing Russia while desperately trying to cling onto past glamour.

Lopakhin’s seemingly callous plan to sell off the beloved Cherry Orchard and turn it into holiday home plots a reflection of events that were slowly overtaken the Russian gentry at the turn of the century.

Davies has assembled one of the strongest ensembles seen on the National stage for a long time. There is not one weak performance from the large cast. Among the highlights are Charity Wakefield and Claudie Blakley’s hauntingly believable lovelorn daughters, Anya and Varya; Kenneth Cranham’s long-suffering Firs, and Sarah Woodward’s eccentric Charlotta.

At the heart of the piece, however, are two devastating performances of real emotional power and understanding. Zoe Wanamaker makes Ranyevskaya utterly believable. She may be a woman unable to come to terms with her changing circumstances but wears her emotions on her sleeve, making her a figure we root for despite her inability to face reality. In a performance of immense detail every inflection and gesture is considered and painfully real.

In counterpoint, Conleth Hill’s Lopakhin may seem initially more emotionally restrained. An outsider and never fully accepted by the family but desperately in love with Varya, he struggles to feel a sense of belonging. By the third act, however, the emotions are on the surface and things will never be the same again. Hill’s performance balances Wanamaker’s perfectly as the face of new Russia overcoming old.

Framing the performances is a breathtaking design by Bunny Christie, lit with atmospheric flair by Neil Austin. Transforming from the faded glory of the Russian mansion into the vast vista of the river banks the design and lighting provide both the epic wide sweep while also allowing for the intimate to take centre stage.

The modernity of the script may ruffle a few feathers but this is truly a Cherry Orchard for the 21st Century. Chekhov might have an underserved reputation for lengthy, dark and depressing dramas but here his Cherry Orchard is shown as a classic record of a pivotal point in European and world history.

Photo: ZoeWanamaker and Conleth Hill in The Cherry Orchard. Photo by Catherine Ashmore

dinnerladies - New Wolsey Theatre

There’s a strange sense of déjà-vu watching the stage adaptation of Victoria Wood’s hit TV series, dinnerladies. There is strangely also a sense of sympathy with the actor who feel constrained into mimicry rather than being able to bring their own interpretations to the role.


The show is so identified with its original actors; Wood herself, Julie Walters, Celia Imre et al, that the stage production relies on actors that can give near perfect impressions of their on screen counterparts. Where other stage adaptations of TV shows have relied on just enough flavour of the original, while allowing an actor to add his own dimension to the role, here every inflection is mirrored. It makes for a somewhat sterile setting and the thought can’t help crossing the mind of what the theatrical setting brings that couldn’t be gained by sitting at home watching one of the many re-runs on TV.

This negativity shouldn’t detract from the skills of the cast, who, despite the limitations imposed on them, deliver some strong performances. Laura Sheppard’s Bren is the lynchpin to the whole piece, a mix of self doubt, inner steel and everyone’s preferred shoulder to cry on. Reprising his role as love interest and canteen manager Tony, Andrew Dunn clearly enjoys the role, coping well with a couple of unplanned moments in this opening night in Ipswich. Also reprising her TV role of dizzy toast addict Jane, Sue Devaney also doubles as Bren’s wayward mother, the walking rubbish heap that is Petula Gordino. It is perhaps this performance that is the comedic highlight of the evening, echoes of Julie Walters but imbibed with a wonderfully eccentricity but still strangely vulnerable performance from Devaney.

Director David Graham has adapted Wood’s original scripts for the stage to cover a month within the canteen of HWD Components. He has chosen some of the most emotive episodes but the choice works well as stand alone stories for anyone not familiar with the original material.

Despite the feeling that the theatrical element adds little to work, what the stage show does provide is the opportunity to marvel at Wood’s extraordinarily powerful writing. In the intimacy of a theatre setting, it showcases her skills to portray the everyday routine, the mix of humour and pain, and her ability to create over the top characters with whom we can all identify. Perhaps that is the dilemma; audiences have become so familiar with the characters that any attempt to offer a different interpretation would seem alien.

dinnerladies is by no means stale and offers plenty of laughs but one can’t help feeling this is the theatrical equivalent of a pre-packed TV dinner.


Photo: Laura Sheppard and Andrew Dunn in dinnerladies.

One For The Road - Sir John Mills Theatre

It may seem the very height of respectability, row upon row of identical bungalows all with their neatly manicured, if very small, gardens. Tupperware parties, tennis clubs, neighbourhood watch – all one big happy community. Behind the blinds, however, it’s another story.


Willy Russell’s One For The Road may be one of his lesser known works but it turns out to be a neglected gem full of his trademark black comedy and cutting look at real life.

Dennis is on the eve of his 50th birthday and is coerced into holding a dinner party by his social climbing wife, Pauline. As neighbours and stalwarts of the local resident committee, Jane and Roger are guests of honour, everything has to be just right. Not the night, then, for Dennis to have thoughts of escaping the monotony of his daily routine and hit the road as a hitch-hiker.

Tensions are already high in the community after a series of decapitations of resident’s garden gnomes but, with the arrival of Jane and Roger comes the news that the vandal has now progressed to spray painting obscenities on vegetables.

As the burgundy flows, Pauline’s hopes of a refined dinner go out of the window and the neighbours learn perhaps more than they wanted about each other.

Much like Mike Leigh’s seminal Abigail’s Party, this dinner party setting provides a deceptively calm backdrop for the shock revelations that are about to unfold. Russell carefully layers his script so that, yes, a couple of twists are obvious from the outset but others come as a welcome surprise. Characters are given real depth and it is easy to play the ‘oh they remind me of’ game.

Local company Upfront Productions make good use of Russell’s sparkling script and Dave Borthwick’s effective set of a Liverpudlian bungalow.

Nigel Andrews, Laura Locke, Jayne Lindill and Phil Cory work well together. They give the neighbours well rounded portrayals that shows that despite being ‘friends’ on the surface the sense of mistrust and one up manship is never far below the surface. As perhaps the biggest outsider in the group Nigel Andrews’ Dennis is the lynchpin of the evening, a subtle performance that conveys Dennis’ frustrations and sense of mischief wonderfully.

Sadly the Scouse accents do tend to wander at times and, at other times, turn into a parody of the Harry Enfield ‘Calm Down’ sketch and at times the comedy performance just need to be dialled back a couple of notches. The script is strong enough for the material to do most of the work. Overall, though, these are minor gripes in a well-conceived production.

One For The Road proves to be a wonderfully observed comedy and, if your perceptions of Liverpool estate living is the doom and gloom of Brookside, you may be in for an hilarious surprise.

A word of warning, though: you may never be able to see cottage pie in the same light ever again.

Corrie - Ipswich Regent

The familiar notes of Britain’s longest running soap run over a panning shot across the rooftops of a Manchester terrace. As part of its 50th Anniversary celebrations Corrie has come to the stage.


Does Bet feature? What about Hilda and her ‘murials’? Does Ken get another wife? Does Minnie Caldwell’s cat make an appearance?

We may never know!

All these questions have to go unanswered as turning up to review at opening night, one was faced with a darkened, deserted theatre. The duty manager explained that the show had been cancelled tonight and tomorrow due to ‘lack of sales’ and that the box office didn’t contact those with complimentary or review tickets. An explanation from the theatre management will no doubt be forthcoming….

So in honour of The Street’s half century and to avoid further disappointment here’s a picture of Hilda’s infamous ducks.

Fallen In Love - Red Rose Chain Ipswich

A young girl falls in love with a Royal and gets married. No, not Kate Middleton but Anne Boleyn.

Her doomed love affair with Henry VIII is well known but, in Joanna Carrick’s new play for Red Rose Chain, Fallen In Love, we get to see the more personal side of Anne and her close relationship with brother George. It’s a relationship that would ultimately seal the fate of both as Henry uses an accusation of incest to free himself of Anne.

The 16th Century is a time when love is a powerful currency, affections can win titles, land and wealth and, in an echo of modern times, the cult of celebrity centres on Henry. Anne is ambitious and, although initially wary of the advancement her romance can provide, eventually falls deeply in love with the Monarch. It’s an innocent love, but one that is portrayed with touching innocence. Once first wife Catherine of Aragon has been dispatched and Anne installed as Queen, though the political machinations of Court life take their toll on Anne and she begins to fear for her future. Her brother, George, becomes her only real trusted confidant but even he has plans for his sister.

Red Rose Chain has created a unique and evocative setting for the production. Staged in the round in a yurt tent, it makes for an intimate and atmospheric atmosphere for this en-chambre tale. The simple staging is contrasted with beautifully detailed and lavish period costumes that hint at the glamour of court life.

Making an impressive and assured professional stage debut, Fleur Keith makes her Anne a believable mix of innocence and inner steel and determination. Over the course of the play we watch as that innocence slowly lost and Anne becomes more aware of the forces of Court at work and the potential threat to both her and her daughter, Elizabeth.

There is real chemistry between Keith and Joseph Pitcher, providing a strong performance as Boleyn’s brother, George. The relationship between the two grips throughout and makes it compulsive viewing.

There is of course local interest to Ipswich audiences with references to Cardinal Wolsey, who Anne calls ‘the butchers son from Ipswich’, but there surely is a much longer life for Fallen In Love beyond its Ipswich run. The show has a showcase performance at Camden’s Roundhouse but one suspects we will see more of the Boleyn’s than these runs.

A combination of a unique and atmospheric staging, a well researched and well written script and powerful performance means this is one show you will fall in love with.

Incoming - HighTide Festival Halesworth

Novelist and Poet Laureate Andrew Motion has now turned his hand to playwrighting. His first play, Incoming, receiving a world premiere at the HighTide Festival is a promising debut.


Steph is packing up her belongings ahead of a move to a new house. It’s a traumatic and emotional experience for her as the home holds countless memories of her husband, Danny, a soldier killed in Afghanistan.

In the middle of her packing, the ghost of Danny starts to speak to her, finally responding to the one sided conversation she has been having with her husband since his death.

The couple have much to say to each other and for undisclosed reasons, a limited time in which to say it before Danny goes to his Final Reward; once Steph moves from the former family home to try and rebuild her life will the link be broken?

Danny recounts his time in Helmand with brutal honesty, the camaraderie, the frustrations, the horror of seeing a mate scorched in front of his eyes and the struggle to carry him back to help and, chillingly, the sensation of death itself and the half remembered details of events after death.

For Steph this is understandably painful testimony to hear; in her mind her Danny was a hero, fighting for Queen and Country and a moral cause. The black and white reality a shocking awakening.

Motion’s script is full of vivid imagery, testament to his poetic background. There is more than poetic scene setting here though; Motion also shows a strong ear for dramatic narrative, providing some moving scenes between the torn apart couple.

There are strong performances from Penny Layden and Christian Bradley, reunited fresh from Lidless, a previous HighTide success. There is a strong chemistry between the two with an immensely focused and emotional delivery.

Incoming isn’t a totally perfect debut. The final scene introducing the couple’s son Jack into the piece never fully convinces; there is a potential here for the character to be more powerful unseen.

Despite its slightly underpowered ending, Incoming is an impressive theatrical debut from Andrew Motion and bodes well for future dramatic endeavours.

Photo: Christian Bradley as Danny in Incoming.Photo Bill Knight

Nicked - HighTide Festival Halesworth

Two households, both alike in dignity. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny. Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. Replace Verona with Westminster and you could have the tag line for Nicked. This isn’t Shakespeare, though, but a new musical looking at Deputy PM Nick Clegg’s rise to power and his campaign for voting reform.


You have to hand it to the HighTide festival team; they couldn’t be more topical with this, the centrepiece of their 5th Festival. With the result of the AV referendum less than 24 hours old, the results have already been incorporated into the show. One does have to think, however, does this ultra-topicality limit the shelf life of this piece? In the fast- moving world of political manoeuvring, will the story have moved on by the time Nicked would want to move onto a longer run?

The show itself is very much a tale of two halves. Act one looks at the formation of the Coalition Government and Clegg’s role of Kingmaker. It’s not always pretty and the piece certainly does little to improve public opinion of MPs, showing them as calculating and plotting for their own advancement. The second act, heavily shaped this week to reflect the latest results, follows first year in power and the move towards the AV vote.

It is the second act that is more engaging as we begin to see some of the human impact of policy but, although there are some touching moments; a powerful staging of the student fees protests, the resignation of David Laws and the impact on Clegg himself of AV defeat, the overall impact of the show is somewhat less successful.

While Rouge Noveua (aka Natalia Shepherd)’s music does offer a fresh and contemporary addition to the musical theatre genre, there is not enough melodic variation, especially in the first act. Richard Marsh’s rhyming book and lyrics also jar. For every clever rhyme (Vince Cable’s ‘I’m MP for Twickenham, got tap shoes I click in ‘em) is a cringe worthy counterpoint (the rhyme for Big Ben is ‘bic pen’). While this technique does lend a contemporary rap feel to the text, it distracts more than it adds.

There are some strong performances here that do aid enjoyment. Jason Langley’s Clegg, Sam Hodges’ Cameron and Ross Green’s beatboxing George Osbourne all work well together. While never aiming for ‘lookalike’ status all manage to convey enough of the mannerisms of their counterparts to make them believable. Holding the whole narrative together, though, is a powerful performance from Amy Booth-Steel as Britannia. Journeying from conquering inspiration to a charred and battered dream, this is a Britannia that not only leads her people but also the voice and conscious of her people.

Nicked is a valiant attempt to produce something new and topical in musical theatre but in its present form seems more like an overlong. Work on the repetitive score and rhyming lyrics and at least half the 2 hour 45 running time and there may be a longer term future for this show.

Ultimately in a show about our current political state recommending major cuts seems strangely apt and full circle.

Photo: The Company in Nicked at HighTide. Photo by Bill Knight

Dusk Rings A Bell - HighTide Festival Halesworth

Whatever happens to our teenage dreams and is it ever wise to revisit your past? Twenty four years ago Molly was going to be happily married with kids and free of her stammer, Ray was going to be a heart surgeon. A kiss on the boardwalk full of hope and promise.


Now, nearly a quarter of a century later, Molly returns to her home town to find a note she wrote to herself as a 14 year old. A chance meeting with Ray shows that neither’s dreams and ambitions have been realised, she works in communications despite having problems communicating herself and he is a caretaker and odd job man.

Stephen Belber’s Dusk Rings A Bell has its European debut at the fifth HighTide Festival in Suffolk and proves to be a powerful look at repressed memory and regret.

As the memories of their younger selves are reawakened, we get slowly begin to unravel the choices that have shaped the present and how one traumatic event in particular continues to overshadow any future relationship.

Belber’s writing is wonderfully evocative, mixing lengthy monologues with crisp duets to provide a deep insight into the thoughts of the characters. There is a real feeling of hope here, desperately trying to come to the surface but always forced back by the fear of failure and regret.

There is real chemistry between Katherine Kingsley and Paul Blair as Molly and Ray. Kingsley’s Molly a mix of vulnerability but also a cold inner steel, unable to forgive Ray for his past actions. Blair gives Ray a real depth and complexity, a mix of gentleness and reflection coupled with a darker side that subtly hints that the events of the past are not totally buried.

Steven Atkinson’s direction sensibly focuses on the emotion, making good use of Takis’ simple but beautifully effective reed clad boardwalk set. Although set in the USA, the use of reeds, so prevalent in the local Suffolk countryside, provides a gentle emotional link.

The decision to play the piece in traverse doesn’t always work with sections of dialogue played away from half the audience but, overall, it’s a strong production that serves the script well.

Performed in a deserted printing works, HighTide once again shows that theatre can be performed in a variety of spaces and this European Premiere of Dusk Rings A Bell reinforces their credentials of bringing quality new drama to local and national audiences.

Photo: Katherine Kinglsey and Paul Blair in Dusk Rings A Bell. Photo by Bill Knight

I Am The Wind - Young Vic

There seems to be an obsession with water at the Young Vic recently. Audiences for The Beauty Queen of Leenane had to brave a wall of water to get to their seats; children where drenched in And the Rain Falls Down, and now there is a watery set for I Am The Wind. Perhaps Thames Water should be approached as a new season sponsor.

I am The Wind is a truly international collaboration, an English Premiere of a Norwegian work by a French director - Jon Fosse’s original text has been translated by Simon Stephens and the whole is directed by Patrice Chereau.

On a vast empty beach of a stage, half flooded, a man enters soaking wet and barely conscious, his companion shares his jumper and a slow, stilted conversation ensues. One man talks of sailing his boat and the other reluctantly agrees to go on a voyage. They sail, they eat, the drink, the boat goes further out into the deeper ocean and one man returns to shore. Much like the ripple lighting effect that sweeps across the Young Vic auditorium, it’s a subtle text. There is much ambiguity in the piece. What is the relationship between the two characters, only named The One and The Other.

How much is real and how much imagined? What was the event that triggered the action? Sadly these questions are never answered in a production that asks much of an audience to answer themselves. While theatre often works best when it challenges an audience to work with the piece to gain a deeper understanding, rather than just sit as passive observers, it does require a strong script to engage the mind. Here, I Am The Wind falls down. Fosse’s and Stephens’ text does little to engage. There are strong echoes of Pinter and also Becket’s Waiting For Godot here, long pauses, stilted dialogue and unnatural dialogue. Much like Godot, much of the piece is waiting for something to happen. It never does.

This lack of narrative or clarity of plot does make it hard to engage or care for either character; in fact we never really get to understand anything of substance about either. Tom Brooke and Jack Laskey do try their best with the limited material and there is a touching simplicity in their performances as well as a strong chemistry between the two.

Richard Peduzzi’s set is a inventive use of the space and creates the only real moments of drama in the evening, combining motion and water for a visually impressive vista. Sadly Patrice Chereau’s direction doesn’t match the motion of the set and seems oddly static given the movement in the piece. For a short play of only 65 minutes, the pace at time seems deadly slow and hinders any growth of dramatic tension.

Fans of Pinter or Godot may find enjoyment in I Am The Wind but one suspects many will find this a bit of a damp squib that they cant wait to blow over.

Disclaimer: This is a review of a preview performance on 5th May 2011. The show's official press night is 10 May and changes may be made before then.
 
Photo: Tom Brooke, Jack Laskey in I Am The Wind. Photo by Simon Annand

A Passionate Woman - New Wolsey Theatre

Your only son is getting married in a few hours, you’re all dressed up and ready to go. So what do you do next? Well, if you’re Betty Derbyshire, a 50-something doting mother, you head to the loft and barricade yourself in.


Ok not typical Mother of the Groom behaviour but Betty is suffering something of a mid-life crisis. She realises that she is seen as a devoted wife and mother but not as an individual woman.

Kay Mellor’s A Passionate Woman is a deeply personal account of a woman torn between her conflicting emotions, based on her own mother’s real life.

Although outwardly happily married, deep down Betty still has feelings for a man with whom she had a brief affair, memories that the impending nuptials only serve to reawaken with vivid reality. Will she come out of the loft for her beloved son’s wedding and what else will she find hiding in the dark recesses, apart from the old Christmas decorations.

It’s all a poignant and emotional affair, made more so by the fact that the author herself is playing Betty. Mellor obviously has a deep affinity with the material and turns in a beautifully detailed performance. Her Betty is a woman battling to maintain a front of respectability and control when barely beneath the surface she just wants to revert to her younger 19-year-old self and dance along to her record collection. There is a nice subtlety in the performance, Mellor building the drama from a slow Shirley Valentine-esque monologue into a portrait of a woman barely clinging to reality.

Director Gareth Tudor Price reunites Mellor with the majority of the cast from his 2010 Hull Truck production of the play and it’s a company that works well together.

Anthony Lewis as groom-to-be Mark is a delightful mix of pre-wedding nerves, torn between his bride-to-be and his mother’s descent, in his view, into madness. There is real chemistry between Mellor and Lewis in the pivotal mother/son relationship, one that verges on the obsessive but totally believable.

Hollyoak’s stalwart Stuart Manning works well as Betty’s past secret lover, Craze, while a change to the company from Hull Truck, James Hornsby as husband Donald provides perhaps the strain of sanity in this highly-strung situation.

Tudor Price’s direction makes full use of Foxton’s spectacular designs, springing visual surprise after visual surprise. He also cleverly paces the piece to allow focus on the intimate and moving when necessary before pulling out to allow the more farcical elements full flight.

A Passionate Woman is a carefully crafted look at forgotten dreams and how the echoes of the past can still haunt the future. Mellor’s script and performance contain real warmth and of course passion but there is also a sense of melancholy and coldness just beneath the surface for what could have been.

Betty shows that there is more to her than meets the eye and, here, Kay Mellor emphasises there is more to her than a TV writer; she shows that she is both a stage writer and actress of considerable skill, able to put the rawest of human emotion onstage with a deceptive ease.

Photo: Stuart Manning, Kay Mellor and Anthony Lewis in A Passionate Woman. Photo by Mike Kwasniak

All's Well That Ends Well - Globe Theatre

Shakespeare’s ‘problem plays’ still frustrate scholars and directors over 400 years after they were penned. All’s Well That Ends Well is one such piece, classed in the problematic class due to the fact it’s never entirely clear what category it fits into, nor does the plot really work as a testament to the power of the Bard.

The tale of a commoner in love with a noble is a timely coincidence for the Globe. Helena loves the son of the Countess of Rousillon, Bertram. After curing the King of France she is offered the chance to marry any man of her choosing and so seizes the opportunity to choose Bertram. He’s not happy being cornered in this way and sets conditions for their marriage and then leaves for Italy hoping never to see Helena again.

It’s a complex plot and one that doesn’t entirely work. In many ways there seems to be two different plays here trying to compete and perhaps that explains why All’s Well is not one of Shakespeare’s most performed pieces.

Director John Dove goes for the comedic route, with a traditional and simple approach, making good use of the extended walkway into the yard and plenty of interaction with the groundlings. However, despite this lightness of approach it is a surprisingly heavy going evening and never fully surmounts the problems. The first half seems painfully slow and in need of some energy. This is rectified in the second half and the mood lifts but, overall, it seems an uneven production.

There are some nice performances from the company. Ellie Piercy combines the romance with a determined heart and works well with Janie Dee’s commanding Countess. James Garnon’s Parolles is a slippery delight and Sam Crane’s is a much more subtle Bertram than perhaps normally played.

There are some projection problems from the company at times, not only in competition with the passing jets but oddly also in quieter moments. It is early in the run so hopefully these matters will improve as the company re-acquaint themselves with the Globe.

The simple staging works to allow focus on the plot without distraction but conversely it does make for a flat comedy. While the approach does allow the verse to take centre stage the result is somewhat disengaging and it doesn’t always overcome that ‘problem play’ tag. Overall one comes out admiring the acting and the verse but never fully admiring All’s Well That Ends Well as a play.

Photo: Ellie Piercy and Janie Dee in All's Well That Ends Well

Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister - Theatre Royal Bury St Edmunds

Some plays seem destined to give theatre marketing departments a headache. How, for example, do you sell a one woman show based on the murder of the actress’ elder sister? Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister is that very challenge but, far from being a depressing evening, it turns out to be an evening of surprise laughter and reflection on the positives in life.

Rebecca Peyton’s sister, Kate, worked as producer for the BBC in South Africa. In 2005 she was sent to one of the most dangerous places on earth, Mogadishu, in Somalia. Her brief was to cover the country’s first signs of peace. While standing outside a hotel in Mogadishu, however, she was shot in the back and killed.

Sister Rebecca’s desire to create a play centred around these events may seem initially odd but the play is more than a look at Kate’s murder, it examines the ripples that spread to affect family and friends and the willingness of communities to help in the darkest circumstances.

There are no theatrical tricks here, just a chair and a table with a glass of water. Rebecca talks frankly and openly for over an hour on the process of grief and the emotional impact of the tragedy. What is surprising, though, is the amount of humour in the evening. Kate is not held up as some perfect icon; her sister makes jokes about her, about her funeral and how she would be jealous of seeing her sister now in the spotlight. All this makes the family’s bonds and relationships colourfully real.

There are some touchingly poignant moments. The section where Rebecca describes receiving Kate’s clothes, complete with blood-ringed bullet hole is pure raw grief while the vision of Rebecca fighting her mother over her wish to wear Kate’s off the shoulder evening dress for a ‘daytime’ funeral mixes poignancy with life affirmation.

There is also an interesting look at the unexpected impact of Kate’s death. The ability to use the situation for good, either by raising awareness of the number of journalists killed in the line of their work, or less worthy the ability to get a decent plumber. Rebecca’s frank confession that she would never have met some of the people she met without her sister’s murder is both honest and thought provoking. In this celebrity obsessed age, there is a more macabre side of fame we perhaps never think about.

Staged at the Theatre Royal Bury St Edmunds, this was perhaps a more emotional staging of Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister than any other date on the current tour. Kate and Rebecca grew up locally and many in the audience knew Kate. For those who knew her or not, Sometimes I Laugh Like My Sister is a wonderful tribute only to Kate but also as a celebration of human spirit. Despite the marketing problems, here is a show that far from being depressing is an uplifting and thought provoking look at the human spirit.