Dennis Kelly and Tim Minchin at Matilda The Musical’s 10th Birthday. Photo: Ellie Kurtz
Revisiting long-running shows can lead to disappointment, but there was no chance of that at the Cambridge Theatre for the 10th anniversary gala performance of Matilda the Musical, developed and directed by Matthew Warchus and the RSC. The show is in excellent shape, with the latest cast more than the equal of their predecessors. Where the role of Matilda is concerned, some of those earlier performers were watching the performance, with an amazing 42 of them attending. The elation with which each of their numbers was greeted was then followed by them listening with rapt attention, probably eager to spot the small nuances which each talented (and well directed) performer brings to the role.
The adult performers were on fire too, whether that might be the amazing contortions of Matt Krzan as Rudolpho, or Sebastien Torkia, who manages to dilute the seediness of Mr Wormwood with an endearing lack of understanding. Opposite him is Annette McLaughlin, adding Mrs Wormwood to her roll call of great musical roles, and making the most of every line, song and high kick.
At Crunchem Hall, Landi Oshinowo is an endearing and authoritative Mrs Phelps, working well with her young co-star, and Carly Thoms is everything that is required as the saintly Miss Honey, and also has a crystal clear singing voice so that every word can be heard. The latest performer to take on Miss Trunchbull is Elliot Harper, and he is more than equal to the task. His Trunchbull is by turns wistful about her sporty past and determined to get her young charges in line, and he handles the setpieces like the punishments for the children and the awful PE lesson with aplomb.
The children, of course, are formidable as always. At the gala performance, Imogen Cole played the title role with intensity and determination, very much a force to be reckoned with. Around her, the other child performers and the adult ensemble worked together to put over the chorus numbers that are the great strengths of this piece. Peter Darling’s choreography, in particular, has a crispness and flourish which some other long-running shows would find difficult to match, and the atmosphere in the theatre, as a result, was electric. Frustratingly, the intricate and apt lyrics are not always clear and sometimes seem to be drowned out by the orchestra, at least from the Rear Stalls.
Much of the success of the show is down to Dahl’s story of course, and his ability to get inside the minds of children, but the involvement of key creatives to turn Matilda into a musical has also played a large part. Dennis Kelly’s book plays appropriate respect to the source material but also shapes it into a narrative that works as a satisfying theatrical experience. It was telling that he said during the speeches before the performance that he saw Matilda as “a little girl who just wasn’t going to put up with it” and that very much comes over in his book. Tim Minchin’s music and lyrics seem rooted in Dahl’s world, appropriate for a composer who himself grew up reading the stories and verse, and he paid tribute to the “hundreds of incredible people working for ten years” to put on the show.
Already playing around the world and recently touring the UK and Ireland, Matilda has already become a staple production (in its Junior version) at some of our more enterprising schools as well. I feel sure that the 10th anniversary is just the latest stage in the ongoing story of this phenomenal show and its ever-changing cast of talented performers.
Having not actually read D.H. Lawrence’s 20th Century scandalous-yet-popular novel, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, I wonder if it was a bad idea watching a comical parody of the book this week (currently touring to London ‘s Greenwich Theatre). One thing that isn’t in doubt is the hilarity of the piece, which was confirmed – from start to finish – by the thrilled audience on press night.
After a few checks to make sure the ‘parody’ was actually true(ish) to the book I can report that LCL is arguably the perfect story with which to base a comedy on. Performed by Happy Idiot theatre company, the four-hander plus a narrated voice – complete with minimal set and props – is quite brilliant and well worth a visit.
Written by Lawrence Russell, who takes on the role of Clifford Chatterley (husband of the infamous ‘Lady C) and confined to a wheelchair after being paralysed from the waist down during the First World War, the comedy looks easy like it’s all made up on the spot. But nothing could be further from the truth.
The trick here is of course not letting the ‘gag’ run dry. As soon as an audience grows tired of the big ‘joke’ then your show is doomed to fail. Not here. There is plenty of good writing and D.H. Lawrence’s storyline to wait for exactly the right moment to get the rug out (so to speak). The nude scene where a very buff Mellors (Wesley Griffith) and Constance (Christina Baston) name their balloon-like private parts ‘John Thomas’ and ‘Lady Jane’ respectively is inspired and well played out.
Baston makes an excellent leading lady, loud when necessary but also smouldering, and also I loved how Clifford has had a female dancer’s legs transplanted onto him – stockings and all (as if). Rebecca McClay has the tricky task of supporting the cast with the extremely loyal Mrs Bolton and delightfully doubles as Constance’s sister, Hilda.
It’s arguably no coincidence that the new musical version of this same story has also played in London so recently, but what the heck!
It’s all very silly, weirdly sexy, yet constantly funny.
Brian (Simon Lipkin) is a flyboy, very dodgy and the last person you need as a friend, especially when you’re down. Roger (Dan Skinner) is a vulnerable, decent chap but very miserable, prone to making bad decisions and the least perceptive person on the planet who never learns from experience.
The two have met at a meeting for divorced dads. And I laughed a great deal as Brian exploits Roger repeatedly while the latter, ever reasonable, goes along with his schemes which lead the pair of them into situations which get more and more outlandish – and hilarious. If I mention – wire cutters and a surplus toe, trekking mountains in China alone on a donkey, poker games in an abattoir, SM with Ophelia, bestiality and assisting a disappearing clairvoyant you will get the flavour. It’s an escalatingly episodic piece which sustains the craziness for 2 hours including an interval.
I was, moreover, fascinated by the structure which is reminiscent of an 18th Century epistolary novel such as Les Liaisons Dangereuses. But this is the 21st Century so instead of letters the entire piece consists of phone messages which we see the two characters leaving for each other. Only once – in what is probably the funniest, most farce-like scene of all – are Brian and Roger in the same space. And then we can’t see them because there’s a power cut. It’s a clever play in which the audience sees further than Roger, over and over again because it’s so clear what Brian is up to. The joke is that Roger is taken in: a simple but effective form of dramatic irony.
Lipkin excels as Brian – slippery, cajoling, ebullient and manipulative. The scene in which he has a appointment with his SM “therapist” is unforgettable and all set up through a window in the right-angled set – which the audience views from the other two sides of the square.
Dan Skinner brings a sensitivity and humourlessness to Roger which is really convincing. The acting is very naturalistic not least because we start with two men who seem quite grounded back in London where their lives are not going well. The deadpan way they sustain this naturalism into the realms of farce and comic books is part of what makes this show work.
Timothy Bird’s video designs are a big plus too. Projected onto the right-angled back screen are constantly changing images – a London street, a red light district in China, the GPS map of Chinese mountains with moving spot (donkey), an abattoir and so on. Often they flash up to illustrate what’s being said which is, in itself, funny. Many of them are absurdly bright and some have a three dimensional illusion.
Brian and Roger is a spin off. It began life as a series of podcasts by Harry Peacock and Dan Skinner who started improvising sketches as two divorced dads simply to amuse themselves before realising that perhaps they were on to something. That, obviously, is why the stage show is episodic but it doesn’t matter at all. I came to it “cold”, knowing nothing about the podcasts and had a good evening. Anything which makes me laugh as much as that more than earns the fourth star.
Mischief Theatre has certainly come a long way in its short thirteen-year meteoric rise to fame. From those early improv days in pub theatres and the Edinburgh Festival Fringe to the West End and BBC One glory, audiences simply love the crazy world of amateur theatre being sent up.
Of course, no genuine amateur theatre company would ever really create the level of ego and chaos that goes on in The Play That Goes Wrong – at least I hope not. But there’s the simple brilliance of Mischief Theatre. It’s the hilarity of accenting such madness to a fittingly mad level that people appear to love. Anything could, and usually does, happen.
The Play That Goes Wrong was, of course, the show that started Mischief’s ball rolling, paving the way for a string of similar style of shows… such as Peter Pan Goes Wrong, The Comedy About a Bank Robbery, Christmas Carol Goes Wrong, Magic Goes Wrong and Groan Ups – a number of which have also been adapted for the BBC, including the current Goes Wrong Show.
The Play That Goes Wrong is one of the productions from Mischief Theatre currently touring the UK and passing through Woking’s New Victoria Theatre this week. As such it features a new cast, but one that fits nicely with the original trio of writers. Once more, Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society is mounting Murder at Haversham Manor; a whodunnit that, you’ve guessed it, goes horribly wrong.
The flap in the door has vanished for other mayhem to ensue, and the slapstick is all still there by the bucketload. Amourous women are being knocked out by opening doors, then forced through windows in the most ungainly manner. Murders take place and floors collapse, before the entire set gives up. Yes, CPDS is certainly the worst theatre company in the world – even if the ego-driven Chris Bean does direct and star in the production.
It’s fun, it’s dangerous, it’s brilliant – and from what I heard behind me, Year Ten loved it too!
It’s Brighton in 1963. Recently sacked skiffle player Francis Henshall, desperate for a meal, becomes the minder and general manservant of not one but two unsavory types – a gangster, and the upper class buffoon who recently murdered him. In between managing the demands of two masters Francis must also pursue love and a good meal. There are shenanigans, misunderstandings, rubbish disguises, and the recipe for hummus. It has, eventually, to no-one’s surprise, a happy ending.
Written in 2011 as a vehicle for James Cordon (catapulting him to fame in America), One Man Two Guvnors has become a firm audience favourite. It draws (loosely) on Commedia dell’Arte, the knockabout performance form of the medieval and renaissance periods, to give us a high energy, rambunctious evening.
It’s not an easy play. It does make heavy demands on its cast, which makes Halifax Playhouse’s production all the more admirable. It seems unkind to single people out, but Luke Lortie, after what looked to be a rather low-key, almost shy start, found his feet and relaxed into a lovely comic performance. When he finally took control of the stage his Francis is a joy.
Davy Brewster’s Harry is a fine foil for Lortie, and Kyra Marie’s Dolly is a storming comic tour de force; nailing the Carry On energy of the piece, grabbing the stage by the scruff of the neck and gaining a cheer and a round of enthused applause for her monologue on garage design, which one imagines doesn’t happen very often. Her and Lortie’s comic energy together is, for me, the delight of the evening, and I genuinely hope to see them work together again soon.
Overall it is a strong cast. The production isn’t perfect, nothing is. The first half seemed to lack energy when I watched it on Wednesday. It wasn’t helped by what was for me an over crowded first scene – it’s all cast on stage at the beginning, which I’m sure works fine on the massive stage of the National Theatre where One Man, Two Guvnors was born, but on Halifax’s smaller stage it means I struggled to see what was going on, and actors deliver lines from behind other actors. I would have preferred a few less bodies on stage, and a clearer view of the play.
It bursts vibrantly into life in the second half. The second half was much, much stronger than the first. Actors are more relaxed and more playful, the whole thing crackles along. Whatever causes the diffidence of the first half does not do this very capable cast justice. The play is a little bit buttock-numbing, weighing in at nearly two and three quarter hours. Toward the end I had people tiptoeing past me whispering apologies about last trains. This is not helped by some very slow set changes.
It’s a hugely enjoyable evening. If the cast relax, and unleash in the first half the energy they found in tonight’s second half then it’ll be glorious. Tonight’s house was a bit thin, suffering a bit from what I strongly suspect is Covid Caution, but the Playhouse is clearly working hard to protect people. I will hope that this very, very credible production goes on to get the audience it deserves.
One Man, Two Guvnors is at Halifax Playhouse until Saturday 4th September 2021. Details and booking HERE
Austentatious, the Jane Austen-style improve troupe, are regulars in the upside-down purple cow at Underbelly Edinburgh, so it was good to see them following that bizarre performance venue to its current home at the London Wonderground in Earl’s Court. The format hasn’t changed, some of the cast were familiar (no names were provided), and they even had a backdrop.
As usual, we were greeted by the supposed Austen academic who reminded us of all the many lost Austen novels and asked us to call out the titles of some of them so they could choose one to enact. After considering Wuthering Prejudice (written on a variety of different papers that decompose as you read them) and Swipe and Swipeability (about which the less said the better), the decision was made to settle on Toast and Toastability, set as it turned out in an early incarnation of the Warburton’s bread factory.
The five performers, together with their inventive accompanist, told the story of two sisters, one of whom, Clarissa (sometimes known as Celeste) had never left her home. Despite this, love letters were arriving from Mr Warburton and we were soon taken to his bread factory. Taking place in Norfolk and Derby, as well as in a rather dubious layby on the A45, the narrative took some bewildering turns and was skilfully guided especially by the more experienced members of the troupe. They did this by signalling scene ends to each other or sudden flashbacks (or flash-forwards) but mostly by their experience of working together allowing them to know where a plot development might be leading – although the occasions on which they were surprised were often the highlights.
All the cast were more than up to the task, steeped in the Jane Austen style and able to include in their story everything from Covid hand-washing to non-disclosure agreements, not to mention a very, very tiny horse. The extent to which that horse became real for the audience, and indeed became a character in the story, was a tribute to the use of deft mime by this group, not just to tell the story but also to add to the gags.
It is remarkable how funny this group can be, even after so many shows, and this must be an indication of how much the Austen style is understood by British audiences of all ages. A full house certainly enjoyed Toast and Toastability and I am sure many of them will be back for more.
Have you ever been to a show where an audience member was handed a cross-bow and told to shoot a small child?
I hadn’t either, until last night.
Thankfully, the small child was a rather frightening-looking dummy stuck to a remote-controlled car, but that gives you just a taste of how ridiculous Sh*tfaced Shakespeare does Macbeth can get.
At the start of each show, one member of the five-piece cast is chosen to get, well, sh*tfaced, which is just as ridiculous and entertaining as it sounds. Whilst the troupe perform a just over an hour-long version of one of the most famous Shakespeare plays, they must deal with one member of the cast forgetting lines, improvising, and generally being snozzled.
It’s glaringly obvious which member this is from the start. This time it was James Murfitt, playing various roles, including Malcolm, who drew the short straw and got increasingly drunk throughout the show, making all kinds of off-the-cuff quips about The Guardian, medieval stairlifts, pizza delivery boys, and Duncan’s Jamaican bob-sled team.
I thought the cast did a fantastic job of picking up jokes and growing them, making sure the audience were in on the joke at all times. Despite the comedic nature of the entire thing, the cast did a stellar job of delivering powerful dialogue, particularly Stacey Norris as Lady Macbeth, and John Mitton as Macbeth.
There were moments of effective lighting, the sound effects during the Witches scenes made it a bit difficult to hear exactly what was going on and it was easy to miss the joke, but it definitely delivered a creepy atmosphere.
Overall it was a fantastic piece of comedy with a great concept that the cast seemed to genuinely enjoy, which made the audience enjoy it even more. With a different member of the cast playing the drunk every night, I could happily watch it again and again without getting bored or seeing the same jokes twice.
This glitteringly entertaining version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream delivers exactly what it says on the tin!
It lasts one hour and it wins its fifth star for its freshness and ingenuity.
Six actors and a folksy musician with concertina (Ollie King – warmly supportive) get together to perform a socially distanced dream so we start with Beshlie Thorp casting it in Peter Quince mode. Of course there’s much complaining, argument and silliness. Then we’re at Theseus’s court where actors send up both each other and what they’re doing – wheels within wheels within wheels.
It’s richly funny. The scene in which Lysander (George Readshaw) proposes to Hermia (Mofetoluwa Akande) with a ring before they go off to get lost in the woods is beautifully judged complete with latex gloves. And Harry Humberstone is the most hilarious mime artist I’ve seen in a long time, moving his wall as Snout and doing outlandish things with body and voice as Theseus/Oberon. James Camp is suitably dastardly as Demetrius and plays Bottom with an impressive range of funny faces and impeccable comic timing. Stage business with retractable steel rulers and make up brushes are the order of the day.
Broughton is a picture box English village and it was a privilege to review a play in yet another stunning setting (I saw Renaissance in the Bothy Garden at Stephens House and Garden the day before). About a hundred people attended, sitting in socially distanced bubbles. A good ‘house’ given the short notice at which this performance was arranged. Best of all was the number of children in the audience. One girl near me, maybe 10, laughed until she rattled and there were two little boys at the front, perhaps 7 and 5, who were utterly transfixed. In good hands Shakespeare works. QED.
This show was in preparation in March and would have toured. It has been revived and skilfully adapted so that it’s Covid compatible and runs with the humour of the situation we all find ourselves in. But in present circumstance there have been sadly few performances. There should be one more in Oxford next week unless new government restrictions prevent it.
