Direct from Broadway and originally written as a skit for a stag party, The Drowsy Chaperone (a musical within a comedy it claims) comes to London delivering 90 minutes of huge amounts of fun, though not quite the Elaine Paige star vehicle one might have imagined.
The show itself has a relatively simple plot, following the wedding day of pampered starlet Janet Van De Graaff who is about to give up show business to marry the dashing Robert Martin on the estate of ditzy Mrs Tottendale. Making life a little difficult for them is an array of odds and sods each with their own agendas, Janet’s producer who wants to stop the wedding, the outrageous Adolpho, Janet’s gin-drinking titular chaperone and a whole load of others beside. But where the show stands out is having it all narrated by Man in Chair. Continue reading “Review: The Drowsy Chaperone, Novello”
I was adamant that I didn’t want to see this production of Evita for so long and I am not really sure why. But having announced its closure and with some good ticket deals floating around, I finally took the plunge and boy, was I wrong. Central to this revival of the 1978 Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Tim Rice collaboration was the casting of the Argentinean Elena Roger to take on the title role of this rags to riches story of the second wife of Argentinean president Juan Perón, Eva Duarte, whose controversial rise to power captured the hearts of some, thoroughly alienated others but ensured her a lasting legacy as one of the most colourful political leaders.
From the opening number, I could feel something exciting happening, a certain energy on the stage, which then exploded in a joyous version of ‘Buenos Aires’ filled with ecstatic singing, tight Latin-inspired choreography and I just loved it, I was ready for giving a standing ovation from then on! The incorporation of a real Latin American feel into both the music and choreography gives the show a real injection of authenticity which lifts it into the stratosphere. Continue reading “Review: Evita, Adelphi”
The Rose Tattoo, one of Tennessee Williams’ earlier plays, is a life-affirming tale of sexual passion, love, betrayal and dealing with loss. Sadly, the original director Steven Pimlott died earlier this year, meaning Nicholas Hytner had to take up the reins at the National Theatre, working with his friend’s notes and paying tribute to his memory in a most fitting way.
Set in the Sicilian community in New Orleans, the story follows Serafina della Rose, an exotic seamstress who when widowed struggles to balance cherishing his memory with actually living life. She locks herself away and this affects her daughter Rosa from enjoying life too, but when a buffoonish, tattooed truck driver arrives in town, something inside Serafina begins to stir which is good timing for Rosa as a hunky sailor named Jack catches her eye. Continue reading “Review: The Rose Tattoo, National Theatre”
So, up to my third trip to Avenue Q now with yet another group of people to whom I have raved about this show: I feel I ought to get some kind of commission at this rate. This will be a short piece as you can read my earlier two reviews which cover the production in much more depth.
The only notable change is the first major cast replacement with Ann Harada, who came over from the New York cast when this first opened, leaving the role of Christmas Eve to be replaced with Naoko Mori, who is perhaps most famous from her role in Doctor Who spin-off Torchwood. Making a completely different visual impact and bringing a different comic sensibility to the part, Mori impressed despite perhaps not inspiring the same vocal confidence as Harada. Continue reading “Re-Review: Avenue Q again again! Noël Coward Theatre”
The Man of Mode is a Restoration comedy of 1676 by George Etheredge, but has been given a thorough makeover here by Nicholas Hytner in a modern-day version which is playing in the Olivier auditorium at the National Theatre.
The story centres around the bed-hopping Dorimant, played here by an often shirtless, toned tattooed Tom Hardy who in a nutshell, is sleeping with Mrs Loveit, but in the midst of dumping her to sleep with Belinda, but also hunting after Harriet whom he wants to marry. So we follow Dorimant and his motley crew of followers and hangers-on from party to fashion shoot to opening in their world of wealth and celebrity. Played against this is the story of one of the followers Bellair, who is trying to escape an arranged marriage so he can pursue his true love (who his father also fancies), setting this in as Asian community as both stories wind their way to farcical ends. Continue reading “Review: The Man of Mode, National Theatre”
Continuing the massive love-in that I have for Avenue Q, when I heard about this late night cabaret show by the cast on Valentine’s Day at the Delfont Room, I had no doubt in my mind about booking. And it was well worth it as it turned out to be a brilliant and hugely amusing night, full of great singing. It played as a total assortment of things, with cast members mixing up serious heartfelt renditions of songs with personal meaning to witty interpretations of songs from other songs, both solo and in groups and of course some serious puppet play as the more furry characters from Avenue Q also took time out of their busy schedules to give us a number or 3.
I didn’t take notes as we were stood up for the show and it was the kind of night where I just wanted to soak it all up and enjoy it with my partner for once. It may not have been the most romantic way to spend Valentine’s, although I don’t think we ever thought it would be as it was frequently hysterical. So this is more a recollection of highlights from the evening than a full review. Continue reading “Review: Avenue Q Lurvefest, Delfont Room”
Thérèse Raquin was originally a novel by Emile Zola but he adapted it into a play himself, though the version that is being put on here by Marianne Elliott at the National Theatre is one by Nicholas Wright, who worked absolute wonders translating Philip Pullman’s epic His Dark Materials trilogy into one of the best theatrical experiences of my life. The story follows the doomed antics of a couple embroiled in an adulterous affair and the devastating consequences of not being able to live with what they’ve done.
Maybe it was a consequence of not knowing the novel rather than it being a weakness of the play, but I didn’t like the fact that we entered the story at the mid-point, so that the love triangle had already mostly played out with Thérèse already tumbled for Laurent and Grivet cuckolded. I wanted to see more of this build-up to get a better sense of the characters and their motivations: as it was, I didn’t really believe in the erotic drive between the lovers, nor saw the side to the husband that forced such a dark decision as the one they carried out. Having to accept all this as a fait accompli and making the focus of the play the moral reaction to their dastardly deed felt slightly skewiff to me and this I didn’t much care for it, or them. Continue reading “Review: Thérèse Raquin, National Theatre”
Having seen and loved Acorn Antiques The Musical when it played in London, despite a few misgivings about the first half, I was keen to ensure that we saw the touring version when it was announced and it fit in well with my Christmas plans to go and see it at the Lowry in Salford. Victoria Wood had obviously taken the (somewhat harsh) reviews to heart though as she has performed some major surgery on the show and the whole conceit of the first half has been removed: we open straight into Manchesterford and the goings-on at the antique shop.
Some of the songs from that original first half have been shoehorned into the story, the tap number is great fun though a bit of a stretch having the am-dram society rehearsing in the shop and other ones shifted around a bit. It still made me laugh, but I must admit to not finding it quite as funny as I did the first time round. And I suppose this is largely to do with the fact that this is a new cast that has been put together for this tour, which features none of the main principles.
And I know it shouldn’t matter, the strength of the show should mean that any good actors can take us through it, but so much of the pleasure of the original was seeing the famous, familiar faces from the TV show reprising their roles, in particular Celia Imrie and Julie Walters, the latter’s Mrs O being so intertwined with herself that I found it impossible to imagine anyone else ever being able to perform the role. And I think that is what the producers also thought as Ria Jones who takes on the role here plays it as close to Walters as possible, which is probably for the best as she can really pull it off. I was less convinced by Sara Crowe’s Miss Babs and Teddy Kempner’s Clifford, but Lisa Peace’s Miss Berta and Beverly Rudd’s Mimi were good fun.
Expectations are often a killer and I think I let them get the better of me here, working myself into a state of excitement that was always unlikely to be matched. Though as the dvd of the original cast is now available, I might add that to my Christmas present list and see if it really was as good as I remembered first time round.
Directed and written by Irish playwright Conor McPherson making his National Theatre debut here, The Seafarer is not normally the type of play I would go and see, but the offer of a spare ticket and a few gin and tonics won me over to making a wee trip to the Cottesloe at the National Theatre before heading home for Christmas.
Aptly, the play is set on Christmas Eve in an anodyne suburb somewhere north of Dublin and focusing on the return of Sharkey, an alcoholic recently returned to live with (and look after) Richard, his suffering older brother who went blind after a drunken incident with a skip. Two of Richard’s hard-drinking buddies drop by for a game of poker, bringing with them the temptation of drinking and unhappy memories as one of them is now shacked up with Sharkey’s wife. They also bring the mysterious Mr Lockhart with them whose presence poses an altogether different challenge. Continue reading “Review: The Seafarer, National Theatre”
Much of the trumpeting around the arrival of the stage adaptation of the 1987 movie Dirty Dancing has been around its sensational advance box office takings, apparently the biggest in West End history. The film obviously holds a strong cachet amongst the 30-somethings who flocked to the cinema first time round, but I only hope that they emerge from the Aldwych theatre less appalled and dumb-founded than I that this has made it to the West End.
For those who aren’t aware, Dirty Dancing is a coming-of-age story, following the 17 year old Baby Houseman who is spending a family holiday in 1963 at a Butlins-type resort in upstate New York. She discovers love in the staff quarters there, her eye being particularly caught by the muscle-bound dance teacher Johnny. Continue reading “Review: Dirty Dancing, Aldwych”