New blog!

I've moved!

For the same reviews and articles, but in a brand spanking new blog, see my new site at http://laurapeatman.wordpress.com/.

This site will stay live for a while, but all the new content will go up on the WordPress site, so that's the place to be from now on!

THEATRE REVIEW: Matilda the Musical

Cambridge Theatre, London

21 September 2013

now booking until December 2014

Matilda the Musical at the Cambridge Theatre
Photo: Laura Peatman

Matilda the Musical is one of the most talked-about musicals of the last few years, finding unprecedented success at the 2012 Oliviers with seven awards (since equalled by The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, one of my other all-time favourite shows). With the genius of Tim Minchin, enthusiasm of a young cast, mad costumes and brilliant staging, this is one of those shows where everything comes together to create magic. Forget the film, this is how the story of Matilda should be told.

Even the opening set that greets the audience on arrival establishes a sense of fun, with countless colourful wooden blocks that sprawl across the back wall and out of the proscenium arch, seemingly random but actually delightfully concealing words if you look carefully enough. This level of detail is present throughout, making it feel that real love and warmth has gone into this production. Everything from Mr Wormwood's suit, to the children's messy hairstyles, to the wide array of CCTV in Trunchbull's office has been carefully thought out and contributes to a show that just works, in the best way possible. 'School Song', with the alphabet hidden within the lyrics, is brilliantly staged, as letter blocks appear in the school gates just a split second before a chorus member steps onto it: it must have taken hours of rehearsal but appears effortless, as all great routines should.

There's a risk that a young cast, however talented, can appear precocious and start to grate a little: no fear of that here, as all the children are fantastic and complete naturals on stage. I can't think of many things more fun than being a kid in this show, and to be quite honest I'm immensely jealous of them all. Their singing, acting, and probably above all their dancing, put a huge smile on my face from start to finish – and when they rock out to 'Revolting Children', it confirms that they really are the stars here. At this particular performance, George King as Bruce Bogtrotter stole the show with his hilarious acting and rockstar-worthy opening to 'Revolting Children', while tiny Freddie Haggerty stole our hearts as Eric. Georgia Pemberton, in her first month as Matilda, took on the leading lady duties and is evidently proving herself a great addition to the cast. She is funny, heart-warming and mischievous, and at times heart-rending. And her Russian is impeccable, of course... (I'm not going to explain that one – no spoilers!). The role of Matilda has a lot of time alone on stage, and to pull this off at such a young age is undoubtedly impressive – and I'm sure the memories of receiving the applause in her solo curtain call will stay with all the Matildas for a long time, whatever their future career path.

Photo: Ben Tavener

Elsewhere the Wormwoods (James Clyde and Kay Murray) and Rudolpho (Joshua Lay, utterly unrecognisable from his headshot in the programme!) provide plenty of hilarity, while Alex Gaumond is fabulously horrible, and more than a little creepy, as the notorious Miss Trunchbull. The cast have great fun with the height difference between him and the children, and every movement and flinch is perfectly timed to create this funny but disturbing baddie.

There is some pretty puerile humour here – Bruce's prolonged description of his chocolatey belch springs to mind – but the show somehow still doesn't feel childish. About children yes; great for children to watch, also yes; but despite all this there's emotion in it that certainly appeals to adults as well. The shadow puppetry of the acrobat and the escapologist is simply beautiful, while the poignant scenes between Matilda and her parents really do tug at the heartstrings. Overarching the whole production is a great sense of being a child, being 'Naughty', and being free from rules and expectations, summed up in the gorgeous 'When I Grow Up', with its use of slides, swings and scooters. Matilda is surely the best new musical of recent years, and one that I could watch again and again and carry on smiling at. Fingers crossed it will stay in the West End for many more years to come!

THEATRE REVIEW: Our House

New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich

12 September - 5 October, then touring the UK until 23 November

Our House is by no means a household name when it comes to musicals, rather unfairly it seems. The show first hit the West End in 2002 to mixed reviews, but bagged the 2003 Oliver Award for Best Musical, and went on a national tour from 2008-9. Critic Mark Shenton has called it the best jukebox musical since Mamma Mia! as well as the most underrated – and now a new national tour by the New Wolsey Theatre Company is aiming to change that. Judging by the reaction of the audience, the show already has a lot of fans in the home of the company, Ipswich.

Tim Firth's show is based around the songs of ska kings Madness, and follows 16-year-old Joe through two alternative paths through his life, depending on a decision at the beginning of the story. This does make some early scenes a little confusing, as the action shifts rapidly between alternate realities of the plot (marked helpfully by Joe's two different outfits), but it gets into its stride after a while. The relatively small stage has the potential to create difficulties with the complex set – it's a bit different from the show's original home at the Cambridge Theatre, London – but the cast and creative team make the most of the space they have, and in actual fact the concentration of the cast's energy works in the production's favour.

The ensemble musical numbers are definitely the best element of the show. The cast have bags of energy, throwing themselves into the routines with boundless enthusiasm and a huge sense of fun, so songs such as 'Our House', 'Baggy Trousers' and 'Wings of a Dove' have you itching to get up there and join them. There were a few problems with sound balance meaning the lyrics sometimes got lost – although it's hard to tell if this was true for the whole audience, or just for those of us in the balcony – but this didn't harm the overall effect too much. The decisions to cast actor-musicians makes the music blend effortlessly into the show, as backing track and performers become one, really boosting the party atmosphere.

There are more touching scenes too, and Alexis Gerrerd as Joe manages to balance his cocky swagger with vulnerable moments, particularly in his obvious hurt pride and feelings of inferiority at seeing the better life Sarah (Danielle Bowen) has made for herself after leaving him behind. Switching quickly between the two possible lives of his character, not only does he manage the difference in personality with ease, but he has some lightning-quick costume changes that are deservedly greeted with applause. The two double acts of Emmo and Lewis (James Haggie and Alex Spinney) and Billie and Angie (Natasha Lewis and Dominique Planter), Joe and Sarah's loyal friends, provide plenty of comedy – particularly the girls, who are alternately over-excited by Sarah's life or distinctly underwhelmed by Joe's efforts.

The plot is a little flimsy at times: despite the justification within the script, it's hard to believe a 16-year-old would be sent to prison in those circumstances, for example. The Blood Brothers-esque presence of Joe's father is risky but avoids cliché through a strong performance by Sean Needham, who shies away from over-exaggerated mysticality. Parts of the show are a little cheesy, it's true, but these weaknesses are forgotten in the face of the raucous and joyous musical numbers that can't help but put you in a good mood. It's not the most intellectually stimulating of shows – but then who really looks for that in a musical? Showcasing a brilliant cast, Our House is a whole heap of fun and laughter that's certainly good for the soul.

'The Audience' and other stories: National Theatre Live

I'm almost starting to get confused between Helen Mirren and the Queen herself, so accustomed am I to seeing this great British leading lady playing our monarch. After the rave reviews of the 2012 film The Queen, Mirren has donned the crown once again in this new play by Skyfall co-writer Peter Morgan.

Of course by now it's not entirely new, as this stage production hit the West End back in February, and was first broadcast to cinemas across the UK on 13 June. But the wonderful team at National Theatre Live have included this broadcast from the Gielgud Theatre in a series of  'encore' screenings, as the National celebrates its 50th anniversary this year.

Mirren excels once again in this wonderful production. She is full of charm, warmth, wit and, most impressively for a character whose inner thoughts we know so little about, depth. Presenting a series of imagined conversations between Her Majesty and a selection of her many prime ministers, The Audience covers a wide array of political events, which are fascinating when refracted through this semi-fictional lens, but never feels like merely a history lesson. It might be beneficial if you have a basic grasp of 20th century politics and history – with references to the Suez crisis, miners' strikes and rationing scattered across the script – but it doesn't really matter too much. What shines through is the personal, human emotion of these figures of power. There are laughs aplenty – the bumbling Harold Wilson (affectionately and wonderfully portrayed by Richard McCabe) and hilariously accurate depictions of David Cameron and Gordon Brown  by Rufus Wright and Nathaniel Parker stand out – but also moments of poignancy, achieved through a clever script and a beautifully understated yet powerful performance by Mirren. She delivers so much in a look, in a gesture, that even in the restrained – and supposedly politically neutral – character of the queen, we feel the wealth of swirling emotions beneath the polished exterior.

Notable potential targets of this drama are absent: Tony Blair is absent from the script, reportedly at the request of producer Andy Harries, as is the death of Princess Diana. Yet the scenes are cleverly chosen, and intelligently ordered. From the first, splendidly regal appearance of Mirren, clad in a gorgeous royal blue, we subsequently jump backwards in time to the queen's first ever audience – with, of course, the traditional and experienced Winston Churchill (Edward Fox). Her naivety and lack of certainty in the face of Churchill's old-school formality is touching, and helps to round out the character beyond the Queen we all recognise today. Also immensely pleasing is the forceful discussion with Margaret Thatcher, terrifically played by Haydn Gwynne. Although the subject of the meeting is tense, there is something incredibly joyous and brilliant about seeing this meeting of two of the most commanding women in British history – and the audience's reaction proves it.

This is a brilliant production, and it's wonderful that so many more people are able to experience it through the National Theatre Live project. Although there are some great ticket offers out there, particularly for young people and local residents, the cost of West End theatre is still a barrier to many people, especially when you add the price of travelling to London. Compared to that, a £10 trip to the cinema down the road is a pretty good alternative! I'll always prefer live theatre performance, as you unavoidably lose a great deal of the connection between audience and actor when viewing a screen; but National Theatre Live certainly provides the next best thing. When a show is a sell-out it gives access to an even bigger audience, and I for one am hugely excited about the upcoming programme of 'encore' screenings, which will give me the chance to see some of the National's best recent productions that I missed out on the first time around!

National Theatre Live: 50th Anniversary Encore Screenings  trailer

National Theatre

Fresh from his spellbinding performance as Iago in the National Theatre's Othello (which was broadcast live on 26 September), Rory Kinnear's critically-acclaimed turn as Hamlet will be shown on 22 October. Described as "an evening to admire and cherish" by Michael Billington, Nicholas Hytner's adaptation moves the action to a present day Elsinore where constant surveillance means even the famed soliloquies are always under scrutiny by a hidden audience.

Creepy in a different way – and probably the screening I'm most excited about! – Frankenstein comes to cinemas from 31 October, giving those of us who didn't make it to the theatre a chance to see Jonny Lee Miller and Benedict Cumberbatch in Danny Boyle's 2011 "monster hit" (credit to TimeOut London for that pun). Both combinations of cast are being broadcast on separate dates, as Miller and Cumberbatch alternated for the original run, but either should be a terrific watch. My instinct says I'd prefer Miller as the creature and Cumberbatch as Frankenstein... either way, I can't wait to finally see this Olivier award-winning production that I mourned missing two years ago.

Also appearing in the Encore season is Alan Bennett's The Habit of Art, featuring Frances de la Tour, Alex Jennings and the glorious, much-missed Richard Griffiths, while new broadcasts include, amongst others, the underrated Shakespeare tragedy Coriolanus starring Tom Hiddlestone, and the celebrated War Horse. The latter is one I'd rather see in the flesh, as it looks to be running in London for a good while to come yet: the magic of the puppetry is surely unbeatable on stage, but as I've said, the opportunity to see this hit show for a few quid in your local town is fantastic – and based on the success of the book, film and stage adaptation, the cinemas are sure to be packed out!

With an increasing number of musicals, plays and operas being broadcast at cinemas on a regular basis, here's hoping that the National Theatre Live continues to take the lead on this great idea, bringing Britain's wonderful theatre to more and more people around the country.

EDINBURGH FRINGE 2013: REVIEW: All or Nothing?

Callàs Company

Greenside Venue

5 Aug 2013

runs until 24 Aug 2013

Going along to this show encompasses what I love about the Fringe. A random conversation with a theatregoer at C venues led to my and friend and I making a mad dash to see his show at Greenside on our lunch break, with very little idea of what it would be like. As it turns out, this is one of my favourite shows of the Fringe so far — funny, charming, lacking in pretension and altogether wonderful.

The concept works beautifully: two characters live in a silent world, one in the realm of imagination and mime, and the other in the realm of physical reality. They meet, become friends, fall in love. It sounds a bit too simple to engage your attention, but the characters' discovery of each other's worlds is imaginative and witty, as mutual bafflement raises many a laugh. James Callàs Ball and Jasmine Blackborow's mime is a joy to watch as the invisible, imaginary world is effortlessly brought to life through their performance, bringing humour to this light-hearted production without becoming over-exaggerated. It is, strangely, an utterly believable show despite its surreal plot.

Being only forty minutes, the show is a neat little production but should not be overlooked in the Fringe's saturated programme, being well-constructed and faultlessly performed by a talented cast of two, in a new company making its début at the Fringe. The jazz soundtrack is reminiscent of the silent movies of the 1930s, but with a fresh twist and beat which helps to keep the pace quick and light. A spot of audience participation at the curtain call means I can now say I have (technically) performed on a Fringe stage, so extra thanks must go to them for that!

A definite recommendation for theatregoers of all ages: I defy you to leave without a smile on your face.

THEATRE REVIEW: Othello

directed by Nicholas Hytner

Olivier Theatre, National Theatre

14 July 2013

until 5 Oct 2013

National Theatre Live Trailer

I'll admit it: in the past, I've struggled with Othello. Never having seen it on stage, reading it on the page fell rather short of summoning up its wrought emotion and passion that I'd heard so much about. That all changed on this Sunday afternoon. This is absolute proof of what I've always said: that reading Shakespeare will always, inevitably, miss the mark somewhat — it's written to be performed, and the cast of this National Theatre production deliver one hell of a performance.

The aggressive, pumping music that builds around the auditorium of the Olivier Theatre sets up the driving pulse of this forceful show. During the first few scenes, those audience members unfamiliar with the play are in danger of getting lost, but once the production gets into its stride you can't help but be swept along in its imperious and earthy power.

The setting of the modern military base sets up and follows through on all the vital aspects of the plot in an incredibly neat way - the comradeship that is necessary for Othello to believe Iago's lies, the violence always simmering near the surface, the marked fragility of Desdemona next to the soldiers, the importance of rank and hierarchy that provokes such envy... There is never a moment in which the play feels squeezed into this mould; rather, it seems a perfect fit. Yet at the same time it illuminates this oft-delivered script in surprising and new ways, which the cast grasp and take forward with relish, finding comedy in this tale of jealousy, bitterness and revenge. 

Adrian Lester takes on the title role with relish, delivering a stirring performances with subtleties of every feeling: forceful, passionate, brutal, pained - his emotion burned out from the stage. Quite simply, he was everything you could ask for from your Othello. Yet Rory Kinnear (as Iago) is more than you could possibly want. His staggeringly good performance steals the show, being appropriately dastardly and brilliantly two-faced; yet it is his sardonic humour that puts Kinnear's own stamp on the role, as his bitter sarcasm raises many a laugh - and let's face it, it's not a play where there is usually much to laugh about. Shifting effortlessly between smooth lies and shuddering hatred for Othello, this is a masterful performance. His on-stage chemistry with Lester was brittle with sparky emotion, but it is his exchanges with Roderigo (Tom Robertson) that show off this talent for comedy. While Robertson's rather pathetic posh-boy act may have been an easy route to a laugh, the characterisation also establishes the necessary hierarchy of power with ease.

Elsewhere, Broadchurch's Jonathan Bailey shows surprising mettle as Cassio, presenting light-hearted humour but also deep pathos that catches the audiences off-guard, as an innocent caught up in the machinations of Iago. Newcomer Olivia Vinall makes for a spirited yet suitably naive Desdemona, her girlishness standing out amongst the camouflage of the army. Particularly impressive is Lyndsey Marshal as Emilia: fiery yet nuanced, she starts off rather in the background but capitalises on her character's plot arc to blaze into the heart of the gory action in the final scenes.

The large stage of the Olivier Theatre is turned into a well-crafted set that conjures up the claustrophobic intensity of the army camp and the box like sets which glide on and off stage neatly set up the interlocking arms of Iago's plan, also helping to focus the audience's eye on this expanse of stage.

Nicholas Hynter's production may have a rather long running time, but the audience are gripped from start to finish. There is earthy, raw emotion here, but it does not lose the grandeur of Shakespearean tragedy: Hytner has struck the perfect balance with his faultless cast. The final moments capture a devastating futility as Othello finally comprehends his wife's innocence and the utter waste of life which can not be undone. Unmissable.

Edinburgh Fringe 2013: Pre-festival Picks

Photo by byronv2 under Creative Commons licence

Doesn't time fly! It's nearly that time of year again — when actors, directors, singers, comedians, writers, dancers, ventriloquists, poets, acrobats and performers of all kinds make the trek to Scotland's capital to try their luck at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. And the rest of us follow, whether we're a part of the action, reviewing their efforts, or simply enjoying it from a safe (we hope...) vantage point in the audience. As the world's biggest arts festival grows steadily each year, 2013 will see more shows than ever gracing Edinburgh's venues: at the last count, 2871 events encompassing over 24,000 performers.

With all those options offering thousands of different emotions, experiences and possibilities, how on earth do you separate the good, the bad and the ugly from your Fringe guide? I decided to come up with a Top 10 list of intriguing, promising or exciting things from this year's festival — except, of course, there's too much to choose from so even I had to resort to a Top 15 instead. Check 'em out:

1. I Need A Doctor: The Unauthorised Whosical Adventure — Stormy Teacup Theatre Ltd./Pleasance Courtyard/31 Jul – 26 Aug/£6-11
Being a massive fan of Doctor Who and of musicals, I couldn't really ignore this one. A parody of the beloved BBC One series with songs such as 'Companion's Lament' and 'Phonebox of Love', this is possibly the nerdiest show on the programme, but looks to be providing a healthy dose of silliness at the Pleasance Courtyard this year.

2. Titus Andronicus — Hiraeth Artistic Productions/theSpace@Surgeons Hall/2 – 24 Aug/£10-12
Shakespeare reinvented can go either of two ways, but this production may be on to an intelligent restaging. One of four productions of Titus Andronicus at the Fringe this year, this particular version reimagines the action of the Bard's goriest tragedy in the midst of 1980s Britain. It's a tough play to pull off, with all its over-the-top blood and guts — but in the violence of skinhead culture, the extreme emotions that lead to all this anger, vengeance and bloodshed start to make sense, and to really hit home.

3. Austentatious: An Improvised Jane Austen Novel — Milk Monitors/Laughing Horse @ The Counting House/1 – 25 Aug/Free Non-Ticketed
Anyone who read my blog during last year's Fringe may remember how I raved about this lot — and I'm so happy to say they're back! Some of the best improv you'll see in terms of quickness and hilarity, and all Austen-themed. Austentatious manages to mock the author's stereotypes whilst showing it holds much affection for her, and based on audience suggestions they construct a brand new Austen novel every day. Last year crowds were queuing down the street to see this, so arrive early! It's lovely, and pretty astounding, to see that the show is still part of the Free Fringe, as I'm sure the troupe could sell out a ticketed event with no problems. A hugely likeable comedy group who will have you in stitches.

4. Rachel Parris: The Commission — Laughing Horse @ The Counting House/1 – 25 Aug/Free Non-Ticketed
Following on from Austentatious, many of their members are involved in other shows at the festival, including the delightful Rachel Parris. Often taking the role of naive, pretty heroine in the Austen-themed tales, her solo performance is a chance to see a wider range of her comedic and musical skills, with topics such as Disney and The X Factor on the promised list of targets. It will be great to see this talented performer showing she's got a darker side and some real bite.

5. No Place Like — Le Mot Juste/Zoo/2 – 26 Aug/£4-9
A piece of physical, verbatim theatre inspired by real-life conversations, this work examines the lives of elderly care home residents: it's nice to see that the play promotes itself as "a celebration of life", rather than presenting these places as morbid or depressing, and there is the promise of comedy as well as poignancy in the variety of memories that emerge.

6. The Pin — Pleasance Courtyard/31 July – 26 Aug/£6-11
Again, this show is no new discovery for me as I saw these guys doing their thing — with much success, I might add — at university in Cambridge. Since then they've been busy making a name for themselves with a sell-out run at last year's Fringe. However, things have changed recently as the trio has become a duo: it'll be interesting to see how this changes their act, but with their usual combination of wit, silliness and deadpan delivery, booking early will surely still be necessary for these rising stars of the circuit.

7. Boys — No Prophet Theatre Company &  Close Up Theatre/C aquila/1 – 26 Aug/£6.50-10.50
Last year No Prophet Theatre (starring Will Merrick of Skins fame) took on Simon Stephens' gritty shocker of a play, Punk Rock. And damn, was it good. They're following up that edge-of-the-seat performance this year with dark comedy Boys, also focusing on a group of adolescents, this time on the edge of adulthood as they graduate from university. Its "drug-fuelled irresponsibility" recalls the glory days of Skins, but No Prophet's 2012 production certainly showed that this group were not going to rely on the TV fame of one of their number. If the ensemble deliver as much electricity as last year, this will be one not to miss.

8. Nirbhaya — Assembly, Riverside Studios & Poorna Jagannathan/Assembly Hall/1 – 26 Aug/£10-16
Yael Farber took Edinburgh by storm in 2012, with a sell-out run for her searingly passionate and volatile Mies Julie, a South African adaptation of Strindberg's 19th century classic that became the hot ticket of the festival. This summer she returns with a piece of new writing, which is set to be even more blisteringly gut-wrenching. Nirbhaya is inspired by the gang rape and murder of Jyoti Singh Pandey in Delhi in 2012, which opened the floodgates for revelations about the brutal treatment of women in India; Nirbhaya (one of the pseudonyms used in the press for the victim, meaning 'fearless one') attempts to break through the silence that surrounded the issue. Mies Julie was the most powerful piece of theatre I have ever seen, and if Farber brings the same extraordinary rawness and explosiveness to these real-life events, it is sure to rock the Fringe this summer.

9. Dick Whittington — University of Bristol Pantomime Society/theSpace on North Bridge/2 – 17 Aug Aug/£4-7
Ok, ok — I'm a bit biased. There's a small chance one of my loveliest best friends is starring in this. Nevertheless it's also a great option if you want a bit of good old-fashioned fun and silliness with a healthy dose of grown-up wit and humour. These students from Bristol are experts at serving up everything you'd expect from a panto, but with added extras and without too much of the cheese on top. With romance, songs and a dastardly villain, this is sure to put a smile on your face — plus it's great value for money!

10. Voices Made Night — The Magnet Theatre Company & Baxter Theatre Centre/Assembly Hall/1 – 26 Aug/£10-15
It seems that South African theatre is showing us all how it's done. Here the nation's top physical theatre company arrive in Edinburgh with their adaptations of the short stories of Mozambican author, Mia Couto. Described previously as "the cutting edge of South African art and culture", this company seek to relate his tales of love, loss, transformation, damage and forgiveness through the use of physical theatre and ever-changing characterisation and movement. Expect theatre that is passionate, moving and altogether beautiful.

11. Our Glass House — Common Wealth/Summerhall/13 – 25 Aug/Free Ticketed
Promenade and site-specific theatre are always to be found scattered across a fringe festival, and can work either fantastically or terribly. A promenade piece always feels like a risky choice, as the directorial decisions are so different to those of a conventional narrative work. Yet if the effect is truly immersive, it can be incredibly powerful. One such production, which certainly has the potential to be uncomfortable in either a good or bad way, is Our Glass House, a new work exploring domestic abuse. Staging this in a residential house should bring home (literally) the reality of this issue, as it is seen in its true setting rather than within the artifice of a theatre. Using fantasy, songs and choreography, there are a lot of elements in this — it has the potential to be too fragmented to deliver real energy or power, but if it is judged right it could be a truly eye-opening and compelling work.

12. Alice in Wonderland — Oxford University Dramatic Society/C nova/31 Jul – 26 Aug/£4.50-10.50
Having taken on the tricky tale of a murderess, Machinal, at last year's Fringe, OUDS are back with the rather lighter offering of Alice in Wonderland. Bringing out the vibrant insanity and twisty darkness of Lewis Carroll's classic children's novel, this adaptation throws you right into the world of the Mad Hatter and all his weird and wonderful companions — jump down the rabbit hole if you dare!

13. Nish Kumar is a Comedian — Nish Kumar/Underbelly, Bristo Square/31 Jul – 25 Aug/£6-11
After catching him guest-performing at the Footlights Free Show last year (one to look out for, by the way), I was impressed by Nish Kumar's set. Charming, witty, fresh and sharp, he delivers easy gags that nonetheless have a bite to them: certainly a name to keep an eye on, his one-hour show at Underbelly will be a tenner well spent!

14. Desperately Seeking the Exit — Peter Michael Marino/Laughing Horse @ The Counting House/1 – 25 Aug/Free Non-Ticketed
When you've invested a whole heap of time and money into a new West End musical and it closes within a month, you might lock yourself in your house and weep for a year, hiding from the embarrassment and despondency that might accompany such a flop — certainly, you might hide from the critics who gave it a panning. Peter Michael Marino has done no such thing: when Desperately Seeking Susan (the plot of the Madonna film of the same name, with the hits of Blondie crammed unceremoniously into it) turned out to be a bit of an epic fail back in 2007, Marino turned the situation to his advantage. Taking his new show's title from a damning review by Charles Spencer, Desperately Seeking the Exit tells the tale of how his musical flopped so badly, turning a theatrical car crash into an original, brutally honest, camp yet sensitive comedy. A phoenix of a show — from the ashes comes a new triumph.

15. Jonny and the Baptists: Bigger Than Judas — Pleasance Dome/31 July – 26 Aug/£6-10
Some musical comedy to round up my picks of the programme. Last year while editing Ed Fringe Review, my co-editor and I discovered this band and listened to their hilarious album on repeat in times of stress. With catchy tunes, sharp satire and a dash of absolute nonsense, Jonny and the Baptists make you laugh even more each time you hear their songs, as you pick up subtleties and asides that may have slipped by you the first time. More than one visit is a must!

THEATRE REVIEW: Happy New

21 June 2013

Trafalgar Studios

until 29 June 2013

Trailer: HappyNew2013

It’s hard to explain the plot of this play without making it sound totally farcical, but here goes — on New Year's Eve, two brothers are facing up to the long-term effects caused by their abandonment in a chicken coop. Yes, I know. Yet Brendan Cowell makes this an utterly convincing tale, as Danny (William Troughton) and Lyle (Joel Samuels) struggle to rehabilitate themselves into everyday life many years after this unusual form of childhood trauma: they seek the ironically-labelled 'Australian Dream', but fear to leave their apartment.

Cowell’s script crackles into life: it is extremely wordy, but high energy performances ensure that nothing of the dense dialogue is wasted as words fizz and tumble across the stage. Troughton and Samuels are a great double act, their energies bouncing off each other as they negotiate the intricate script with apparent ease. Their conversation is somehow macho and camp all at the same time — treated seriously, but eliciting plenty of laughs; hinting at a fractured past, but creating a seamless partnership. It is the arrival of Pru (Lisa Dillon), however, which really injects fire into this production. Her bitter, angry rant is definitely the funniest ‘scorned woman’ I’ve seen on stage, as her fury at Danny’s betrayal provokes a stream of insults and outrage delivered with hilarious ferocity and flouncing. Dillon certainly starts as she means to go on, as she steals the show throughout this fast-paced production.

Even if you didn't know already, there is something about Happy New that is distinctly not British. This is not to take anything away from our home-grown talent, but there is speed and sparkiness in this piece which marks it out from the crowd — as well as a certain brashness and bravery which enables this concept and its densely-packed script to succeed. Australian writer and director of the play Brendan Cowell was in the audience on this occasion (which preceded a Q&A session that I was sadly unable to stick around for — I would have loved to hear more about the thinking behind this piece) and it was a joy to seem him enjoying his work as much as anyone else. He has exuberant talent which still has room to develop if he continues to have such strong casts alongside him.

Brendan Cowell

Photo: Eva Rinaldi

In the later stages of the play, Lily Arnold's set design intelligently recreates the chicken coop from the brother's apartment, in which they now imprison themselves. Seeing this flashback enables the audience to disentangle some of the mystery behind the trauma, and the interjections of Pru's news reports and interviews are darkly comic. Yet is from this point onwards that the play starts to drag: having seen their past, it does not seem to take us anywhere new when we return to Danny and Lyle's present, and the rather complex plot arc gets stuck. The last section loses the vivacity that is so vital in carrying the wordy script, and energy fizzles out. It is sad that Brendan Cowell has made the all-too-common error of stretching this play beyond its potential: it is important to know when to stop, to preserve the fizz and energy before it lags. I could feel myself getting restless — such a shame for a performance that had me immersed and intrigued up until this point.

Happy New has the perfect mix of darkness and light: at times it is very funny indeed, but there are serious elements here which prevent this from becoming too frothy or farcical. When Danny and Lyle fall back into their chicken-like ways, with uncontrollable clucks and jerks of the head, somehow nobody laughs: the quiet, uncomfortable horror of the situation is apparent. The fact that the tone is pitched so perfectly, and that the cast — particularly Lisa Dillon and Joel Samuels — have a sharp and energetic grasp on their challenging dialogue, means that its wordiness and its over-long duration can just about be forgiven. It may need a little editing, but this cracker of a play is certainly worth crossing the road for.

FILM REVIEW: The Great Gatsby

directed by Baz Luhrmann

starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Carey Mulligan, Tobey Maguire, Joel Edgerton and Isla Fisher

11 June 2013 (seen in 2D)

Official Trailer courtesy of Warner Bros.

For many, Jack Clayton's 1974 adaptation of The Great Gatbsy, starring Robert Redford and Mia Farrow, will always be the definitive movie version. So with Baz Lurhmann taking on the classic story of the failed American Dream, there was always bound to be some controversy: after all, Luhrmann isn't exactly renowned for this traditional tale-telling, as we all know from his Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge. To enjoy this particular adaptation, then, it sadly is necessary to forget the book — and undoubtedly to forget the Clayton film — as once again the flamboyant director brings his own brand of spectacle and sparkle to the Gatsby story.

With plenty of soft focus shots, anachronistic but catchy music and pure over-indulgence, The Great Gatsby certainly is a treat for the senses. The party scenes that grabbed our attention in the trailer are reeled off in full force, crammed with wildness and temptations that really do make you wish you were there. The soundtrack divides opinion (my companion at the cinema seemed most unimpressed with the idea of Jay-Z turning up in the 1920s...), but the presence of rap and hip-hop alongside jazz elements in fact captures some of the spirit of this age, yet reflects it through a modern lens. Rap and hip hop can be seen as the music of rebellion: styles which teenagers adore and parents detest, which divide generations — not all that different from the raucous jazz so beloved by the flappers of the Roaring Twenties.

Many criticisms have been levelled at the film since its first screening, but surely there can be no doubting the lead performances. Tobey Maguire (Nick Carraway) does 'tortured soul' very well in the new framing narrative, and manages to epitomise the optimism of the American Dream without becoming sickly-sweet or clichéd. Carey Mulligan's (Daisy Buchanan) early charm gives way to a cold stillness very effectively by the film's climax; Mulligan lures the audience into sympathy for Daisy, around whom all the film's most potent emotions revolve, before shocking them with her distant aloofness in her final scenes. It is  a reminder of the shallowness of people which this film seems to reveal. Elsewhere, scene-stealers Isla Fisher (Myrtle Wilson) and Jason Clarke (George Wilson) give fantastic comic and tragic performances, but feel sadly underused: considering how much the film drags at certain points, it would have benefited from a bit more screen time from this pair of electrifying actors.

In the end, though, the film belongs to Leonardo DiCaprio. Looking staggeringly young and unarguably handsome, he explores all sides of Gatsby's enigmatic character with sensitivity and intelligence, maintaining that vital air of mystery throughout while allowing us an insight to the pains and joys of his life. While Luhrmann at times goes beyond over-the-top — the number of shots of DiCaprio's smiling face bathed in soft sunlight, backed by a glittering soirée of excess, or framed by fireworks is frankly outrageous — DiCaprio somehow pulls it all off and carries the film with an impressive performance. He really is a "great" Gatsby.

Yet for all its visual pleasure (DiCaprio included, I must confess...), the gorgeousness of the New York and Long Island scenery becomes a drawback to the film itself. There are so many CGI backdrops and swooping, brightly-lit and highly-coloured shots of the city, that the whole thing seems totally unreal. This is perfect for the fantasy and escapism of the hedonistic parties, notably the drunken haze of Myrtle Wilson's apartment romp, but it undermines the tragedy of the piece. It is beautiful, yes, but the dream-like appearance of the film means there is nothing real or grounded about it which could make the tragedy feel genuine, and therefore truly moving. Presumably this is the intention behind the starkly contrasting framing narrative, but the device doesn't have enough impact to make a difference.

It is no doubt this dreamy sheen that has caused the complaints of a lack of depth in the film. This by itself is rather problematic, but could be over-looked if the plot has been structured with enough strength and power. Yet there are sections which are dragged out beyond their potential, and the whole thing feels too long, diminishing the suspense even as it is created. As events build to the climactic moment of the car crash, the overpowering heat and tension of the New York summer are evoked beautifully; yet the scenes are too drawn out, and this pressure is wasted.

This is an enjoyable adaptation, despite the criticisms of die-hard Gatsby fans: it is certainly more satisfying to view it as a stand-alone movie rather than a representation of Fitzgerald's novel. Yet the over-indulgence of the parties is continued into some self-indulgent directorial decisions, and the film's length and unreal, almost unnatural qualities undermine the powerful performances on display. It looks beautiful and is an entertaining watch, but in being so Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby sacrifices something to really get your teeth into.

THEATRE REVIEW: Peter And Alice

Noel Coward Theatre

Tue 7 May

until 1 June

Trailer: Peter and Alice courtesy of Michael Grandage

Two shows in, the inaugural season of the Michael Grandage Company is already set to be a roaring success. John Logan's new play starring Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw has been much-publicised, and the fact that the run has been a sell-out is no doubt due in no small part to these two high profile leads. But the hidden star is surely Christopher Oram – the design of the opening scene is exquisite, seemingly simple when you first glance at it, but delightful as the eye peruses it. Not having the curtain down before the start of the play is a lovely way to show off Oram's work: the dusty old bookshop holds lots of detail on its many shelves, contrasting its shades of drabness against the colourful lives that soon arrive into it.

This beautifully-crafted yet ordinary setting soon gives way to a world of fantasy and memory, as the stage opens up and layers of time and imagination build up and shift. This play is hard to pin down as we flit from reality to fantasy, from present to past. The script leads us in this oscillating journey: at first, it is light and brisk, albeit with an edge. Dench's one-liners could really only have been written for her, with their steely humour and hint of a twinkle even in their brusqueness. Whishaw is allotted more of the meandering prose and, although it is sometimes tricky to follow even in Whishaw's fantastic performance, as the characters develop it makes sense: Peter Llewelyn Davies (Whishaw) lacks the acceptance and stoicism which Alice Liddell Hargreaves (Judi Dench) has built up, even through her troubled times.

As the final cheers of the curtain call died away, an audience member to my right mused that "there was a really good play in there somewhere – but I couldn't tell you what it was". Although this seems a little negative, I could see his point: this is a tricky play to get a hold of, as expectations and preconceptions are constantly derailed as the production takes us in suprising directions, often in winding dialogue. For this reason it isn't the most satisfying play you can see in the West End, perhaps simply because the script is a little wordy and there are too many elements trying to co-exist in it. Yet it is still an enjoyable evening of theatre, and this struggle to grasp at the elusive heart of the play makes for an intriguing puzzle. There can be no doubting the quality of work of the two leads: Whishaw and Dench more than prove their acting prowess – not that Dench has anything to prove with such a glittering career – with two magnificent performances. They are simultaneously moving, amusing, touching and enthralling, and absolutely live the parts: although we cannot help but reflect on their other famous roles, there is no hint here of M or Q, of Elizabeth I or The Hour's Freddie Lyon. Different as they are, Whishaw and Dench ensure that these characters work as a duo who support, disarm, challenge and reassure each other in turn, creating an unexpected yet fascinating pairing.

They are supported on the whole by a strong cast: Nicholas Farrell and Derek Riddell are both a sensitive and powerful presence as Lewis Carroll and James Barrie respectively, depicting the troubled individuals whose creative minds produced these unforgettable characters. As the fictional Alice, Ruby Bentall strikes the right note of an innocent yet somehow ominous shadow of the real Alice; similarly, as Peter Pan, Olly Alexander is occasionally a little soulless and flat, but treads the line between a comfort and a burden as the two literary characters flit amongst and even interact with their real life inspirations. The allusions to Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan within the script are pleasing as we recognise them, but also newly poignant and sometimes disturbing as reality and fantasy are juxtaposed before our eyes: as Peter and Alice's stories are entwined and confused, the apparent familiarity of the two tales is blurred.

Although the plot and script whirl between fantasy, reality and that realm in between – that of memory – there are moments of starkness here which remind the audience of the earthly struggles which still continue, even when fairytales carry us off to another world. The final moments raised an audible murmur from the audience as its brutal bluntess was startling: Whishaw's simple act of closing the door behind him is powerful in its finality. Perhaps reality has conquered fantasy, or perhaps the fantasy of their childhoods has driven the protagonists' reality to this precipice. Unusual and tricky to get a hold of, Peter and Alice is still an intriguing, thoughtful piece of work carried by two wonderfully memorable performances.

Hamlet's Fool and the Cockpit Theatre

For those of you who aren't subject to my spamming of Facebook and Twitter every time I review something (you know you love it really...), on Friday night I headed down to the Cockpit Theatre in Marylebone to check out Hamlet's Fool on behalf of A Younger Theatre. The production was for the most part entertaining, with engaging and infectious storytelling from sole actor Peter Cutts; it had its weak points, no doubt, but his versatility and sheer enjoyment shone through and managed to create both laughter and poignancy in his rapid switching of roles, even though the script was a bit of a let-down in the final section. My full review can be found here if you fancy a spot of light reading on a Sunday afternoon: http://www.ayoungertheatre.com/review-hamlets-fool-cock-pit/

The Cockpit Theatre is a great little find, too. On my first visit there I was struck by its relaxed atmosphere, created for the most part by the open and easy friendliness of the the staff. The front of house team were warm and welcoming, and a mixture of old and young theatregoers created a happy buzz in the bar before the show.

Jazz in the Round
Image credit: Cockpit Theatre

As well as visiting theatre companies, the theatre also plays host to a range of musical acts, from the "gypsy jazz" of Elements of the Hot Club, who provided post-show entertainment after Hamlet's Fool, to the 'Jazz in the Round' which takes place every last Monday of the month. Described as a "barrier-busting jazz/ contemporary music binge", it presents an array of soloists and bands and looks to be a great way to spend an evening without breaking the bank!

THEATRE REVIEW: Mies Julie

Riverside Studios

Tue 23 April

until 19 May

Trailer: Mies Julie. Courtesy of Riverside Studios

Temporarily, summer struck London last week. In Hammersmith it was warm and humid, sultry almost – an apt night to be watching Mies Julie, as Strindberg's 19th century masterpiece is transported to the South African summer. But if I thought it was hot outside, it was nothing to the atmosphere in Riverside Studio 2. This play burns. It crackles with energy, sizzles with raw sexuality, and exudes heat, tension and passion like nothing else I have seen. It is a production that grabs hold of you and won't let you go; it puts you on the edge of your seat and refuses to let you sit back. This hit of the Edinburgh Fringe has certainly proved it can cut some seriously hot mustard in its London transfer.

Strindberg's original has undergone some pretty hefty changes in Yael Farber's adaptation: the move to contemporary South Africa is the obvious one, but the dynamics have also been shifted significantly by the fact that Christine the fiancée has here become Christine the mother. Any doubts about this alteration, which of course eliminates the 'love triangle' aspect of the play – what is John now choosing between? – were banished as I began to understand this adaptation. At the heart of it is not just a 'will-they-won't-they' romance, but a battle between master and servant, white and black, and the past and future of this troubled land. The droning music is pulsating, throbbing, almost unbearably uncomfortable at times: together with the feeble attempts of the rickety fan to break the sweltering heat, it demonstrates this show's intensity, which is heightened by the lack of interval – a smart decision which increases the sense of entrapment. Certain moments of the show are pretty difficult to watch, and the audience are allowed no let-up.

As John and Julie circle each other, sometimes like children at play, other times like wary lions about to fight, the energy between them is electric. Their attraction yet simultaneous fierce anger has them dodging towards and away from each other, manoeuvring around the stage in a highly sexually-charged cat-and-mouse chase. Their movements are almost dance-like, drifting together and apart but apparently incapable of breaking out of this cycle. The lightest of touches sets the sparks flying: when the impulses are finally acted upon, the consummation of it is violent, desperate and animalistic. Although it is important for subsequent plot details, in some ways it is a shame that the result of these urges has to be played out before us: the simmering attraction between the two leads was a masterclass in seemingly effortless on-stage chemistry, as Bongile Mantsai and Hilda Cronje work flawlessly together to depict tempestuous temptation. On stage for practically the entire show, they demonstrate great stamina in upholding the intensity for the whole duration.

The introduction of South African politics to this play refracts its themes through a different lens. Masculinity, entrapment, class, ownership: the questions are all still present in almost overwhelming strength, but there is a new bite and bitterness to the stagnancy of the situation. Apartheid is over and a new dawn has reached the nation, but here it seems as if not much has changed: as John cries bitterly, "Welcome to the new South Africa, Miss Julie, where miracles leave us exactly where we began". Futility reigns as every plan to escape their roots comes up against a brick wall: everywhere violence and brutality threatens to crush Julie's fragile yet intense soul, and stifle John's passion. The audience visibly cringed and audibly gasped at moments of horror, most notably the ending which was the most viscerally horrible I have seen on stage. It is partly its gruesome nature but also the pointlessness of this loss of life which is so affecting, and its cyclical nature as Christine is left to clean up the mess, just as she did after the tragic death of Julie's mother.

Rarely is there a production that carries this level of intensity, power and raw emotion. Everything from the lead performances to the script adaptation to the musicians comes together to create an explosive work that is gutsy, passionate and altogether extraordinary.

THEATRE REVIEW: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time

Apollo Theatre

19 April

Booking until Autumn 2014

Any director who puts a real-life, totally adorable little puppy into their production is very canny. The squeals and "awwws" reverberating around the audience were a sign of a very happy audience indeed. Yet this adaptation of Mark Haddon's award-winning novel doesn't need to rely on gimmicks or fluffy animals; this is a stellar production packed with terrific – and totally believable – performances, genius stagecraft and affectionate warmth.

Coverage of the show has focused a great deal on the lead performance of Luke Treadaway as fifteen-year-old Christopher. In this instance, the hype is most definitely justified. Treadaway – who, at the age of twenty-eight, becomes a surprisingly credible teenager – has perfected his role, which he delivers with intelligence and sensitivity that never seeks to romanticise or trivialise his character's situation. He doesn't hold back on the details in portraying the symptoms of Asperger's Syndrome. The scene in which Ed (Christopher's father) must remove his son's vomit-covered clothes is touching in its care and delicacy, and well-judged in length: by not rushing through it, the painstaking processes which this level of care can involve were poignantly played out. Similarly, the detail with which Treadaway imbues the role is excellent, with habits such as scratching his head or playing with his hoodie ties, using small actions to create a rounded and believable depiction. Treadaway may be playing a young character, but he takes a mature approach to the role, exploring its depths and also its humour – the dialogue is often laugh-out-loud funny and Treadaway's puzzled seriousness is entertaining, whilst always ensuring that nobody was laughing at Asperger's. The performance treads that careful line of humour and respect, of comedy and sensitivity. There is truth and warmth in it, and it never threatens to be disrespectful. The Olivier award for best actor could not have found a more deserving recipient.

Luke Treadaway - credit: Festival Du Film Britannique de Dinard 2011

Yet as praise is heaped upon Luke Treadaway, it's important to remember this is not a one-man show. Many of the cast take on a range of small parts, proving adept at shifting from role to role, accent to accent. Niamh Cusack drives the show forward as she reads Christopher's account of the story and oversees the putting on of his 'play' – the play, of course, which we are currently watching. This allows for some comic moments where characters, and most of all pedantic 'director' Christopher, apparently step out of their role in the retelling, yet remain in character as far as the audience is concerned. Although Cusack's is the least flashy role, hers is a performance to reflect on. She is probably the only person in the play who really 'gets' Christopher, yet this is never explicitly discussed: it doesn't have to be, as we gradually realise the importance of her quiet but vital support.

In turn, this highlights the troubled journey of parents Ed and Judy who, despite their deep love, sometimes struggle to understand – and to cope with – their son's emotions and decisions. Most impressive is the bravery of author Mark Haddon and playwright Simon Stephens who do not shy away from the real difficulties of bringing up a child with Asperger's. Although things are certainly looking up by the curtain call, there is no perfect 'happy ever after' ending, and this refusal to gloss over the hardships is rewarded with brilliant performances from Seán Gleeson and Holly Aird – particularly the latter, whose portrayal of a mother who could not cope with what life threw at her is bravely honest and at times heart-wrenching.

The performances in this production would on their own create an inspiring, moving and truly fantastic play. But it is the staging that adds that touch of magic. Everything is actually pretty simple, but the way it works is absolute genius. From Christopher's dreams of being an astronaut, to the creation of a hectic Paddington station with a relatively small cast, to the set-up of an extensive train set across the stage, Christopher's world is evoked through his eyes with impressive skill and imagination. A broad smile spread across my face at the appearance of an 'escalator' on the back wall of the stage, as the creative team exceeded my expectations once again by a country mile. Everything worked in harmony faultlessly: a rare achievement.

It's hard to praise this show enough: every element comes together to produce a truly wonderful evening of theatre, and proves once again what a gem the National Theatre is in the crown of London theatre. If this is anything to go by, it is a real shame that Marianne Elliott has ruled herself out of the running of artistic director, because her creation here is a true triumph. The atmosphere of delight as Luke Treadaway delivered the epilogue and confetti fluttered to the floor of the Apollo was something special.

THEATRE REVIEW: A Chorus Line

London Palladium

10 April 2013

Booking until January 2014

Photo: AndyRobertsPhotos

A Chorus Line has been away too long. This is the show's first return to the West End stage since it first burst into life at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane in 1976 – and so its first in my lifetime. So naturally I jumped at the chance to see this hit musical as it returned to the Palladium this spring, envisioning a Fame-like, retro dance-off. What I didn't expect is quite how much I'd fall in love with this musical, or how touching it would be. Most people are at least faintly familiar with the sparkling, high-kicking finale, with its co-ordinated hats and frankly awful gold spangly suits; but there's far more to this musical than one show-stopping number. Sitting in a theatre watching the experiences, and the struggles, of those who strive to perform there was a surprisingly thoughtful experience, revealing the highs and lows of the performing arts: there really is no business like show business.

Originally created from interviews with real performers – some of whom formed the first cast – the show charts the progress of seventeen dancers through the audition process for an unnamed Broadway show. Yet this is no ordinary audition, as director Zach insists on not only seeing their dancing abilities, but also hearing about their childhood, their dreams and their inspirations. As Zach, John Partridge exudes ambition and authority yet also shows moments of uncertainty which add warmth and depth to a character who is seen very little; in ensemble dance scenes the eye is drawn to him, as his confidence and attitude – and partly, let's be honest, his muscular physique – dominates the stage. Certainly you would not recognise this experienced stage actor as a former EastEnder. However, although it is unfortunate that his stage presence can only be witnessed in a small number of scenes, his mostly off-stage role is effective in leading us through the auditionees' triumphs and failures, their joy and their pain, as he questions them one by one.

The musical numbers flow easily out of these conversation without seeming unnaturally placed – with the possible exception of the most conventional number 'What I Did For Love', although frankly this hit tune could have cut across the dialogue and drowned it out and I wouldn't really have minded. Although the preceding discussion is touching, as the dancers become aware of the potentially fleeting and transitory nature of their careers, it drags on for too long and becomes over-sentimentalised. It's a shame, because the rest of the show adeptly balances poignancy with stark reality and humour, avoiding anything too syrupy: despite the importance of the theme it explores, it is almost a relief, therefore, when the powerful and moving tones of Victoria Hamilton-Barritt finally signal the end to this particular interlude.

In fact, Hamilton-Barritt shines throughout the show, with her rendition of 'Nothing' displaying the combination of frustration, humour and pathos which epitomises these accounts. At this matinée, poster girl for the show Scarlett Strallen was absent, but no matter: this isn't the kind of production you go to see for a single star performance, and Lucy Jane Adcock more than delivered. 'The Music and the Mirror' is a showcase for the passion and skill of the dancers in this production, and Adcock throws herself around the stage, somehow both graceful and frenzied. The band can really show off here too: low and pulsating one minute, electric and vibrant the next, while the set of shifting mirrors adds to the sense of swirling unbalance.

Elsewhere, newcomer Rebecca Herszenhorn and veteran Leigh Zimmerman both have the audience in stitches in their turns as Val and Sheila respectively: it's hard to believe that this is Herszenhorn's West End debut, such is her verve and assurance as she captures the full brazen hilarity of her solo number 'Dance: Ten, Looks: Three'. At the more serious end of the scale, Paul's story is both the most haunting – his apparent grim acceptance of sexual abuse by strangers as a child is an uncomfortable jolt in the show – and the most triumphant, as the expected censure from his parents for performing in a drag show does not materialise. Gary Wood displays sensitivity in his portrayal without overdoing it, and his awkward and understated delivery in fact makes his moment in the spotlight glow.

In the end, though, this is an ensemble piece, and it is strongest when the full group of dancers take to the stage together, interweaving their particular strains of song and dance. As the whole concept of the production goes to show, they are all accomplished individuals making up a powerful cohort – nowhere is this more obvious than in the fifteen-minute-long extravaganza montage of 'Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love'. After getting to know, and to feel for, these characters throughout the production, it is easy to forget that they are not auditioning for parts that will show off their sparkling humour or forceful passions, but will become members of the titular chorus line – they will all end up the same. This begins to be made clear as the climax of the show nears, as the individuality of Cassie's dancing is stamped out: "dance like everyone else!", yells Zach. The finale is triumphant: yet it is tinged with sadness as these figures have become almost indistinguishable from one another, as their success also brings a certain loss of identity. They are not the stars: they are singing about the unseen star, providing her backdrop.

Yet this cast certainly goes out on a high, making the auditorium sizzle in this glorious revival which has most definitely proved to be worth the wait.

Responses to 'Sunken Garden': elitism, a generation gap or just a matter of taste?

Last Friday I made my first visit to the warren that is the Barbican to review the ENO's world première of Sunken Garden on behalf of A Younger Theatre. Marketed as an "enthralling multimedia 'occult mystery'", it was always going to be a little off-the-wall, combining 2D and 3D film, live performance, sung and spoken dialogue and a blend of musical styles - as well as a pretty zany storyline. Librettist David Mitchell himself described the project as "a bit bonkers" in an interview with Sameer Rahim - but hey, what's wrong with a bit of bonkers every now and then?

In fact, in the end I thought the whole thing was rather wonderful. Ok, so the plot was a little baffling and I wouldn't have always been able to follow it without the aid of the programme. Yet the way in which technology was used to create a new kind of operatic experience was thrilling to witness. The emphasis was no doubt on production rather than plot, but in this respect it certainly had the wow-factor and was an exciting vision of a road that opera and theatre could go down, with all this new wizardry to play with. So, I wrote my mostly positive review, revelling in the fascinating evening I'd just had. If you'd like to read my thoughts in full, have a look here. You may disagree - please do, and please tell me why! Anyway, it was therefore a bit of a surprise to see sweeping - and sometimes pretty vitriolic - negativity from other critics. Michael Church at The Independent (here) accused van der Aa of "remarkable arrogance" - mainly, it seems, for the lack of interval, which quite honestly seems a little trivial - while at The Telegraph Rupert Christiansen was positively fuming at having been put through such torture, as he saw it (the full rant can be found here). Phrases such as "dismal", "toxically flatulent", "this thing - I hesitate to grant it the honorific label of opera" and "unmitigated piffle" made the one-star rating unsurprising, and demonstrated a pretty hefty objection to what I saw as an imperfect but still impressive work of creativity.

Of course, that's the nature of criticism - and the nature of theatre. Audiences have opinions, instinctive responses; they disagree, we have debates. The violent negativity and apparent refusal to see any positives in the work do make me slightly uneasy (Although the wickeder side of me enjoyed reading it. I did laugh.) but I'd never be against a critic - indeed, an experienced expert - putting forward their opinion. What seems most disquieting about Christiansen's piece (and I'm sure he's not alone in these notions: this is a perfect example but certainly not a personal attack) are its more subtle implications: of what 'Opera' is, or should be, and of the value of a young audience's opinions - and, more worryingly, those of young creatives.

The reluctance to even call Sunken Garden by the "honorific label of opera" implies a definition of the genre as something of a certain standard; something elite, deserving of honour, respect and homage. On a basic level, an opera is actually defined as "A dramatic work in one or more acts, set to music for singers and instrumentalists". Well, unless Christiansen got lost in the Barbican and ended up in the wrong room, I'm pretty sure that's what we were both watching... Maybe I'm sounding petty and being over-literal with this review. Yet my point still stands. The implication is that Sunken Garden is a young new breed who isn't allowed to join this 'gentlemen's club' of opera; that this grandiose and magical thing called 'opera' has to be elite, to have rigorously high quality control, to earn respect and honour. Even the phrase "I hesitate to grant it" implies privilege and prestige. But why? There's an awful lot of experimental theatre out there - and some of it really is awful - but I don't think many people would stop calling it 'theatre' just because it doesn't succeed. Then again, some of it is truly spectacular; and the only way that writers, directors, performers, composers and indeed audiences can discover what works and what doesn't, is by experimenting and risk-taking. Van der Aa is doing just that, by creating a new vision: this does not divide it from the world of opera, but tests and stretches what opera can be. By all means productions should be judged critically, but whole genres and their potential should not be stifled or boxed up in the process.

Then we come to the question of age. I too "sensed a youngish first-night audience" - and at twenty-one I guess I'm included in that - who, it is suggested, are attracted by the "trendiness" (do I detect a shudder behind that word?) of technology. This may be true, but it would be patronising of me to suggest that an older generation than me didn't 'get' this opera because they don't understand or appreciate technology; it thus seems just as patronising to imply that the young don't 'get' opera and are blinded by some fancy 3D films which prevent them from having supposed 'good taste' or true appreciation for this genre. I can handle a computer and smartphone, but I wouldn't call myself a techie whiz-kid: the eleven-year-olds I look after in my job are much more technologically up-to-date than I am, so it's not my devoted love for hi-tech science that inspired my review; rather my admiration for creativity and talent. One commenter on the Telegraph certainly seemed to think that we young'uns are too naive for this kind of thing, recounting how "One youngish chap next to me said 'Wow, fantastic!'' when this torturous think [sic] finished and I suspect he has never been to an opera where the music and singing carry everything without resorting to gimmicks". Why is a "youngish" (not even young...) person who likes this opera automatically assumed to carry an opinion that is uninformed and worthless? This attitude is patronising, ridiculous and - for a 21-year-old budding critic - pretty worrying.

The same ideas seem to be applied to the creator of the project. The accusations of "arrogance" levelled at van der Aa by Michael Church, which stem from the length of the show and its lack of interval, seem partly (if not primarily) inspired by his youthfulness: "For this young experimentalist to think he could get away with it bespeaks quite remarkable arrogance". Now I don't want to be rude, but firstly van der Aa is 43 - and he's still classed as a "young" composer? He's hardly a naive little babe in arms is he, considering he's been composing since the mid-nineties. However, my argument would be the same if he were an eighteen-year-old premièring his first piece. The claim that he should make life as easy as possible for the audience - that he should not take risks, that he should stick to the norms (whatever they are - it's a creative industry after all...) - purely out of youth, is quite frankly ridiculous. A blend of works that stand the test of time and eclectic new creations is what makes the world of theatre - including opera - such a vivid, ever-evolving, thrilling, surprising and wonderful thing.

New work is often divisive; but I'd like to think that this is because, as human beings, we have such a variety of loves and hates, of tastes and impulses and attractions and emotions - the very thing that gives us such a variety of performing arts in the first place. I don't mind that other critics didn't feel the same as I did. In fact, it makes me all the more interested in the work, and it's also one of the reasons that student reviewing sites Online Theatre Ltd. send two reviewers to every show - to produce debate. I just hope the reasoning behind negative reviews is sensible. In other genres of theatre there doesn't appear to be anti-youth criticism or elitist 'rules', and hopefully opera is granted the same freedom of experimentation without blanket censure. For me, Sunken Garden was a window into possibilities: it may not be perfect, but this window should not be closed on principle.