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.

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.

THEATRE REVIEW: Wicked

Apollo Victoria Theatre, London

23 March 2013

Now booking until April 2014

When Wicked flew into London seven years ago, it was riding on a wave of popular success but a rather mixed critical reception on Broadway. Here in the UK our press were a little kinder, but it is still very much a show that has proved critics wrong in its staying power - and paying my first visit to this record-breaking creation of Simon Schwarz and Winnie Holzman, I'm pretty damn glad it did. 'The Untold Story of the Witches of Oz' has pretty much everything on the West End musical checklist - humour, romance, scary bits to make the children in the audience squirm, fabulous costumes and lighting, catchy tunes and a whopping great powerhouse showstopper just before the interval. Yet at the same time, it doesn't feel too much of a cliché. The production so clearly screams money and Broadway - just look at the sparkling green lights of the Emerald City and the glorious Tim Burton-esque costumes - so it is down to the cast to ensure the show avoids the soullessness that big money productions can potentially bring.

Photo: Stuck in Customs 

Luckily for audiences, a stream of glitteringly talented Elphabas and Glindas have helped to keep the magic alive, from Idina Menzel to Kerry Ellis to TV-talent-show escapee Rachel Tucker. Currently, the wonderful Louise Dearman is playing the green-skinned heroine, making her the first actress to play both protagonists. And boy, can she sing. 'Iconic' is a big word, but Defying Gravity is on the way to this status already (partly thanks to Glee, I'm sure...) and Dearman certainly has the lungs to pull it off. As she soars above the stage, her voice follows suit and she delivers a powerful punch to round off the first half of the show. Yet Dearman's performance is not all about the shouty long notes: her quieter moments are genuinely moving and she delivers a rounded performance which ensures that, although this song is a scene-stealer, it doesn't define the whole production. At this performance, standby Lucy Van Gasse took the stage as Glinda and certainly proved her prowess as a leading lady, providing a contrasting performance to Dearman with her pure soprano and Disney princess-esque fluttering, with just a touch of Elle Woods - but at the same time she completed a perfect partnership without which Wicked does not work.

For it is within this duo that the magic starts and ends, and which provides Wicked's 'USP', to coin a horribly corporate term. That the most important relationship in the show - the one which creates the warmth and drives the tension - is not one of romance but of friendship, is delightfully different from the norm. Similarly but less tragically than Blood Brothers, as cheesy as it sounds, it is a story of people. It may be set in a fantastical land of munchkins and flying monkeys and wonderful wizards, but the comedy and loyalty which embodies their relationship is refreshingly normal in spite of it all, and really holds the show together.

There is, of course, a romantic thread to the show: one that, nominally, threatens this central relationship. But the dashing Fiyero, played with rebellious yet Eton-esque charm and swagger by Ben Freeman, does feel like a side character, despite his centrality to the plot. Equally, newcomer Sam Lupton's Boq, Melissa Jacques' Madame Morrible and Keith Bartlett's sprightly and eccentric Wizard are all strong performances, but cannot avoid feeling rather like elements of a background patchwork on which Elphaba and Glinda play out their story. This is no criticism of the cast - merely, the plot and script are perhaps too much centred on these star performances to let others shine as they could. In other areas, however, the book of the musical is surprising in its intricacies and delights, neatly tying up the looser ends of the original Wizard of Oz plot and challenging those we thought were set in stone. The moral ambiguities of both Elphaba and Glinda ensure they are not reduced to pantomimish representations of good and evil, and Dearman and Van Gasse negotiate their characters with nuance, whilst remaining on the lighter side of things - this is a great show for children, after all.

Despite some of these niggles with the plot, the overall feeling at the close of the show is one of magic, excitement, thrill and, even, fulfilment. It may not have the intense emotion of Les Mis or the irrepressible joy of Matilda, for example, but as long as the two leads continue to be cast with the very best of the West End's talent (please, casting directors, avoid any token celebrity Glindas or Elphabas - the show wouldn't cope) Wicked lifts you out of the everyday into a joyful world of fantasy, and will no doubt continue to enchant audiences for years to come.

THEATRE REVIEW: Blood Brothers

Phoenix Theatre, London

4th Oct 2012

In just a few weeks the striking backdrop of the Liverpool skyline will come down from the beautiful Phoenix Theatre as this production of Willy Russell’s Blood Brothers departs from the West End; and a sad day that will be, as this cast have put on a superb production of the tear-jerking “story of the Johnstone twins”. The show is of course intrinsically linked with a particular place and time – Liverpool, and the toughest days of the 1980s – but this production truly shows it off as a modern classic, by maintaining this heritage yet avoiding any sense of being dated. There is still freshness here and, to invoke a horribly over-analysed concept, relevancy; and no need to take my word for it – just listen to the raucous, enraptured reaction of the hordes of schoolchildren at this midweek matinée. Much of the appeal lies in the blend of bitter realism and stylised superstition which is kept in perfect harmony: although “harmonious” seems an inappropriate word to choose for a drama that pulls you in so many directions. It is harsh but warm; heart-wrenching but funny; bleak but uplifting; at the end of the first act the girls around me were bopping in their seats to the tune of Bright New Day, yet by the end of the second the tears were steaming down their cheeks. The production delivers in every area.

Blood Brothers is nothing without its perfect Mrs Johnstone, and this run gives Vivienne Carlyle her turn to join the lengthy list of stars who have taken on the role, from Petula Clark to Mel C. Carlyle gives a strong and soulful vocal performance as her rich tones bring deep emotion to the lyrics, and her ‘Mrs J’ is likeable and pitiable in equal measures. At times there are some odd vowel sounds, when the mostly-perfect Scouse accent doesn't quite gel with Carlyle’s singing style as she negotiates the break in the voice: yet this is really a minor niggle. The trio of Mark Rice-Oxley (Mickey), Paul Christopher (Eddie) and Louise Clayton (Linda) work together with confidence and ease, mastering the range of child to adult which these characters demand. Rice-Oxley in particular steals the show, bringing the audience from hysterical laughter as the cheeky, scruffy schoolboy and awkward teenager, to gut-wrenching sympathy and edge-of-the-seat desperation as the older, embittered Mickey. Michael Southern is solid in his supporting role of Sammy, but somewhat less successful at the tricky task of, as an adult actor, playing a child; however, the problem lies in aesthetics more than anything as Southern simply looks a little too old to pull off the portrayal of a young boy in quite the same way as other cast members.

The direction of Bob Thomson and Bill Kenwright emphasises the underlying themes of desperation and paranoia which pervade the tale of Mrs Johnstone, through the Narrator’s constant yet seemingly invisible presence in the action, as the figure of Philip Stewart lingers at the edge of the set or at an upper window. His powerful voice and at times menacing performance reminds the audience constantly that this is a tale heading for tragedy. Designer Marty Flood highlights this mood without it becoming overblown and without breaking the sense of truth in this piece. As the burning red light of Madman cuts into the realism of the Town Hall chamber, the show lurches from stylised rage to something far more ‘real’: the audience know with a jolt that the inevitably tragic ending is really about to happen.

This production builds and builds as it continues, and the electricity at the explosive climax is palpable. As the last verse of Tell Me It’s Not True crescendos and the band and voices swell together, so do the audience’s emotions, and many a tear-stained face emerged from the Phoenix Theatre. Willy Russell has said that the show “relies on that primal, ageless universal thing of “I'm going to tell you a story”” and it is this strong storytelling, with its pure truth and emotion, that keeps audiences coming back for more.

Lessons From The Fringe

After a week at home recovering from Fringe Fatigue, it's time to reflect on my time in Edinburgh. In list form, because I'm moving to start a job tomorrow so things are a bit busy at the moment! So, with apologies for the slight lack of coherent prose, here's a smattering of things I learned at the Fringe:

1) Expect the unexpected.
I very quickly discovered that my capacity to be surprised dissolved and vanished away in Edinburgh. Things that I was doubtful about took my breath away, shows I looked forward to let me down; the Royal Mile was always providing another unexpected sight; old friends popped up at every corner, new friends emerged; and you never quite knew if you'd just walked past an unusually glamorous woman or one of the Ladyboys of Bangkok. So, I learned to leave all expectations behind me and be prepared for anything!

2) Deep fried Mars bars are not as nice as people tell you.
I was assured by two very trustworthy (or so I thought...) EFR reviewers that this stereotypically Scottish snack was in fact addictively tasty. I found it was disappointing and gave me stomach ache. Although, the fact that the Marchmont Takeaway (whose staff are lovely, by the way) will deep fry any of the confectionery that they sell makes a return visit tempting. Next time I'm going for a deep fried Crunchie - maybe that'll convert me to the cause. But I doubt it.

3) Do not attempt to walk down the Royal Mile if you're late.
Or, don't be late if you know you have to walk down the Mile. Or else, perfect your kamikaze dodging technique. The number of times I left with plenty of time to spare yet ended up sprinting the last couple of streets would fill an entire blog post of their own, and it was always because my route took me down the Mile. Even if you're a persistent flyer-dodger, it is a simple fact of the Fringe that you cannot get down that road quickly. Although quite honestly, why would you want to?

4) Living statues' paint is surprisingly waterproof.
Ok, this may not be a vital life lesson, but I was intrigued to hear from a silvery lady in Caffe Nero that in fact her metallic body paint would not run in the downpour that the Edinburgh skies were dumping on us. It's just that she didn't like rain very much.

5) ZOO Venues and Edinburgh Zoo are NOT the same place.

Before someone makes a joke about dumb blondes, I never had to learn this lesson - obvious, I thought. Apparently not, as one of our reviewers proved when, just as she was enjoying the gift shop and panda exhibit, she realised that in fact the play which was due to start ten minutes later was not somewhere between the monkey and the meerkat enclosure, but the other side of Edinburgh. In a theatre. Not a zoo. Just in case you're still confused, here's a brief description from their websites: we've got "one of the leading venue management companies on the Edinburgh Fringe, with two thriving theatres at the heart of the Festival" and "the largest and most exciting wildlife attraction in Scotland, committed to the highest standards of animal welfare, conservation and environmental education." Worked out which one is which? Excellent. Remember that.

6) Not everything should have 'The Musical' stuck onto the end of the title.

There seems to be an ever-increasing sector of shows with this particular suffix. I love musicals - always have and always will. But not everything should necessarily be given the all-singing, all-dancing treatment. Bereavement: The Musical and Sex Ed: The Musical both get a big fat YES. Andy and the Prostitutes: The Musical? Doubtful. The Tibetan Book of the Dead: The Musical? No. Just... no.

7) Arthur's Seat is worth an afternoon away from the festival.

It's quick and easy to climb and the views are beautiful. And you hear some gems of bad geography if you eavesdrop on conversations at the top as people try to get their bearings. "Isn't Stonehenge near here? Oh no, wait - that's in Italy isn't it..." I have no idea if this person made it back to her house without getting lost, but I have my doubts.

8) The Fringe is addictive.

I came home sleep-deprived, never wanting to send an email again and seeing press releases and reviews and stars whenever I closed my eyes. But I'm going back next year, no question. I may have got Fringe fatigue, but I also caught Fringe fever - I'm officially a life-long fan. No matter how tired you get, the sheer amount of amazing, surprising, hilarious (whether intentionally or not) and heart-rending theatre that is on show here is unparalleled, from the most traditional of Shakespearean productions to the newest comedians on the circuit to an eleven minute performance in a prison cell. One year's taste of it is not enough. Thank you Edinburgh, you were great.

THEATRE REVIEW: Sex Ed: The Musical (Edinburgh Fringe)

Out Write Productions

Edinburgh Fringe – theSpace @ Surgeons’ Hall

25 August 2012

Sex Ed: The Musical bills itself as a show which will tell you “Everything you never wanted to know about sex”. I think that should be altered slightly – it’s everything you thought you never wanted to know about sex, until you witnessed it all put into a series of very catchy songs and hilarious dances, at which point you couldn’t imagine how you wouldn’t want to hear about it.

The inaugural production of new theatre company Out Write Productions, this show caused hysterical laughter to break out throughout the audience as the riotously funny cast of seven take sixteen-year-old Gilbert and Gladys – along with the audience – on a journey through all the ins and outs (yes, pun intended – I stole it from the show) of sex, from contraception to technique and positions to sexual orientation. It’s all very silly, of course: sperm is represented by sock puppets, STIs are likened to cheese and phrases such as “vaginally tardy” are thrown around the stage. But the show manages to tread the line between funny and crude with skill, and ensure that serious issues are not trivialised whilst also having a lot of fun. This extends to the set, props and scene changes: the use of labels and signs indicates a home-made aspect to the show, but rather than highlighting any sense of unprofessionalism, cardboard signs such as “If We Had a Budget This Would Be A Scene Change” or “Focus On The Sign!” bring an extra dash of charming humour to the show.

Bethan Rigby and Isobel Wolff steal the show with their hilarious characterisation of Barbara and Glenda respectively. Rigby’s sense of physical comedy is spot-on, uproariously over-the-top at times but also touching in her own journey of self-discovery. Wolff’s motherly naivety is a brilliant foil to Agatha’s (Emily Snee) brashness and Hildegard’s (Lizzie Hartley) hopeless disorganisation and never-ending pregnancies. Vicky Buxton as Bob also provides many laughs with her forthright nature, and has one of the strongest voices in the musical numbers. The songs are all performed with gusto, and credit should really be given to all the cast for their ability to make it through numbers such as ‘Swallow My Pride’ with a straight face – there certainly wasn’t a single one to be found in the audience. Moments of hilarity came one after the other: from enforced audience participation on the part of two unsuspecting theatregoers who were made to wear ‘W**ker’ labels, to the transformation of shy Gilbert into a “kinky” lover, the show combined a wicked sense of humour and a warm heart which was encapsulated perfectly by the closing number of ‘Go F**k Yourself’.

There is a plethora of shows at the Fringe who have decided to stick ‘:The Musical’ onto the end of their title – enough to make me nervous about them all. Yet Sex Ed: The Musical certainly does not merit this anxiety, as the hilarious script and the relentless energy of the cast make for an hour-and-a-bit of unstoppable fun and hilarity.