Category: Review

Longer versions of reviews featured on the YouTube channel  and podcast One Minute Theatre Reviews, mainly London shows and selected regional and touring productions

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Review: Cabaret at the KitKat Club

Total Theatre with a message for our times

The KitKat Club at The Playhouse

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Hannah Dodd, Rob Madge & the company of Cabaret at the KitKat Club. Photo: Marc Brenner

It’s taken me four years to get round to seeing Cabaret at the KitKat Club, the venue formerly known as The Playhouse. The original stars of Rebecca Frecknall‘s production, Eddie Redmayne and Jessie Buckley, have long gone, and indeed many other pairs have played The Emcee and Sally Bowles in the intervening years. Even Rob Madge and Hannah Dodd, whom I saw, have now moved on.  But Cabaret at the KitKat Club remains the best show in London’s West End, and should be seen by anyone who loves musical theatre. Having said that, in my opinion, it’s not the best production of Cabaret ever. 

Rebecca Frecknall isn’t the first director to come up with the idea of turning the whole theatre into the KitKat Club, that being the name of the venue where the cabaret part of the musical takes place. I saw a production in Berlin back in 2018 that did just that. And most famously, and possibly the first to do it, was Sam Mendes‘ production at the Donmar Warehouse back in 1993. But I doubt anyone has done it with such complete dedication and thoroughness as Ms Frecknall.

You, the audience, are invited to get to the theatre an hour or more before the show begins. Even the outside of the old Playhouse has been rebranded the KitKat Club. You enter through the Stage Door, and go straight into the basement. Normally the secret home of dressing rooms, the main corridor has been changed into a bar area with subdued lighting and performers playing music and generally standing around looking degenerate. significantly, the signage is in English and German. Oh, and you’re offered a free shot of Schnapps. So, from the start, you are immersed in the decadence of Berlin’s hedonistic nightlife.

Then, it’s up the stairs to another bar where sexily clad dancers and musicians of indeterminate genders entertain in the sultry style of the Jazz Age. And so into the main house. The first shock is that the seating and layout of the old Playhouse has been completely ripped out. Instead of a proscenium arch stage and straight rows of seats, the circular stage area is in the middle of the auditorium with the audience on two sides, traverse style. Tables and chairs are in the immediate areas on either side of the stage. These are very expensive by the way, and have given the show its reputation for being high priced.  Beyond them are much more reasonably priced rows of seats, which are curved thus adding to the feeling of intimacy.

My row, which was G about six from the front, had a great rake, fantastic legroom and even a shelf for drinks. There are similarities with the Mendes production- it too utilised a small bare stage with some of the audience sitting at tables in front of it but in this production, we are all  in the KitKat Club circa 1929. This is total theatre that couldn’t be anything but a live show. Special credit here to Tom Scutt‘s set and costume design.

The dance and music continues as we wait for the show to begin. Our Emcee tonight is Rob Madge, who is fabulous as a threatening clown. It’s a part that can be played more sympathetically but Rebecca Frecknall chooses to go with the ‘leave your troubles outside’ cue and makes him lascivious, waspish, amoral and apolitical. So when he sings I Don’t Care Much in the second act, a song you won’t recognise if you only know the movie, there is no bravado, no irony, he really doesn’t seem to care.

Interestingly when Hal Prince first put together the musical in 1966, the Emcee was there to hold the show together but was not considered a major character. Joel Grey- and the audiences- changed all that. Now he is the conduit between us and the stories. And because he is our guide, and this is theatre, where the relationship between each other and with those on stage is uniquely intense, we are carried along by the fun of the cabaret, and become onlookers at the world outside the club.

That’s where we meet the gay, or maybe bi-sexual, American journalist Cliff – a sensitive performance from Daniel Bowerbank when I saw it- who becomes friendly with a Nazi called Ernst and a nightclub singer called Sally Bowles with whom he falls in love. More of her in moment, but first the other love story. Cliff’s landlady Fraulein Schneider falls in love with a Jewish fruiterer called Herr Schultz. It is a delicate romance between two lonely people in their autumn years, touchingly conveyed by Vivien Parry and Fenton Gray. Their songs It Couldn’t Please Me More and What Would You Do tighten the chest. As Act One ends, their relationship is broken up by the Nazis.

All this is taking place on the same bare stage that is the focal point of the KitKat Club. So we can quickly switch to cabaret songs which are a commentary on the stories: The Emcee sings and performs Two Ladies, parodying Cliff’s bisexuality. We hear the strirringTomorrow Belongs To Me quite early on, showing the apparently innocent but faintly sinister appeal of patriotism, that will drive the Nazi campaign. And If You Could See Her (the gorilla song) exposing the way the Nazis portray the Jews as sub-human.

The score is one of the best of all musicals with its evocation of the period, its exposition of character and plot, and its commentary on the action. There are so many great songs but two of the best are sung by Sally Bowles. I wasn’t sure about the jolly hockey sticks voice adopted by Hannah Dodd. Possibly Sally is meant to be putting on an act of speaking like the high society of the period, or perhaps she is simply a product of a 1920s finishing school. Anyway, Ms Dodd came into her own with the songs. Maybe This Time, first performed in the 1972 movie but now an integral part of the stage show, shows how on the edge Sally is. Desperate for love but also desperate to be something this naive English girl really isn’t- a hedonistic showbiz star. Her life is an vitreous act that could shatter at any moment, as it eventually does.

By the time, we reach the climactic singing of Cabaret, she has fallen apart, and hardly believes the sentiment of her late debauched friend Elsie that life is or should be a cabaret. She sees the mess of her own life and the way her idealised Berlin is succumbing to a sinister political group that won’t ‘live and let live’. The song is sung with anger and despair, not at all like the defiant Lisa Minelli version.

The second act sees the greatest divergence from the Sam Mendes production. In the earlier version, the KitKat Club carries on in its own blinkered way to the end, ignoring or mocking the Nazis until it is destroyed by them, in a shattering finale. In Rebecca Frecknall’s interpretation, the Nazi style gradually infiltrates the club. The costumes become bland, sandy coloured suits reflecting the Nazi uniform of brown shirts. We continue to be entertained but now, looked at objectively, we’re applauding or at least being complicit in the rise of the Nazis.

Either way works, and although I prefer the shock of Sam Mendes’ approach, the result is the same- a stark warning by the writer of the musical’s book Joe Masteroff and its composers John Kander and Fred Ebb against standing by and ignoring the rise of racist, authoritarian politicians under a banner of patriotism.

You leave having witnessed an evening of theatrical entertainment unequalled in the West End today, while this regime was being constructed round you.  Point made.

If you would like a flavour of the Sam Mendes production, there is a slightly blurry film of it, made for television, and available on YouTube.

Paul paid for his ticket.

Click here to watch this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

 

 

 

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Theatre review: Bacchae at the National

National’s new director turns ancient tragedy into modern comedy

Olivier stage at the National Theatre

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Clare Perkins in Bacchae. Photo: Marc Brenner

I was excited at the prospect of Indhu Rubasingham‘s first production as the National Theatre’s Director. She is after all the first woman and first person of colour to run the country’s leading theatre, and she came up with another first- it was the first time an author’s debut play had been produced in the Olivier, the National’s largest auditorium. And what a start from Nima Taleghani. It was a very modern, feminist interpretation of the Euripides’ Bacchae in both the contemporary language he used and the way he placed the chorus at the centre of the action. It was as if Ms Rubasingham wanted to say: ‘from now on this is the people’s theatre.’ A good message, and show had all the makings of a triumphant start to her reign. It was certainly pacey and eye-catching, but I was left a little disappointed.

Bacchae opens as dramatically as you could wish, with a gigantic horsecovered in blood dominating the stage. In fact, Robert Jones‘ moving tiers of stage floors and eye-catching costumes- some Mad Max style, others simply dazzling- along with Oliver Fenwick‘s flashing, whirling lighting, are a continual spectacle. Indhu Rubasingham’s tight direction keeps the pace moving, despite the large number of chorus members that she needed to move.

Choruses are a constant in Ancient Greek drama but usually they are a homogenous group witnessing and commenting on events. Sometimes they have a role beyond that, as in Bacchae, when they are the group of women who worship the demi-god Dionysus. They follow him through his triumphs and troubles, and Euripides extends their role to more active participation in the action. Nima Taleghani has gone even further, making them the driving force in the events that take place on the Olivier stage, a group determined to bring down authoritarian regimes run by men oppressing women.

I don’t want to say too much about what happens in case you don’t know the twists of the story, but suffice to say there is considerable bloodshed and one terrible key moment involving a mistaken victim of a murder. It’s a great play that asks lots of questions about religious fanaticism and the way passion can override reason.

In this adaptation, the chorus are given individual personalities and even split into factions. One is led by Clare Perkins, who brings authority, reason and humour to the part of Vida, the other by a blood-soaked Sharon Small whose demonic eyes that suggest a career in horror films might beckon.

The dispute between King Pentheus and Dionysus is central to the play. The former has banned the latter’s religion and denied his divinity.  In this version, the two characters are somewhat maginalised, although James McArdle‘s portrayal of the King as uncertain of his masculinity and Ukweli Roach‘s Dionysus, shown as an unworldy man more into love than war, provided an amusing contrast to the bloodthirsty women. Simon Startin was a dryly funny Tiresias, and so traditional in style that he seemed like a deliberate contrast to the radical changes all around.

Tragedy lost in comedy

Ukweli Roach in Bacchae. Photo: Marc Brenner

Ultimately, far from pondering on the madness of what has taken place at their instigation, the chorus latches onto the fact that Dionysus is, among his many responsibilities for promoting pleasure, the god of theatre. And Vida promises that the theatre they are in will from now on reflect real people’s lives.

All of this is done using some, at times, witty and amusing poetry and rap, peppered with strong language, and many crude references to women enjoying sex. Kate Prince choreographed rambunctious dancing to DJ Walde‘s insistent beats. For my taste, the many rousing speeches were shouted rather than delivered, and had me reaching in my bag for an aspirin. Don’t misunderstand me, it was fun, but Bacchae was written as a tragedy, and that essential element of it is lost in all the comedy. The remoulding of the plot to support the positive message, not only makes the story confusing, it undermines events that should leave us shell-shocked.

So, I did find Bacchae entertaining, and I am looking forward to what else  Indhu Rubasingham will bring to our national theatre, but I hope there will be less messing about and more substance.

Bacchae can be seen at the National Theatre until 1 November 2026. Buy tickets direct from the theatre

Paul was given a review ticket by the theatre.

Click here to read a roundup of other critics’ reviews

Click here to watch this review on YouTube

 

 

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Theatre review: The Lady From The Sea with Alicia Vikander & Andrew Lincoln

Watery family drama floats my boat

Bridge Theatre

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Andrew Lincoln & Alicia Vikander in The Lady From The Sea. Photo: Johan Persson

Simon Stone brought us Yerma with Billie Piper, one of the finest productions I have ever seen, and Phaedra with Janet McTeer which was pretty good too. He likes to take a classic, tear it apart, get down to its basics, and rebuild it for the modern world. So did he pull it off with Henrik Ibsen, father of theatrical realism, and stars Alicia Vikander and Andrew Lincoln? The answer is, yes, with style. It is an entertaining, amusing, gripping, unique piece of theatre.

The evening starts (and continues) with much would-be witty repartee of the kind that you find in fiction rather than real life, except this production often presents it as  crass or cringeworthy, and characters talk over one another, and mock one another. Ibsen was an early proselytiser of theatrical realism which meant believable conversations featuring middle class families that middle class theatre audiences could identify with, as opposed to the previous focus on royalty and gods. This play, with a script developed by the actors in conjunction with writer director Simon Stone, pays full homage to Ibsen with its realistic dialogue.

The subject matter is serious but this version is also very funny. One of exchanges that made me laugh, given the title of the play, was when someone said to Ellida: ‘You must be the lady of the house’ and she responded: ‘Did he just call me a lady?’

The play is set in the modern day in the Lake District, which makes a change from the Cotswolds, and is sprinkled with contemporary references, to OnlyFans and Just Stop Oil and the like, but the themes of love, loss and the effect of the past on the present are eternal and universal.

Edward and his second wife Ellida seem happy. Although his daughters from his first marriage are rebellious and rude, the couple are able to shrug it off. Then a former lover appears and Ellie must make a choice between an unfinished relationship and her current love.

Death hangs over the narrative: there are suicides, one by Edward’s first wife; Edward and Ellida have lost a child through miscarriage; a visiting young sculptor has a terminal illness. While the presence of death in their lives messes up some of the characters’ lives, it also acts as a reminder that life is short and unpredictable, and needs to be lived, not postponed.  Dramatic choices and revelations continue to the end.

The acting is uniformly excellent but none better than the two leads- Andrew Lincoln is totally convincing as a man lacking confidence, despite being a leading neurologist. This is revealed to be the result of a cold father. Events test Edward’s  liberal attitudes to breaking point. He, like the script, is funny, angry and anguished.

Alicia Vikander is a more subdued presence playing a quietly confident mature woman, with a slightly flat, stuttering delivery that made all the more powerful her passion, when it came out. At that point, she seemed to revert to the nervous, vulnerable youngster from twenty years earlier, who made decisions that would shape her life.

The young people- two teenage daughters planning the first stages of adulthood, and the dying sculptor- remind us of the turbulence of life as a young person. I loved Isobel Akuwudike and Gracie Oddie-James as the stroppy but ultimately caring daughters, and Joe Alwyn is wonderfully neurotic as the sculptor. John Macmillan is spot-on as the blunt, faithful family friend Lyle. Brendan Cowell is suitably charismatic as Finn, the lover from the past.

The Lady From The Sea at The Bridge. Photo: Johan Persson

Lizzie Clachan’s magnificent set isn’t in keeping with ideas of realism. It is pure theatre. The show is set in the round, bringing the audience close to the actors in this intimate family drama. There are minimal props- a table and chairs in one corner and a sun lounger opposite. (Avoid seats near the right corner as you enter the auditorium and the opposite corner on the far side, as these bits of furniture will sometimes obscure your view.)

During the interval, the entire set, both the floor and the small number of props are changed from completely white to totally black. Straightaway, you feel there will trouble ahead! The beginnings of scenes increasingly overlap with the ends of the previous ones, as the tension increases- as if we can’t wait to see what happens next.

Much of the baggage Ellida carries is weighed down by events at sea, so , in an eye-popping moment in the second act, water appears, first as heavy rain, then as shallow water when part of the stage drops. Two lovers make out in it with echoes of From Here To Eternity, before it becomes a swimming pool. It may not be an immersive production from the audience’s point of view but some of the actors are fully immersed in the pool. It could only happen in theatre. But, far from being gloomy, the water- like the play itself- is ultimately cleansing.

This is an intense piece of theatre I wouldn’t have wanted to miss.

The Lady From The Sea can be seen at The Bridge until 8 November 2025. Buy tickets direct from the theatre

Paul purchased his ticket.

Click here to watch a video of this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

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Review: A Midsummer Night’s Dream at The Bridge

Immersed in shallow water


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JJ Feild & Emmanuel Akwafo in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at The Bridge Theatre. Photo: Manuel Harlan

The Bridge Theatre’s immersive production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream is tremendous fun. Then again, I recently spent the day at Peppa Pig World, and that was a lot of fun too. For me the question is, is The Bridge’s Dream more than a party? Of course I could ask, do we need an excuse to enjoy a joyous night out inside one of our favourite theatres?

Before I go on, let me be clear: Nicholas Hytner’s production A Midsummer Night’s Dream was better theatre than Peppa Pig World. The acting including J J Feild as Oberon, Susannah Fielding as Titania, David Moorst as Puck and Emmanuel Akwafo as Bottom was excellent; Bunny  Christie’s bed-strewn set and Christina Cunningham’s costumes were wondrous; Arlene Phillips’ movement, and the effects, the lighting and the sound were the best you could hope for. Even so, it felt like being immersed in shallow water.

I have no doubt that creating a pseudo anarchy is in the spirit of Shakespeare’s play. Faeries fly above you, characters appear and disappear all over the place, while you are being moved this way and that wondering where the action will erupt next.  And yes, swapping the lines of Oberon and Titania sets up even more laughs as the King of the Fairies falls in love with an ass.

And there are lots of laughs, not only the predictable humour of  the Rude Mechanicals, but also from everyone else as a punk-like Puck unleashes mayhem. Lysander loses his trousers, there are accidental gay encounters, modern phrases enliven the Elizabethan text.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream at The Bridge Theatre. Photo: Manuel Harlan

The problem for me is, what is lost when everything becomes an excuse for a laugh or a party is an involvement in the characters and their fate. There is little sense of a major theme of the play- what happens to people’s emotions when their world is turned upside down. In every production I’ve seen until now, the Athenian women are genuinely upset when their lovers swap affection, the King of the Fairies, or Queen in this case, shows remorse at the effect of their magic.

I had the same feeling when I saw Punchdrunk’s The Burnt City. The feeling of wonder at what I was seeing, and the almost thrill of being lost as I stumbled into the mixed up scenes was fantastic, but I didn’t give a jot about the Greek tragedy that was unfolding.

Guys And Dolls, another immersive production at The Bridge, worked, for me, because, no matter how impressive the fluidity of the set was, the characters, book and music were allowed to speak for themselves. So, no matter how much the audience were lost in the action, we never lost ourinvolvement in the love stories.

I can see why for many critics it was a 5 star party. Sharing laughter is good for us, and I would totally recommend getting one of the not-very-expensive promenade tickets. But when I go to the theatre, I am also expecting to come out changed, if only a little bit, by what I have experienced, and on this occasion I wasn’t.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream can be seen at The Bridge Theatre until 20 August 2025. Buy tickets directly from the theatre

Paul paid for his ticket

Click here to watch this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

Click here to read Paul’s roundup of other critics’ reviews of A Midsummer Night’s dream at The Bridge Theatre

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Review: Intimate Apparel

Powerful play about women in a man’s world

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Samira Wiley & Claudia Jolly in Intimate Apparel. Photo: Helen Murray

The intimate apparel in question is a corset which back in 1905 when this play is set, helped women present to the outside world a body shape that conformed with that era’s restrictive standard of female beauty. But corsets aren’t the only deception going on in Lynn Nottage’s twisty play. Intimate Apparel shows us women faking it in a man’s world, while revealing their intimate feelings about their lives to each other when the disguise is off. At times, it is so believable, you forget you’re watching actors. This despite a minimal set and an audience on three sides.

It’s a play centred on women’s place in society at a time when black people were emerging from slavery and only men had the vote. The central character is Esther played by Samira Wiley. She is a black 35 year old unmarried seamstress who makes the intimate apparel of the title. She is shy and self deprecating about her looks. Her lack of confidence has kept her away from a social life, until she is now 35, has never had sex, and is effectively ‘on the shelf’. It is a monumental piece of acting, mixing downtrodden subservience with naive optimism, that totally convinces.

Esther’s clients are her world: they are quasi friends despite the difference in status. A motherly Mrs Dickson played by Nicola Hughes owns a boarding house in which Esther rents a room; Mrs Van Buren (Claudia Jolly) is a brittle white woman with a rich husband who neglects her; Mayme played with panache by Faith Omole achieves her independence through prostitution.

In a lesser play, these characters might be two dimensional ciphers representing different types of women in that society. We are told very little about their backgrounds or personal lives but Lyn Nottage’s special skill is to know her characters so well that every word they speak seems coated with the truth of a fully formed human being. It helps that these talented actors are there to inhabit the carefully created characters and give them a three dimensional reality.

The high quality of the acting extends to the two male characters- Kadiff Kirwan swaggers and whines as George, the kind of man who has never grown up, and Alex Waldmann gives a touching performance as the gentle, humorous Mr Marks, a haberdasher who is genuinely attracted to Esther and a would be a perfect match for her, but is held back by a religious faith that prevents him having physical contact with women outside his family.

Intimate Apparel at The Donmar. Photo: Helen Murray

When Esther gets a letter out of the blue from a man looking for a pen pal, the other women encourage her to respond. Because she can neither read nor write, they pursue the correspondence on her behalf until a remote love affair takes place and Esther accepts a marriage proposal without ever having met her fiancé.

So, a marriage has been built on something every bit as fake as the bodies created by intimate apparel. Might it still work out or will Esther’s world come crashing down? That’s the subject of the second act.  I’d love to talk about what happens but it would be unfair to spoil the dramatic twists and revelations which actually provoked gasps from the audience- an indication of how involved we were. Credit to director Lynette Linton for the romantic build-up that drew us in and the explosive pinball machine speed with which it blew up in our faces.

Alex Berry’s set used the cramped space of the Donmar well- key props like a bed and sewing machine nimbly moving around while the male characters appeared from high up at the back like Gods. Her costumes were fabulous and I assume accurate representations of the clothes- and underwear- of the period.

Intimate Apparel can be seen at the Donmar theatre until 9 August 2025. Buy tickets direct from the theatre.

Paul paid for his ticket.

Watch this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

 

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Review: Ruth Wilson & Michael Shannon in A Moon For The Misbegotten

A long evening lit up by Ruth Wilson

Almeida Theatre


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Ruth Wilson & Michael Shannon in A Moon For The Misbegotten. Photo: Marc Brenner

I admit there were moments when I thought Eugene O’Neill’s A Moon For The Misbegotten could hurry I up a bit but I came to appreciate this is a play where every word- and the unspoken words- count, and I appreciated the way that director Rebecca Frecknall deliberately made space to let this time bomb of a play achieve its impact.

It’s a kind of sequel , or perhaps an epilogue, to A Long Day’s Journey Into Night. It features Jamie Tyrone, one of the sons from that play, now known as Jim, and refers to his late mother and father. He is landlord to Josie Hogan and her father Phil. He seems benign but Phil fears he will sell their farm, so hatches a plot by which Josie will seduce Jim and he will be forced to marry her. Which is ironic because they do actually desire one another.

At first Josie comes across as a confident, independent woman, able to handle herself and the men around her, including her cynical, mean father. Playing the part is Ruth Wilson, at first swaggering and fearless, striding confidently and literally wielding a big stick. But from the beginning we sense a brittleness behind the bravado. We also see she is selfless, and, as the play progresses, this aspect of her character manifests itself in her approach to Jim and Phil. The gradual cracking of the shell she has built around herself is shown by Ms Wilson in multiple small ways. She becomes increasingly tender, as she admits the truth about herself and sees the reality of others   It could be the acting performance of the year.

Michael Shannon’s Jim, an alcoholic, is clearly a broken man but a gentle one who seems to be drowning his sorrows not only in booze but in casual encounters with women. His falsetto laugh and sad face hint there is more to him than a drunken womaniser, and his deliberate movements are not only those of a bourbon-soaked body but also of a man who hates his own being. As he moves from destructive self hate to a kind of temporary redemption, a calm takes over his body.

Ruth Wilson & David Threlfall in A Moon For The Misbegotten. Photo: Marc Brenner

What emerges over the length of the play is a gradual peeling off of the images Josie and Jim project to cover their insecurity and the discovery of the reasons they feel vulnerable, which are very much tied up with their parents- hence the ‘misbegotten’ of the title.

There are wrong assumptions and misunderstandings, especially over what they actually desire, and many moments in which there are two steps forward and one step backward, before a finale when their true feelings are laid bare. I called it a bomb earlier but I don’t want to imply the end is explosive- it’s softer and more moving than that, but there are some dramatic incidents on the way.

Rebecca Frecknall’s slow unwinding of the play would not be so mesmerising  without actors of the calibre of Ruth Wilson and Michael Shannon, not to mention the inimitable David Threlfall, who totally convinces as a wily old farmer whose twinkling eyes betray his love for his daughter.

Tom Scutt’s circular set, made of battered wood conveys the poverty of the farm business. Jack Knowles’ lighting design centres on a moving spot high up at the back of the stage which moves its beam across the scene and the characters. It powerfully represents a moon which witnesses and encourages their revelations.

Maybe O’Neill could have written a shorter play, but I wouldn’t want to mess in any way with this perfect production.

A Moon For The Misbegotten can be seen at the Almeida Theatre until 16 August 2025. Buy tickets direct from the theatre.

Paul paid for his ticket.

Watch this review on YouTube

Read a roundup of other critics’ reviews here

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Theatre review: Top Hat at Chichester Festival Theatre

This summer’s musical treat

Chichester Festival Theatre


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Lucy St Louis & Phillip Attmore in Top Hat. Photo: Johan Persson

Every year I look forward to the Chichester Festival Theatre musical. Among the first class revivals of recent years have been Oliver!, South Pacific, Crazy For You with the incomparable Charlie Stemp, and Gypsy with Imelda Staunton. This year, they have chosen Top Hat, and, while it may not reach the heights of the aforementioned hits, it does not disappoint. There’s already an extensive UK tour booked for it, so you will have the chance to see for yourself.

Once again, Chichester have put together a mouth watering feast. Top Hat is primarily a tap dance show- it was written for Fred Astaire- and the dancing here is creme de la creme. Choreographed, as well as directed, by the great Kathleen Marshall, who was responsible for the London hit Anything Goes, the solo dances, the what you might call Fred and Ginger numbers and the chorus line work are all masterclasses in how it should be done. The sound of the tap is music in itself and 16 dancers or thereabouts combining to stamp the floor at the same time is explosive. The discipline, especially of the chorus lines, is genuinely awesome, as arm-in-arm they make a circular movement, all the while high kicking. Ms Marshall’s choreography is exuberant, uplifting and joyous.

A brief word about the story. A superstar tap dancer called Jerry falls in love with a woman called Dale but, owing to a misunderstanding, she thinks he’s his friend Horace, husband of her friend Madge. Spoiler alert- it all works out in the end.

Then there’s the music. Irving Berlin wrote 1500 songs throughout a long career but the five he wrote for the original film represent him at his peak and extending his ability to write songs that serve the story: No Strings establishes the carefree character of Jerry, as well as his prowess as a tap dancer; Isn’t This A Lovely Day starts with Jerry and Dale in a standoff but reveals her increasing attachment to him as the song progresses; Cheek To Cheek, the centrepiece of the musical, shows Jerry seducing Dale through the power of dance- a true representation of the saying ‘dance is the vertical expression of a horizontal desire, with climactic moments as he swings her through the air; and then there are the two big chorus line numbers Top Hat, White Tie And Tails and The Piccolino, which end the first act and begin the second in the stage version. All praise to Stephen Ridley and the 10 piece orchestra for their swinging sound.

Top Hat, released in cinemas in 1935, only became a stage musical in 2011 when it was adapted by Matthew White and Howard Jacques. There are many more Berlin tunes added, quite a few plundered from other Fred and Ginger movies, including Puttin’ On The Ritz, I’m Putting All My Eggs in One Basket, Let Yourself Go and Let’s Face The Music And Dance.

Top Hat at Chichester Festival Theatre. Photo: Johan Persson

The six principals are superb, and the ensemble is wonderful. The hardest task goes to Phillip Attmore. How to step into the shoes of Fred Astaire? Not to mention that the show itself refers to him as a world-class dancer. And, unlike the legendary star, he has to perform live. He may not quite be Fred Astaire (who is?) but he is a likeable lead and an accomplished dancer.

Lucy St Louis as Dale is the full package. She has a powerful singing voice, acts well and dances beautifully. For me she was a revelation, although I shouldn’t be surprised, because she’s already played Glinda in Wicked and Christine in The Phantom Of The Opera (you may have seen her perform at the Platinum Party At The Palace).

Clive Carter and Sally Ann Triplett as Horace and Madge provide a weight of experience and a huge dose of comedy. James Clyde as Horace’s servant Bates in various disguises, and Alex Gibson-Giorgio as Alberto, a comical Italian fashion designer and Dale’s would-be lover also keep the laughs coming. I know it’s no longer acceptable to make fun of foreigners who don’t speak English as well as us- ‘I am very displeased to meet you!’- but such lines were written a long time ago.

There is a great deal of funny lines, or perhaps corny jokes would be a better description. Here are a couple of examples: Horace is afraid of flying because the first word you see on signs at the airport is ‘Terminal’. He also explains that a man is incomplete until he’s married- ‘Then he’s finished.’ But that’s very much in the mood of this light comedy which, as I said, is about dance first, then music, and only then comedy to fill the gaps.

Peter McIntosh‘s luminous art deco set is very clever. The thrust stage is kept clear for dancing, although there are semi-circular rises.  At the back there is a revolve that swiftly takes us from one bedroom to another bedroom to a bar. He along with Yvonne Milnes also designed the costumes which have the loose, easy-going feel of the 1940s rather than slavishly copying the 1930s style of the film.

I left the auditorium on a high. Top Hat on stage may not have the wow factor of Crazy For You or Anything Goes. But then again there were no equivalent films to compare them with,  so it is disadvantaged by not being able to match  the perfection of the film. On the other hand, the fact that it is performed live, and you can see a group of supremely talented people right there in front of you creating beautiful, athletic, complex dance together to some of the greatest songs ever written, makes Top Hat at Chichester Festival Theatre, despite any imperfections,  a joy better than any flickering screen.

Top Hat can be seen at Chichester Festival Theatre until 6 September 2025. Buy tickets direct from the theatre

Paul was given a review ticket by the theatre.

Watch this review on YouTube

 

 

 

 

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Theatre review: Natalie Dormer in Anna Karenina at Chichester Festival Theatre

Game Of Thrones star soars in clipped Tolstoy

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Natalie Dormer in Anna Karenina. Photo: Marc Brenner

For the second time in less than a week, I’ve sat through a play more than three hours long. Stereophonic which I saw a few days ago was, for me, too long. But Anna Karenina was actually too short. It barely gave Tolstoy or Natalie Dormer the chance to show off their brilliance. It was a good try but fell short of doing justice to a great novel.

At three hours, this stage adaptation by Phillip Breen can only hope to present a fraction of Tolstoy’s novel which runs to 38 hours on Audible. Mr Breen has chosen to try to tell the stories of all three of the main women: Anna, Dolly and Kitty. As a result none of them get a full swing at their characters in the time available.
Nevertheless the actors give impressive performances, not least Natalie Dormer as Anna who, within the scope she is given, brings a tornado of emotion to the role, so much so you find yourself longing for her next moment on stage. She has a rich colorata voice like a full bodied red wine, and her piercing eyes and curling mouth give passion to her words.
Naomi Sheldon as Dolly is wonderfully over the top as she harangues her useless philandering husband, bemoans her ageing body and rails against everything with a tirade of very modern expletives. Incidentally I thought the use of contemporary, particularly sexual, terms, while anachronistic, did work well as shorthand for the characters’ feelings.
Kitty was the most one dimensional of the main protagonists but Shalisha James-Davis made the most of this woman constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown, as she assesses her obsessive suitor-then-husband.
The actors certainly convey the essence of their characters but inevitably much colour is lost. A great deal of narrative is also lost to what much of the time becomes a plot summary.
So, what is the plot? Anna is dissatisfied with ordinary family life and her husband Karenin, a seemingly nice, tolerant chap, and nicely played by Tomiwa Edun. She leaves him for a more passionate life with her lover Vronsky, whose fire cracker character is beautiully conveyed by Seamus Dillane. However, this being the mid 19th century, and she finds herself ostracised from society and separated from her children. Worse still, she begins to doubt Vronsky’s faithfulness. In fact all the men seem to have a roving eye whether they act upon it or not.
Two other unhappy relationships are explored. Levin, played with passion by David Oates, loves Kitty but she resists him. She thinks he will be unfaithful because of his past record of bed hopping. Eventually she is reassured and marries him but her doubts continue right up to a traumatic childbirth.
Dolly is already well into a marriage and has many children. Her husband Stiva gambles and womanises, in a splendidly spineless characterization by Jonnie Broadbent, and she constantly rails at him and at her own lack of attractiveness.
The problem with this filleting approach is that we lose much of the complexity of the characters and their lives. Rather than the flesh, we get the bare bones of the plot. When it comes down to it, plot is only the structure on which good novels or plays build their characters’ development. In this adaptation we are given three women who don’t trust their partners, shout and cry a lot, and end more or less happier than they began. And Tolstoy’s novel is a great deal more than that.
Anna Karenina at Chichester Festival Theatre. Photo: Marc Brenner

The other challenge is how to design it. The open Chichester stage doesn’t allow for solid scenery, except at the very back. So how to present horses and trains, very important components of this story? Since the adaptor Phillip Breen is also the director, we can assume he had a hand in the approach.

Although Max Jones’ exciting design is busy with many chairs that are moved around, the most noticeable aspect is a nursery theme. Children’s toys are scattered round the stage- dolls houses, horses, a train set. It serves to emphasise, perhaps, that women in this period are still treated like children in terms of their rights. I’m pretty sure the doll’s houses were meant to remind us of Ibsen’s play about another woman trapped in domesticity, a part which Natalie Dormer surely must play. The train set reminds us that the world is changing: modern inventions such as the railways and electricity have arrived. While the former is central to the story, the latter is also given its moment in the spotlight, so to speak, in the form of tubes of light which descend and form, of course, a cage.
The wooden horses come in handy as substitutes for the real thing but frankly the sight of a man shooting an ‘injured’ one was comical- shades of Monty Pyhton and Spamalot. And when Les Dennis in a delightful cameo as the world weary servant Petka drives a carriage drawn by rocking horse, it’s silly rather than amusing. I would rather have used my imagination more, something which we had to do, when it came to the all important train.
I liked many of the effects. The trio of Japanese musicians who played Paddy Cunneen’s edgy music. The way the large cast ( and there are nineteen named actors) sat in chairs at the back of the stage, especially the moment they scraped cutlery together during a dining scene.
There are too many short scenes which become messy but there are some scenes which really hit home, like Anna’s secretive visit to see her son. A rare moment when you really understand profoundly what she has given up.
This adaptation of Tolstoy’s novel is a brave attempt but, like Scott’s trek to the South Pole, it falls short of total success.
Anna Karenina can be seen at Chichester Festival theatre until 28 June 2025. Buy tickets directly here.
Paul was given a review ticket by the theatre.
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Review: Jack Lowden & Martin Freeman in The Fifth Step

Two screen stars excel in black comedy about addiction

@sohoplace

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Martin Freeman & Jack Lowden in The Fifth Step. Photo: Johan Persson

The most important thing to say about The Fifth Step is, it’s very funny. Yes, it’s about two recovering addicts, one taking the first steps in the Alcoholics Anonymous programme, the other his older sponsor. Yes, there are shocking revelations and even violence. Yes, it explores trust in authority, toxic masculinity, lack of self esteem, and self deception but it’s written by David Ireland, the master of black comedy responsible for Cyprus Avenue and The Ulster American. And it stars Jack Lowden, who’s River Cartwright from Slow Horses, and Martin Freeman of Sherlock and The Hobbit fame. I can’t imagine any pair of actors doing it a better job of balancing over-the-top humour and mental anguish.

Jack Lowden and Martin Freeman are on stage continuously for the entire hour-and-a-half. The wonderful in-the-round stage of @sohoplace has never been better used. Milla Clarke‘s set is minimal, with a few collapsible chairs and a table that can be brought out or tucked away, as needed. There is nowhere for the actors to hide, any more than their characters can, no matter how much they try. Director Finn Den Hertog choreographs the movement of the actors and furniture, like a boxing match. And, if we’re going for metaphors, there’s also a raised edge that the characters can walk along precariously between scenes. Because these are men on the edge.

Jack Lowden is Luka, a newly recovering addict nearing the fifth step of the AA programme, Martin Freeman is James, an older mentor who has been through it and offers his experience to the younger man. At first, Luka is man who needs help. He doesn’t know what to do or where to turn once he has given up drink. Jack Lowden gives Luka teary eyed desperation as he says, “I think I might be an incel.” James offers wisdom and advice, but whatever crutch Luka reaches for, like a bouncing puppy with wide-eyed hope,  James moves him on- ‘don’t go to the pub, don’t masturbate, don’t have an affair with a married woman, don’t believe in Jesus.’ These are some of the funniest moments, as when sexist Luka speaks in a filthy way about women, without seeing the problem, while an exasperated James makes wry, often cynical,

It turns out that neither of them are fully to be believed. The two actors excel at conveying and concealing layers of truth. At first Martin Freeman is smiling, firm in his pronouncements, with a gimlet eye on Luka, but there is something about his controlling manner and his pointing finger that make you wonder about him even from the start. The meetings between the two continue and Luka gains in self esteem, until they reach the fifth step, which is confession about the harm their addiction may have done.

It’s then that we see what happens when faith is exploited and trust breaks down.  The newly confident Luka challenges his mentor as revelations about James’ contradictory instructions and hypocritical behaviour emerge. When that happens, James starts to break down with an aggressive defensiveness that includes nasty insults and actual, truly shocking violence near the end (it drew a gasp form the audience and was one of the best choreographed fights I’ve seen). Questions about the nature and abuse of authority come to the fore, already primed by earlier references to abuse of children by priests.

I felt the ending was silly, soft and rather sentimental, after such searing black comedy, and I could have done without so much reference to the importance of spiritual belief, even if there are some good jokes about it. Nevertheless, this is such a funny and profound play, and so well acted, I am happy to overlook those slight flaws, and thoroughly recommend The Fifth Step.

The Fifth Step is at @sohoplace until 26 July 2025. Buy tickets from the theatre here.

Paul paid for his own ticket.

Click here to watch this review on the YouTube channel Theatre Reviews With Paul Seven

Click here to read Paul’s roundup of other critics’ reviews of The Fifth Step.

 

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Theatre Review: Stereophonic at the Duke Of York’s

Long but rewarding look at the creative process

Stereophonic at the Duke of York’s.Photo: Marc Brenner

When I heard Stereophonic was coming to London, I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It holds the record for Tony nominations for a play and won the Award for Best Play.  So the light was attractive but it turned out that the destructive flame was my lack of interest in rock music, let alone the factory that produces the sausage. Once the three hour play began, I soon remembered why it was not likely to be my sniff of cocaine. So how did I get on with the story of a rock band spending a year in a recording studio?

If the Amazon Prime drama series Daisy Jones & The Six, or Get Back, the eight hour trilogy of films documenting the Beatles’ recording of Let It Be, whetted your appetite for delving into the Babylon of the 1970s that gave birth to some of our greatest popular music, then this show will be for you.
For me, interminable conversations between the various band members about their relationships, and about the recordings, that made up the first half were alleviated only by the songs themselves. Written by Will Butler, formerly of Arcade Fire, they are actually pretty good pastiches of seventies rock. To be fair, there was some witty dialogue by the author of the play David Adjmi.
The unnecessarily long first half sets up a much more interesting second half. As relationships break up, tensions between the band rise, and questions are raised about the nature of creativity, the play, directed by Daniel Aukin, becomes more and more gripping.
Here’s the plot: in the mid 1970s a rock band are recording their second album. The five members are a mix of British and American, and comprise two couples plus the drummer. As they begin their work in the studio, word comes through that a single from their first album and then the album itself are climbing the charts. Suddenly much more money is made available to them by the record company. This turns out to be a case of ‘be careful what you wish for’, because, without the discipline of a time limit, paranoia and perfectionism run unbridled, and the recording extends in length to a year.
The entire play, in four acts, takes place in the studio, so we as an audience feel as trapped as the band in this cramped timeless space, reminiscent of a scenario by Samuel Beckett. Three hours of repetition with the same seven faces start to seem like a year. Designed by David Zinn, the set is constructed in meticulous detail, with the recording booth behind glass at the back of the stage, and the mixer desk and relaxation area at the front.
The most interesting character is the band leader and driving force, Peter, given an edgy performance by Jack Riddiford. It is a stunning portrayal of an artistic genius, who is never satisfied with the quality of the work. His increasingly controlling nature, combined with an absence of social skills, annoys all those present. He combines long silences, lack of consultation, and cutting criticism with a self centred unawareness of his effect on others.
In particular he picks on his longtime girlfriend Diana, played by Lucy Karczewski. Not entirely coincidentally, she has written their hit single and is contributing as many songs as him to the new album. Whether it’s professional jealousy or his desire to dominate her, he deliberately undermines her confidence in both her writing and singing, leading to an increasingly fraught relationship.
Zachary Hart gives life to bass player Reg. His brain is so addled with alcohol he can hardly put one foot in front of the other but can still lay down a great bass line. His behaviour is to the detriment of his relationship with his wife and the band’s keyboard player Holly played by Nia Towle. As he begins to replace his addiction to drink with new addictions to various forms of lifestyle and philosophy, he becomes a proselytiser looking to buttonhole and bore anyone he meets with his New Age beliefs.
Simon the drummer has been away from his family for far too long, and, while he seems like the level headed one, exhaustion leads to moments of ego and insecurity. Chris Stack cleverly adopts a calm, slightly strangulated voice that hides his character’s anxieties. We also see why common sense like his will not get the best out of this creative process.
The two women are not respected by the men, despite the quality of their work, and ironically they are underdeveloped as characters in the play. Their generally down-to-earth behaviour with occasional outbursts only hints at their troubled lives rather than revealing what drives them. This especially applies to Diana whose talent for writing appears to come from nowhere. Her lack of confidence turns out to be the product of her destructive relationship with Peter, but we get little insight into how she would got herself into the situation or how she can get out of it.
Trying to hold things together is recording engineer Grover, a masterful portrait of nerves, obsequiousness and frustration, from Eli Gelb. His hapless assistant Charlie played by Andrew R Butler provides much needed light relief. Like Chris Stack, these two are from the original Broadway cast.
I don’t want to give the impression it’s all argument and mental breakdown, there is also humour in the bickering and banter of David Adjmi’s natural sounding conversations.
Eventually the album is finished but the battle to produce it has left many casualties. At times, I felt like one of them. However the second act goes a long way to redeeming the first. I think how highly you rate this play may depend on your interest in the subject matter because, unlike say Dear England and its exploration of leadership in a football setting, Stereophonic’s study of the creative process doesn’t take you far enough beyond its rock music context.
Stereophonic can be seen at the Duke Of York’s Theatre until 11 October 2025. Click here to buy tickets directly from the theatre.
Paul received a review ticket from the producer.
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