Tag: robert jones

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The Sound of Music – Chichester – Review

The sound of Rodgers & Hammerstein conquers all

★★★★

Gina Beck and children in The Sound of Music. Photo: Manuel Harlan

I arrived at Chichester Festival Theatre with a lot of prejudice against The Sound Of Music. I’ve never liked nuns (don’t ask), the use of children is so often manipulative, the story is sweeter than aspartame, and the plot is flimsy to nonexistent. And yet Adam Penford‘s production conquered me as surely as Maria wins over Captain Von Trapp.

You’ve almost certainly seen the film version of The Sound Of Music. You’ve definitely heard some of the songs because the soundtrack was the UK’s second best selling album of the 1960s (only Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band outsold it) and it’s still the third best selling soundtrack album of all time. So, even though it came first, the stage show is overshadowed by its screen offspring.
Not that there’s a problem with Maria. Gina Beck brings out all her inner Julie Andrews and more besides to give us a joyful but conflicted character torn between her wish to serve God and her love of the secular world. Her voice is terrific. As is that of Janis Kelly who plays the Mother Abbess. It’s an inspired idea to have an opera singer in this role, giving the part an added authority, and a striking contrast between her maturity and Maria’s youth, when they duet on My Favorite Things. She sends us out of the auditorium at the end of both acts with a rendition of Climb Ev’ry Mountain that is spine tingling.
No matter how saccharine you think the film is, the stage musical is sweeter. If there were ever any sharp edges to any of the characters, they’ve been well and truly sandpapered. The plot verges on the invisible: there’s a romance with the smallest of bumps in the road to marriage, and a slight touch of peril at the end. (At least the film increases the peril.)
Just to remind you, a novice nun goes to help a widower bring up his children, he is buttoned up, she is open in her emotions, he relaxes, they fall in love. In the background, there’s a battle between good and evil as the Nazis from Germany take over Austria and the von Trapps are forced to flee. Although, when I say ‘evil’, the Nazis’ main fault seems to be bad manners.
Then there’s what we sometimes refer to as the attitudes of the time it was written, in this case 1958 when a woman is encouraged to follow every rainbow till she finds her dream, provided her dream is to find a man who will protect her and whom she can look after.
But none of this matters, because we have the gift of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s songs. There have been some recent productions of their musicals where a modern eye has been cast over their perceived shortcomings, but here director Adam Penford has decided not to mess with this classic, and simply let those songs speak from the hearts of their creators to the hearts of the audience.
While The Sound Of Music can seem like a massive step backward from the ground-breaking Oklahoma! which launched their partnership, not to mention South Pacific, Carousel and The King And I. I mean, where is the grittiness, where are the challenges to our thoughts and feelings, where is the driving narrative? But in some ways, it is more modern than its predecessors in that the plot is treated as an excuse to show off a concept about the power of song. Song is the driving force for good in the musical: the hills are alive with it, and it’s the pure emotion of the songs, rather than a narrative, through which characters are explored and developed.
From the title song, to Maria (as in How do we solve a problem like), to  My Favorite Things, Do-Re-Mi, Sixteen Going On Seventeen, The Lonely Goatherd, So Long Farewell, Edelweiss and Climb Ev’ry Mountain, the songs provide a lasso that captures your heart, so that what your head thinks really doesn’t matter.
Not that the songs are entirely beyond criticism- I can’t knock Richard Rodgers’ music but Oscar Hammerstein’s lyrics can grate a bit at times. It’s a shame the soaring power of Climb Ev’ry Mountain is slightly undermined by the greetings card lyrics:
A dream that will need, All the love you can give
Every day of your life, For as long as you live.
Then again, he wrote: How do you keep a wave upon the sand? How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand? And of course: Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens, which may sound like a random search for videos on YouTube but work perfectly.

Exceptional singing

Indeed, the greatest strengths of this production are to do with the sound of the music:  the exceptional quality of singing of all the cast, the stirring orchestral adaptations by Larry Blank and Mark Cumberland, and the vigorous orchestra under Matt Samer.
In contrast to the film, some of the key characters are much less interesting in the original stage version. Maria’s love rival Elsa is very nice and that’s about it. even though she is given a vivacious portrayal in this production by Emma Williams. In fact, this is the one aspect of the original stage musical with which Adam Penford appears to have messed. In both the stage and film versions, Elsa is a ‘wealthy socialite’ or, to put it another way, a member if the idle rich. Here she is described as the CEO of a large corporation which, and if I’m wrong I apologise, appears to be an addition to the dialogue. It may be an attempt to acknowledge to a modern audience that marriage and motherhood are not the only choices available to women. However, since she is the rival of our heroic singing housewife Maria, there is a risk that, far from being admired, Elsa may be disparaged for being a career woman.
The character of Captain Georg von Trapp has none of the depth of Christopher Plummer’s movie version. Likeable as his portrayal is, Edward Harrison simply doesn’t have enough to work with. Ako Mitchell impresses as his warm, humorous but ultimately spineless friend Herr Detweiler.
And of course, dammit, along with whiskers on kittens and warm woollen mittens, there are the children. Much as you know you’re being manipulated, it’s hard for your resistance not to crumble when the children are as good as this. Let’s not count the almost adult Liesl, who is beautifully played by Lauren Conroy. It’s the other six, and of course the smallest, Gretl, most of all, who touch us with their enthusiasm and innocence. In fact, on the night I saw the show, Gretl disappeared almost as soon as the show began, and after a short break was replaced by Felicity Walton who was superb.
They may be children but they are not amateurish. Two teams alternate (I saw the Yellow team plus Felicity from the Green team). I don’t doubt each team is equally accomplished, as they confidently sing, act and dance.
The Sound of Music. Photo: Manuel Harlan

This is a good point at which to compliment the choreographer Lizzi Gee, a name always associated with the highest quality of work. You can also see the results of her creativity currently in Groundhog Day at The Old Vic. In this production, she presents one joyous routine after another inspired by and enhancing the music. There’s the gaucheness of young love between Liesl and Rolf (played by Dylan Mason) in Sixteen Going On Seventeen which sees them at first tentative in their contact until they end up splashing delightfully in a fountain. The Captain and Maria share a thrilling first dance which tells you all you need to know about their feelings for one another. The complex movements of the seven children show both their capacity for fun and their unity as a family. (Captain Von Trapp himself could not have produced more disciplined kids.)

I have one disappointment to report: the set. It’s surprising because Robert Jones has a great track record but I just don’t think his design works on this occasion. Leaving the thrust stage pretty empty is a good idea because there’s a big cast and a lot going on, without bits of set to manoeuvre around. However, the backdrop is dark hewn rock capped off by the shape of a mountain range. This may be intended to represent the Alps but, unlike those ‘friendly’ peaks, it is gloomy and claustrophobic. The abbey, the von Trapp house and the concert hall are conjured up by pieces of scenery in front of it. There is no sense of the Austrian open air, sky and nature that Maria and the Captain love and that is meant to add contrast to the confines of the Abbey and the darkness of the Nazis.
Where it does work is in the concert hall, venue for the von Trapp family’s public performance, when it is draped with swastikas, while Nazi soldiers stand in the aisles of the auditorium- a truly chilling moment.
So my prejudices were swept aside by the sound of Rodgers and Hammerstein. Whatever your mood going in, you will feel better when you leave, having seen good conquer evil, and love conquer all.
The Sound of Music continues at Chichester Festival Theatre until 3 September 2023
Paul was given a review ticket by the producer.
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Dancing at Lughnasa – National Theatre -review

Derry Girls fill the Olivier stage with their grand performances


★★★★

Actors dancing on stage in a production of Dancing At Lughnasa at the National Theatre London in April 2023
Blaithin Mac Gabhann, Alison Oliver, Louisa Harland and Siobhan McSweeney in Dancing at Lughnasa. Photo: Johan Persson

Brian Friel‘s Dancing at Lughnasa has come to be regarded as a modern masterpiece. The National Theatre first staged it straight after its 1990 Dublin premiere. Now this intimate play is back there on the huge Olivier stage in a new production directed by Josie Rourke.

Siobhan McSweeney and Louisa Harland from Derry Girls play two of five unmarried sisters approaching middle age whose life is suddenly upended in 1936. The story seemed relevant to 1990, but does it still seem like a masterpiece 30 years on?

Dancing at Lughnasa is a multi layered play which is part of the reason it’s so riveting to watch. For a start, it’s a memory play, which in this case means that a narrator tells us at the beginning and at points during the evening that what are witnessing is from his memory, mainly from when he was seven years old. So straightaway, the play raises questions about the reliability of memory but also about the nature of writing itself. Did all that happens really occur in the space of a couple of months, or is it memory (or the writer) rearranging them for the sake of a more dramatic narrative?

This leads us to think about what is true- whether facts are truth or whether fiction tells us a greater truth about life. Ostensibly a play about five unmarried sisters, it is about human relationships universally: what holds them together, what may drive them apart. And those same questions apply to much larger communities.

Running through the play is the eternal battle between body and mind, id and ego. Lughnasa is an annual Irish harvest festival dating back to pre-Christian times, taking place at the beginning of August. It’s a time of all kinds of celebratory activities dedicated to pagan gods: walking up hills, picking wild bilberries, and, yes, dancing. So, while it was appropriated by the Catholic Church, in essence it opposes the asceticism of Christianity, and encourages physical release.

All this aside, its core is a funny and sad description of the lives of a family under pressure. The five sisters, who for one reason or another, are unmarried and live together, without parents, in poverty. They are moving into middle age realising they are too old to find a husband or indeed to dance. They still dream of doing both at the Lughnasa festival.

They rely almost entirely on the income from the oldest, Kate, who is a teacher. Kate is straightlaced and sees it as her job, to be a quasi-mother. Although she tries to hold firm to her Christian principles, the cracks in this façade constantly show. Played by Justine Mitchell, we feel the tension of her trying to hold herself aloof but constantly bewildered and tempted by her wilder sisters. And she shows her joy when she lets herself go.

Maggie is the heart of the home. She cooks and plays, she also has the clearest vision, realising what feelings are being suppressed, and able to defuse tense situations with a joke or a song. Siobhan McSweeney, whom many will recognise from the TV series Derry Girls, is tremendous in this complex role. Just to spend the whole evening watching her eyes, sizing up situations and wondering how best to respond, would be a masterclass in acting.

Agnes and Rose provide the household with some additional income by making gloves. Agnes, played by another Derry Girls alumna Louisa Harland, is quiet; Rose, played with sensitivity by Blaithin Mac Gabhan, has a learning disability. The others recognise her vulnerability and the need to protect her, at which they are not always successful.

The youngest sister Chris is the unmarried mother of Michael who, as an adult, is our narrator. Alison Oliver gives her a brittle naivety, particularly remarkable is the way she comes to life when she sees her child’s father.

The power of dance

We are told by the narrator, played by Tom Vaughan-Lawlor in flat, almost neutral terms, what is going to happen, and, at the end, what happened after the family broke up. This makes watching the play is akin to watching a car crash in slow motion.

Tom Vaughan-Lawler in Dancing at Lughnasa. Photo: Johan Persson

Director Josie Rourke deserves every award going for the way she has brought this production together. I’ve already indicated that the casting is perfect., but there is also the challenge of presenting an intimate play on the enormous Olivier stage. Her designer Robert Jones achieves this by creating a circle that follows the arc of the edge of the thrust stage. Within that is placed a really quite small platform representing the main living area of the house, thus retaining the play’s intimacy. In front of this room is a yard or play area, a space mainly occupied by the child Michael (whom we never actually see, as everything is seen by him). Behind, a hill rises, (a metaphor perhaps for this family being at the bottom in society, but also a nod to the hill climbing that is part of Lughnasa rituals). At the top is ripe corn ready to harvest and at the back what look like hanging string or chain curtains onto which are projected images of the sky but which also seem to trap the people below.

In Josie Rourke‘s precise direction of the cast around the tight living area, you can literally see how close the sisters are physically as well as emotionally. when they trek away from the house, you feel the separation.

So what are the disruptive events that destroy this family? Firstly, there is the arrival of two men, both in their different ways damaging the reputation of the family. They are caricatures compared with the sisters but this can be interpreted as being Michael’s memory of them. It does have the effect of making them very amusing.

The sisters’ older brother Jack returns from missionary work in Africa, mentally confused at first, but eventually revealing his change from Catholic priest to believer in paganism. It’s an hilarious performance from Ardal O’Hanlan, as he talks almost in a stream of consciousness, oblivious to the effect on others of the shocking things he is saying. One of the funniest moments is when he keeps unconsciously grabbing a sheet his sisters are attempting to fold, symbolising his disruption of their ordered world. His rejection of Catholicism seems to be the reason Kate loses her teaching job, and the family her income.

Michael’s father, a feckless charmer called Gerry, also turns up. Something of a man-child, he appropriately spends most of his visits in the garden, making many promises he cannot keep before disappearing again. Having tried and failed at many jobs, he has decided to join the International Brigade, who are fighting for democracy against the catholic church-supported dictator Franco. Played by Tom Riley, he is a likeable character, and he loves dancing. Dancing seems to be the thing that still unites him and Chris. And dancing is in the title of the play for a reason.

Which brings me to the third disrupter: the new wireless set. It is not news from the outside world that changes their lives, but music, because hearing music inspires them to dance.

As the narrator tells us: ‘Dancing as if language had surrendered to movement- as if this ritual, this wordless ceremony, was now the way to speak, to whisper private and sacred things, to be in touch with some otherness.’

Two of the best scenes in this production are once when Irish music plays on the radio and, slowly but then with increasing pace, the sisters start to dance, even eventually Kate, until they are frenetically jigging round the tiny kitchen, jumping and high kicking with abandon. It’s a glorious moment, thanks to the women of the cast and choreographer Wayne McGregor. Then, later in the play, when Anything Goes is playing on the wireless, two of the characters combine in an erotic dance that reveals their feelings, and changes relationships forever.

Then there is the glove factory that opens- the industrial revolution has finally arrived in their small corner of Ireland- and it puts Aggie and Rose out of work.

So this small community is a microcosm of what happened to Western society as a whole, as seen from the end of the 20th century. The family dynamics at the centre of Dancing at Lughnasa remain fascinating and totally believable, and the dialogue is still a joy. But, nearly a quarter way through the 21st century,  we have moved on. Now we are grappling with the changes wrought by digital technology which in very different ways is revolutionising our society and the way we relate to one another. Consequently, the play’s nostalgia isn’t what it used to be, and it no longer packs quite the punch it once did.

Nevertheless, a great production of a still brilliant piece of writing.

Dancing at Lughnasa can be seen at the National Theatre until 27 May 2023

Paul received a complimentary review ticket from the theatre

3 May 2023: I might have added when talking about Siobhan McSweeney’s acting skills that all the sisters use their eyes to great effect.

Click here to watch this review on YouTube

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The Unfriend by Steven Moffat, dir. Mark Gatiss, starring Reece Shearsmith – review

Triumphant comedy debut from Doctor Who & Sherlock writer


★★★★★

Production photo from The Unfriend at the Minerva Theatre in Chichestershowing Amanda Abbington Frances Barber and Reece Shearsmith May 2022
Amanda Abbington, Frances Barber & Reece Shearsmith in The Unfriend. Photo: Manuel Harlan

What connects Doctor Who, Sherlock, The League Of Gentleman and No 9? The answer is The Unfriend, a new laugh-a-minute comedy that’s just opened at Chichester Festival Theatre’s Minerva. I’ll give you all the connections in a moment.

For now, let’s just say that Steven Moffat, writer and show runner for Doctor Who, and creator of Sherlock, has finally got round to writing a stage play, at the age of 60. It’s encouraging for we older folk to think it’s never too late, but I doubt there are many playwrights of any age who could make such a triumphant debut. It’s a long time since I laughed so much at the theatre. The man has comedy bones. He knows how to make old jokes sound fresh and natural. He understands how to give the actors the opportunity to use their faces and their bodies.

And what actors. Frances Barber is a loud confident American who turns out to be a serial poisoner, Reece Shearsmith and Amanda Abbington are the couple she befriends and who then can’t get rid of her, because they’re too polite. Although much of the praise should go to Frances Barber’s bravura performance, I loved Reece Shearsmith’s comic timing and panic-stricken face.

First the connections. Steven Moffat is probably best known as a writer and eventually showrunner for Doctor Who during the first decade or so of its new incarnation. He then created the Benedict Cumberbatch Sherlock which was co-written by Mark Gatiss who directs The Unfriend and we know him from The League Of Gentlemen, which also starred Reece Shearsmith, who cowrites Inside No.9, and stars in The Unfriend, which also stars Amanda Abbington who was Watson’s wife in Sherlock and Frances Barber who played Madame Kovarian in Doctor Who when Steven Moffat was the show runner. So they know one another and they work well together.

When Elsa arrives at Peter and Debbie’s suburban English house, you get a glimpse of their front door which has the number 9 on it. A little in-joke maybe, but it’s a hint that we shouldn’t be surprised that it turns out she’s no simple pain in the neck. They soon discover she’s a serial murderer- and they’re  still too polite to chuck her out. You might think this a stretch but it’s absolutely believable, not least because they’re aware of their own embarrassment. This is a comedy of manners, literally.

It’s non stop laughter with Frances Barber, Reece Shearsmith & Amanda Abbington

mandaI suspect how much you like it may depend on how much you identify with the self-defeating politeness and embarrassment of our suburban English couple. If you are happy to complain about the service in a restaurant, talk to your doctor about intimate infections, and barter with salespeople, you may well find this plot unbelievable.

You might also refuse to suspend your disbelief because the characters seem too much like stereotypes. The overly polite Brits who won’t say what they’re thinking; the brash American who makes jokes about a woman who is obese. But the thing is, the whole world is divided between people who are non-confrontational person and those who are blunt-to the-point-of-rudeness. But, there’s more than that, because Steven Moffat subverts each stereotype. Peter is actually quite rude but he doesn’t express it verbally- for example, he ignores his neighbour even when he’s in the room talking to him. And our call-a-spade-a bloody-shovel American may be a killer but she has a positive effect on this disfunctional family. The previously grunting son and negative daughter- two more stereotypes who turn out to have depth, and beautifully played by Gabriel Howell and Maddie Holliday, become happy chatty loving kids. ‘She’s Murder Poppins,’ says Debbie.

Production photo from The Unfriend at the Minerva Theatre in Chichester showing Maddie Holliday, Frances Barber & Gabriel Howell in May 2022
Maddie Holliday, Frances Barber & Gabriel Howell in The Unfriend. Photo: Manuel Harlan

By the way, the neighbour is a classic bore, but he too serves a more subtle function by reminding us of the claustrophobia of suburban life with its low level, passive-aggressive (as Elsa says) rankling about boundary walls and parking spaces, and therefore why residents of estates might need to be overly polite just to prevent all hell breaking loose. The neighbour is played to droning but sly-eyed perfection by Michael Simkins.

We also meet a police officer who is not a stereotype, not in the sense of the hard cops you so often see in TV dramas. He is another character subject to shyness and embarrassment, and given a scene-stealing performance by Marcus Onilude.

Although it’s his theatrical writing debut, Steven Moffat hits the boards running. His understanding of the stage is impressive. The Unfriend has structure, varying pace, and flowing comedy.  You know how comedies sometimes crowbar the jokes or the situation or particular characters into the story? Not here. The jokes flow naturally (for example, Peter is so uptight, Elsa says he would sever a proctologist’s finger at the joint.) In fact, Mr Moffat doesn’t force anything. He gives room for Reece Shearsmith to contort his face with surprise or embarrassment, or Amanda Abbington to express purse-lipped annoyance.

The story doesn’t develop much in the second act, but the laughs keep coming, so I certainly didn’t worry about that. I assume a lot of credit should go to director Mark Gatiss for the comic timing and the exemplary way the stage is used by the actors.

The set by Robert Jones is a triumph. It can’t be easy to create a suburban middle-class home, when you have an audience on three sides. However, with wooden flooring, a staircase, an L-shaped sofa and see-through areas at the back for kitchen and lobby, combined with a projection of the exterior of the house, Mr Jones does just that.

In the second act, we continue on tenterhooks about whether Elsa will poison again. The funniest scene is triggered by the fact that Peter’s embarrassment inevitably extends to talking about toilet matters (I too am bending over backwards to be polite). So, there is an extended scene involving him trying to find a reason to examine the (what shall we say?) product of someone in the loo, in case they’ve been poisoned. Of course, our embarrassment as an audience is almost as acute as his.

If you do go to see The Unfriend, you might be anticipating the punchline long before it arrives, but you’re still likely to be applauding when it does.

The Unfriend performed at Chichester Festival Theatre’s Minerva until 9 July 2022 and transferred to the West End for the first three months of 2023

Paul received a complimentary press ticket from the producers.

Click here to watch this review on the One Minute Theatre Reviews YouTube channel

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Anne-Marie Duff in Sweet Charity – Donmar – Review

Anne-Marie Duff adds Wow Factor to excellent production of Sweet Charity

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Sweet Charity with book by Neil Simon, music by Cy Coleman and lyrics by Dorothy Fields.

This would be an excellent production with any musical star but Anne-Marie Duff adds a wow factor. She may not be as good a singer or dancer as those who’ve made a career out of musicals but she can sing and she can dance and she brings to the part all the emotional depth of a great actor. You feel her pain and you feel her ecstasy, and her pick-yourself-up-and-try-again smile is infectious.

Production shot of Anne-Marie Duff in Sweet Charity at the Donmar Warehouse. Photo by Johan Persson
Anne-Marie Duff in Sweet Charity. Photo: Johan Persson

Charity is a taxi dancer in the 1960s. If you don’t know what that is (and I didn’t), it’s someone who works in a club where punters can hire them for a dance, and sometimes more. Charity believes in love. Despite being conned and let down many times, she remains an optimist and keeps looking for love. When things go wrong, she simply changes reality to suit her romantic view of love.

Ironically, despite being no virgin, she remains an innocent, which is the essence of her vulnerability but it’s also her strength. You could simply dismiss her as a naive fool, instead her way of seeing the best in people and not losing hope is inspirational. We want her to find love, even though we fear she won’t.

Anne-Marie Duff is perfect for the part. Her song-and-dance rendering of If My Friends Could See Me Now complete with a routine with a top hat and cane perfectly conveys Charity’s child-like unaffectedness. And her I’m A Brass Band is a joyous expression of what it feels like to be in love.

Production shot of Anne-MarieDuff and Arthur Darrell in Sweet Charity at The Donmar Wrehouse in London. Photo: Johan Persson
Anne-MarieDuff (left) and Arthur Darrell in Sweet Charity. Photo: Johan Persson

But it’s not a one woman show.

Arthur Darvill as Charity’s shy insecure boyfriend and Martin Marquez as a charming and charmed (by Charity) film star are both superb. Most of all there are the women who make up the rest of the taxi dancers. Their performance and reprise of Big Spender are astonishing. In the intimate setting of the Donmar where the audience is only four rows deep, these women saying ‘Let me show you a good time?’ is very personal.

Production shot of Charlotte Jaconelli and the ensemble in Sweet Charity at The Donmar in London. Photo by Johan Persson
Charlotte Jaconelli and the ensemble in Sweet Charity. Photo: Johan Persson

The stunning choreography by Wayne McGregor, paying homage to the original work by Bob Fosse, evokes Cabaret and Chicago. Robert Jones’ set, a simple open stage with silvery props and furniture inspired by Andy Warhol’s 1960s Silver Factory, suggests Charity’s bright optimism in a harsh world.

What a way for director Josie Rourke to bow out as Artistic Director of the Donmar.

Sweet Charity can be seen at the Donmar until 8 June 2019

Here’s the link to the YouTube review of Sweet Charity

Review revised on 18 April to add further description of design.

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