STEEL
MAGNOLIAS
at
the Queen's Theatre Hornchurch
21.09.2015
Robert
Harling's classic tragicomedy, set in a Southern “beauty shop”,
is cleverly constructed for maximum effect. Joy and despair, tears
and laughter, with the one-liners, ripostes and put-downs equitably
shared amongst the six ladies.
The
Queen's do it proud. There's “pink plonk” for the interval, or an
exclusive Pink Magnolia cocktail, and, on opening night at least,
five dancers in jeans and check shirts for the wedding of Shelby and
Jackson.
A
superb stage design too [Dinah England], with a magnificent magnolia
tree beyond the salon – see its petals fall, replaced by fairy
lights as April turns to December. There's a practical pink basin, a
proper hood dryer, a chicken door-stop and plastic bug blinds
rippling in the breeze.
Liz
Marsh's production manages the moods and keeps the pace lively. Some
effective grouping, too, with the five ladies turning their curiosity
onto newbie Annelle, or gathering eagerly round the baby photo. Or
M'Lynn sitting quietly apart as the news of her selfless devotion to
her daughter breaks. The salon falls still as Shelby's final struggle
is recalled, before Clairee breaks the mood with a desperate joke.
Truvy's
is as much a community support group as a hairdresser's, and the
sense of strong, caring women coping with all that life throws at
them is at the heart of the production.
Six
excellent actors inhabit their roles: Queen's regular Sarah Mahony is
Truvy, with bold eye-shadow and a restless energy, Lucy Wells her
prayerful new apprentice. Shelby's warm, bubbly personality is
beautifully suggested by Gemma Salter's nuanced performance; Claire
Storey, as her mother, encompasses a huge emotional range, fussing
and fretting at the beginning, raging at the unfairness of fate at
the end. Their heart-to-heart in the gloom is the poignant turning
point of the drama.
The
two older ladies are nicely contrasted – Gilian Cally's wiry
Ouiser, ankle socks and galoshes, and Clairee, former first lady of
the town, glossily groomed, with racy red shoes. She's played to
perfection by Tina Gray, who first appeared at the Queen's in 1971.
Her every laugh is immaculately timed, her every word clearly
audible. Elsewhere the accents – impressively authentic – and the
wide stage meant that some lines were lost.
A
lively, warm-hearted version of a favourite play, firmly set in “too
colourful for words” 1980s Louisiana, but universal in its
sympathetic portrayal of six remarkable women, sharing the good times
and the bad in the humid intimacy of the beauty parlour.
photograph: Mark Sepple
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