LOVE, LOSS AND WHAT I WORE

LOVE, LOSS AND WHAT I WORE

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court Theatre

24.01.17

The joys and sorrows of women's lives, reflected in the wardrobe mirror. This show, by sisters Nora and Delia Ephron, takes its many monologues from Ilene Beckerman's book of the same name.

Like The Vagina Monologues – done to great acclaim at this address last year – it's often staged as a celebrity reading. Not here: Sally Ransom has set the action on a catwalk; there's some fashion-show strutting, too, with music tracks to match.

But no clothes-hanger mannequins, just seven ordinary women; all of the actors successfully suggest the triumphs and the tribulations behind the boots and the purses, the skirts and the socks. And they also open up in the programme about the one garment that means most to them personally.

The confessional style works well in the monologues: the inspired “Hate my purse” soliloquy, the perfect shirt, the touching Southern fantasy, immediately followed by the searing “that's my dress!” trauma. There are ensemble numbers, too: The “Black!” sextet [all the costumes are black, too, save for the wordless three brides number], the three sisters, the changing room, the brassiere parade, the “nothing to wear” sequence. Perhaps some of them could be snappier; a greater variety of pace would help keep the audience engaged.

Stephanie Yorke-Edwards plays Gingy, the artist and author whose collection of clothes sketches became the book and then the play. She is particularly moving as the “forgotten woman” grandmother at the end, who realises that her personal thoughts were personal to other people too. Her six fellow actors play many characters, from the ungrateful teenagers to the mastectomy survivor. They are Jacquie Newman, Sally Rawlins, Leanne Young, Charlotte Norburn, Caroline Dunsmuir and Helen Quigley.

Between them they bring to life a huge variety of American women, fearlessly sharing their secrets and their love-hate relationships with the clothes in their closet.

GASLIGHT

CTW at the Old Court Theatre, Chelmsford

09.12.16

Patrick Hamilton's classic thriller relies heavily on atmosphere, both physical and psychological.

For some reason, perhaps to do with the raised stage, atmosphere seems hard to achieve at the Old Court.

But this polished production combines design, acting and directorial skills to produce a very impressive piece of theatre.

The oppressive Victorian parlour – designer Mark Tree – sets the mood, helped by sympathetic lighting, though I was not convinced by the gas lamps themselves.

The five principal roles were well cast; even the policeman looked Victorian.

Compelling performances from Sarah Bell as the young wife who's the victim of her sinister husband's mind games – a woman on the edge, tearful, desperate but strong at last as she gives the knife a final twist in the powerful dénouement. Her Manningham, all sneers and sideways glances, is chillingly done by Colin Smith; controlling and vindictive, he nonetheless eschews histrionics, rarely needing to raise his voice. The servants are nicely contrasted – Rachel Curran's kindly Elizabeth and Corinne Woodgate's flirtatious minx Nancy.

Andy Perrin is memorably compelling as “the celebrated Sergeant Rough” - a cheery soul, with a fondness for Scotch and sweet tea. We can suspect, with Bella, that he might be a dream, an angel, and yet he is reassuringly human, untangling the plot with an assured efficiency and a reassuring smile.

Like the set, the play is beautifully constructed, and Christine Davidson's production [Barry Taylor her assistant director] has many effective moments: the hurtful “theatre ticket” volte-face done at the swag curtains, the hard-hearted husband turning his back as he deftly changes the mood from fond consideration to cruel spite.

rehearsal photograph: Leanne Young

THE GHOST TRAIN

THE GHOST TRAIN

CTW at the Old Court Theatre

16.09.15

Opening the new CTW season, Arnold Ridley's museum piece, a nod, perhaps, to the “crowd-pleaser” season just past.

Good houses, though I suspect that Wednesday's audience was “a difficult crowd to entertain”. But a fine cast, directed by Iain Holding-Sutton, with Caroline Froy, made an excellent job of building suspense and maintaining the period style.

Ryan Read-Gaterell, for example, made a believable Charles, with Caroline Wright as his blushing bride. The character parts have the best of it, and we enjoyed Robin Winder's grumpy old station-master Saul, and Christine Davidson's imposing spinster, sitting in state behind The Times, and toppling hilariously off the wagon thanks to Teddie's handy hip-flask. This “idiot with the feather in his hat” was memorably done by Tonio Ellis, pushing the pace and pointing the laughs. And Jade Flack stood out in the smaller role of the madwoman who is not all she seems.

The spacious waiting room is convincingly reproduced, with pre-nationalization grime on the windows; unfortunately lighting angles caused annoying reflections once the action started. Ridley gave long explicit instructions for the steam train effects; nicely done at the Old Court, though a little more sound and a little more smoke would not have come amiss.

The brandy was still pre-war, but the contraband had now become narcotics rather than arms.

An impressive curtain call had the cast of twelve standing like commuters on a platform, as the ghost train roars through Fal Vale station one last time.

MIDSUMMER

MIDSUMMER

CTW at the Old Court Theatre

28.07.15

An end-of-season treat at the Old Court, a raw, rough-and-ready rom-com that follows two thirty-somethings through a “legendary lost weekend” in Edinburgh.

David Greig's engaging two-hander had something of a hit at the Traverse a few years ago; this production, directed by Lynne Foster, with Caroline Blom Brown, is a welcome chance for southerners to see it.

Medium Bob [Barry Taylor], piss-artist and very-small-time crook who once dreamed of rock-star fame, chances upon Helena, a divorce lawyer [Caroline Dunsmuir]. The fast and furious drama follows them from their first drunken night together [with running commentary] to a crazy orgy of spending, a picaresque romp through the capital's streets, Cathedral steps to IKEA car-park, encountering Goth kids, Japanese bondage, dancing lobsters and the man from Oddbins. There's a Q&A, bizarre “philosophical underpinnings”, a walk-on for Elmo from Sesame Street and a name-check for Kim Wilde, landscape gardener.

This is a play with music, so the story is glossed by some quirky original songs by Gordon McIntyre, with Taylor on guitar. The lyrics are in the programme, as well as a handy map of the city centre...

Both performances are very impressive, with excellent accents - maybe the social gulf between them could have been wider, though. Dunsmuir, who spends much of the time in a bridesmaid's dress, also gets to play a bone-headed underworld boss and her own young nephew, amongst other roles. A simple black-walled setting, with the vertical bed neatly echoed by the bondage cat's cradle opposite. Breathless pursuits through the not very chase-friendly auditorium add to the fun.

A worthwhile new play, in a fine production. Let's hope Midsummer is a good omen for CTW's new season, which opens on September 15 with Arnold Ridley's Ghost Train.

EARTHQUAKES IN LONDON

EARTHQUAKES IN LONDON

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at The Old Court

28.05.2015

Mike Bartlett's climate-change drama has big themes and a huge cast. It's an ambitious, thought-provoking piece of theatre which makes significant demands on any company bold enough to put it on stage.

CTW is at the top of its game in this production, directed by Danny Segeth with Vikki Pead. The performance space is remodelled to provide intimacy as well as epic scale, with two levels linked by a central staircase. In harmony with the eco message, everything used is recycled, and the live music [MD Cameron Price] is acoustic, organically integrated into the action.

The play explores the imminent crises of global warming and population explosion, through the eyes and the words of three generations. The time shifts from the sixties to a distant, dystopian future.

A big stretch technically, with so many areas to light, plus the band, and a screen to assist with narrative clarity.

Twelve excellent actors take on dozens of roles. Some, it is true, find their characters more successfully than others, but every one of them gives an impressively confident and truthful performance.

Laura Bradley plays the Liberty's girl as well as the old lady on Hampstead Heath, looking back to the days before Dunkirk as she awaits the gathering storm. Georgie Whittaker has an intriguing dual life as an autistic schoolboy whose role is dramatically redefined in one of several heart-stopping moments. Stefan Stuart is the impassioned protester Tom; Joe Kennedy a hopeless husband in a mid-life crisis.

The scientist who sells out to Robin Winder's polluting dollar is superbly done by James Christie. Naive and idealistic in his younger years, truculent and guilt-ridden in his sixties, it is an impeccably sustained, riveting performance, nicely offset by Helen Quigley as his long-suffering housekeeper. His three very different daughters, abandoned when their mother dies, are Evie Taylor, outstanding as an all too believable politician, Laura Hill as the troubled, and troublesome, wild child and Ruth Westbrook giving a searingly sincere performance in the pivotal role of Freya, the middle sister who's pregnant with the next generation, but feels overwhelmingly inadequate, to the despair of her husband [Ryan Read-Gatterell].

Secure versatility from Kelly McGibney and newcomer Tom Tull as, amongst others, the minister's PA, an aviophobic businessman and a polar bear.

It's a long show, and occasionally words are lost to pace and naturalism, but a seamless succession of short scenes sustains the impetus, and the intimate encounters are contrasted with some superlative physical ensembles.

Image from an original photograph by Tom Tull

WYRD SISTERS

WYRD SISTERS

CTW at the Old Court Theatre

14.04.15

This must be one of the most theatrical of the Discworld canon, with its delicious mix of Shakespeare and pantomime.

So a fitting choice for CTW, in what has become a tribute to Pratchett, who died as rehearsals were beginning.

We meet all the familiar characters: Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg, played with a fine comedy chemistry by Christine Davidson [who's been here before] and Sara Galvin.

Their New Age apprentice, Magrat Garlick, is played with naïve charm by Helena Bumpus. In this tale, she falls, understandably, for the youthful allure of Verence the Fool – seventeen years under the bladder - engagingly portrayed by Theo Perry, with his motley, his bells and his MiniMe poppet.

Duke Felmet and his ambitious wife, warped refugees from the Scottish play are Terry Cramphorn, forever trying to get the blood off his hands, with increasingly caustic solutions, and Andrea Dalton, in a strong performance redolent of Tenniel's Duchess. Making his CTW début, Ian Russell, turning the histrionics up to 11 in the dual role of the old king's spectre and the scenery-chewing actor-manager – somewhere between Vincent Crummles and the Player King - of the Dysk Theatre on the Ankh river.

A large supporting cast of peasants and players, in assorted Tudor clobber, including Alex Phillips as Tomjon the rightful heir, Caroline Froy as Mrs Vitoller, and David Johnson as Hwel the bard, author of Please Yourself and of the conscience-catching not-the-Mousetrap.

CTW's production, directed by Mark Preston and Sally Ransom, deploys its best lighting effect right at the start, on the blasted heath – the soundscape here, and elsewhere, very effective. The set is open and flexible, with fold-out detail for, amongst other things, the copper for Iain Holding-Sutton's foul fiend.

Good to see some new faces, some shameless fun, and a curtain call for Sir Terry at the end.

thanks to the directors and the Wyrd Sisters company for allowing me a sneak preview in a very busy week ...

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

AND THEN THERE WERE NONE

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court Theatre

02.03.15

Dame Agatha dragged kicking and screaming into the 21^st century. “There you go, a new version – up to date!” A “new imagining”, directed by Joe Kennedy and Alex Houlton.

The plot of her wartime hit – as splendidly improbable as Murder on the Orient Express – survives more or less intact. Like Kevin Elyot's reworking, it restores the bleaker ending of the novel, with only the crazed killer alive to tell the tale.

The setting is still that island off the Devon coast – cut off from the mainland, with no mobile signal. The holiday home – stylishly realised here, though I would have liked bigger figurines and the nursery rhyme incorporated somehow – has no heating, but a working DVD player, spookily replacing the phonograph for the disembodied voice.

And the ten guests still gather for a House Party, where one rings for the servants and one calls one's equals by their surname. The dialogue wobbles once or twice - “beyond questionable doubt” - “I have nothing with which to reproach myself for” - and do people still go to “the pictures” ?

Christie's characters make the transition with varied success. They're mostly far too young – even the one surviving Cluedo character – General Mackenzie [touchingly done by David Stutchbury]. The judge is now an attractive woman [played with compelling presence by Rhiannon Regan]. The husband and wife domestic staff have become Irish sisters [Sally Ransome and Marie McNulty] and the retired copper is now a feisty private detective, strongly characterized by Hannah Sanger-Gowers. Among the more successful portrayals are Debbie Miles' Miss Brent, forever quoting her unconvincing Bible, and Jacob Burtenshaw's pistol-packing “soldier of fortune”.

Inevitably there's a good deal of static exposition before the cyanide kicks in, but after the interval – when we get a chance to decide whodunnit – the pace is racked up, there's a tense “duel” between the two survivors and a pacy dénouement before we're left with a Red Right Hand and the mark of Cain ...

OUT THERE

OUT THERE

a new play for children by Danny Segeth

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

07.06.2014

Alison Woollard was at the Old Court matinée ...

Danny Segeth has taken the world of the Mexican Day of Dead and imagined what might happen if the dead could come back and strike up friendships with the living. This might sound like a morbid theme for a children’s play but the idea is interpreted with such charm and humour that the theatre was soon full of laughter and the young members of the audience seemed at ease with the idea that a skeleton could make a good friend.

Many theatrical devices were used effectively to create the world of the living and of the dead. Puppet skeletons created an instant rapport while shadow puppets conjured up fantasy worlds in the imaginations of the audience. Adult actors, James Christie and Leanne Johnson, quickly persuaded us that they were children full of enthusiasm, while Sarah Chandler, Dave Hawkes and Fabienne Handley manipulated the puppets and other props with energy and skill, creating busy roads or quiet graveyards in seconds. The Spanish flavour of the story was conjured up by the beautiful guitar playing of Kate Hutchins.

There are three performances of Out There still to come: Friday 13 June at 7.45, and Saturday 14 June at 11.30 am and 3 pm.

THINGS TO COME - CTW'S NEW SEASON

CTW announce their next season

So here it is, CTW's new “bums-on-seats” season 2014-2015. A whiff of weekly rep, perhaps, with farce and Christie in the mix, but a varied season, including sure-fire favourites at the Old Court like Stags and Hens, Terry Pratchett and Blackadder.

It all kicks off in September with Irish playwright Connor McPherson's 2009 reworking of the Daphne Du Maurier novella The Birds, best known of course in its Hitchcock incarnation.

And I'm pleased to see in amongst the crowd-pleasers one of the most innovative shows to come out of the National Theatre in recent years, Mike Bartlett's Earthquakes in London, and to end the season, Midsummer, a “play with songs” by David Greig & Gordon McIntyre, which had a successful run on the London Fringe - part love story, part Edinburgh guide, part drama and part philosophical treatise about today's middle-class, thirty-somethings ...

here's the complete season list:

The Birds by Connor McPherson (Daphne Du Maurier)
September 2014
The Haunting of Hill House by F. Andrew Leslie
October/November 2014
Blackadder's Christmas Carol by Richard Curtis and Ben Elton
December 2014
No Sex Please, We're British by Alistair Foot
January 2015
And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie
March 2015
Wyrd Sisters by Terry Pratchett
April 2015
Earthquakes in London by Mike Bartlett
May 2015
Stags & Hens by Willie Russell
June 2015
Midsummer by David Greig & Gordon McIntyre
July 2015

BLACKBIRD

BLACKBIRD

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court Theatre

14.03.13

Historic child abuse is one of the big stories of 2013. But David Harrower's compelling drama is a world away from high-profile television stars and music teachers.

We are in a soul-less staff room on an industrial estate, beautifully realised in the convincing set design. Into this harsh neon hell comes Una, to confront Ray, whom she last saw fifteen years ago when she was twelve. There are things he has to know, things she has to understand.

In this powerful production, directed by Mike and Sara Nower, the audience is, sometimes uncomfortably, a fly on the wall, as these strangers relive their little secret, sharing it all over again in a different squalor, in another distant town. Hard to watch, hard to look away as the carapace that enables them to live their lives is stripped mercilessly away.

Two very impressive performances from Richard Baylis, nervous, defeated, clinging insecurely to his new life, and Kat Hempstead, cooler at first, but intensely moving later, remembering her shameless, stupid crush and the death of her father.

Their uneasy dialogue, inarticulate, impassioned, is well caught, with telling moments of silence and stillness, though I might have traded some detail for an even more naturalistic overlap. This huge impersonal space has little sense of claustrophobia, but the ending is superbly realised: he must flee to his uncertain future, she has failed, despite feverish promiscuity, to find love with anyone else, and is condemned to stay imprisoned in her past.

But what if they had escaped the slippery slope from barbecue to park to seedy B&B, before the senseless elopement to the ferry port. Say her parents never knew, the police were never involved. Would she now be seeking redress and retribution from "Peter", her historic abuser ? Or would she still try to rekindle the love affair, rewrite the sad story of lives blighted ?

BLACKADDER GOES FORTH

BLACKADDER GOES FORTH

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

15.11.12

A final big push for CTW's Blackadder tribute, with its third season devoted to three of the best episodes from the WWI series.

The stage is dotted with military memorabilia; those Lovely War songs on a loop on the soundtrack.

Dean Hempstead's hand-picked cast is on superb form, led by David Chilvers as Cpn Blackadder, and Mark Preston as his downtrodden Pt Baldrick. They've made these roles very much their own – certainly not clones of the television stars.

Rock solid support from the whole company, notably Steve Parr's Melchett, Harry Sabbarton's Darling, and Ruth Cramphorn's "Bob".

And a hugely impressive comedy performance from Bruce Thomas as George, the incurable optimist who has to defend his superior at his Court Martial as well as act the leading lady in the concert party. In the last episode, he realises, touchingly, that he is the last of the Trinity Tiddlers, and just before the dawn attack, sees the waste and the tragedy of war.

We see them all go over the top to their death – impressively staged – as a field of poppies reminds us that theirs was one sacrifice amongst so many.

The pace, attack and timing are exemplary. They need to be, since one insurmountable challenge in staging these sitcoms is that each cross-fade and jump-cut becomes a hiatus as the stage crew shift stuff and we get a glimpse into the Green Room behind the front lines …

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

23.09.11

How to make Gogol's classic satirical farce work for our times ? Bungs and backhanders are no less prevalent than they were in19^th century Russia, I'd guess, but the characters are very much of their era.

The Young Vic this year chose a traditional take, involving the audience in the cartoon world of small town politics. Danny Segeth, for CTW, took a more radical line. A cast of young comedy actors, a black box, a version [after Alistair Beaton] which moves everything to today's UK, and a generous dollop of physical theatre.

How successful this approach is will depend on how amusing you find the performances, and whether you can accept a world with emails but no phones, where the Mayor actually runs the “nasty little town”, vodka and madeira are the tipples of choice and fresh salmon is delivered to the hotel restaurant.

Gold star for effort to Ian Eagleton, whose Director of Education was a mass of tics and grimaces, speechless with nerves. Joe Kennedy was a greasy, greedy Mayor, and there were two nice double acts, from John Mabey and Anna Rogers as the gossips, and from Fabienne Hanley and Leanna Johnson as the Mayor's grotesque wife and daughter – think Ugly Sisters. As the mystery inspector, James Christie used his comic presence to excellent effect – his drunk scene was masterly – and he was well supported by Gemma Robinson as his valet [in this version a slightly superfluous “friend”].

Especially at the start, a more manic pace would have suited the style, but there were lovely sequences, such as the planning of the inspections, and Khelly trousering “loans” from a queue of frightened officials. The movement work was directed by Catherine Hitchins: I liked the final sequence [“Regret”] which forced us to reflect on the human failings behind the farce.


production photo: James Sabbarton

THE PICTURE OF
DORIAN GRAY

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

24.09.10

John Osborne's version of Wilde's tale was written for television in the 70s. It was praised, and blamed, then for hinting at a homo-erotic attraction between artist and sitter.

But as Lord Henry says, “ … whatever was good enough for our fathers is not good enough for us.” So, like Matthew Bourne's ballet and Oliver Parker's film, Joe Kennedy's staging makes the undercurrent explicit, with full-on snogging with both sexes, an awkward violation before Dorian's cold leave-taking of his actress fiancée, and the Duchess transformed from a dowdy dowager to a thrusting vamp [Ruth Cramphorn, stunning as ever in a scarlet frock].

The women generally did well – a nice cameo from Lynne Foster as the formidable Aunt Agatha, and Leanne Johnson as the actress Sybil Vane. Terry Cole, too, was convincing as Uncle George.

Below stairs, we had two improbably youthful gentleman's gentlemen, perhaps reminding Dorian of the schoolboy he was when he first fell under the spell of Lord Henry, who poisons him with his hedonism and his French literature. And I liked the uniformed skivvies who changed the scene, though I would have liked more than just spill to light their work.

Of the principals, the palm must go to Tony Ellis's Harry, who, despite an idiosyncratic accent, delivered Wilde's glib epigrams and acid wit with real style. He aged well, too. Harry Sabbarton was a Dorian on the brink of corruption, with James Christie a somewhat unartistic Basil. Some dramatic moments from Philip Hart, as the scientist forced to share the awful secret.

Osborne is no Oscar, of course, and there were some awful sore thumbs in the dialogue: “not 100% sure”, “this day and age”, “quite special and unique” …

So despite the undeniable strengths of the production, notably the use of all the characters, the quick and the dead, for the “mysticism” speech and the powerful final scene, I suspect Wilde may be spinning elegantly in his Epstein tomb.

pre-production photograph: Dorian and Sybil


Jim Hutchon reviewed the production for the Chelmsford Weekly News:

John Osborne’s adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s novel plods its weary way across 18 years of the eponymous hero’s decline, and there were moments when I felt I had sat through all of them. It is lengthy and leaden-footed, and loses much of Wilde’s incomparable repartee.

That said, Joe Kennedy’s production has much to commend it, despite Osborne's slabs of dialogue with nothing much happening. There are some highly imaginative touches – the rape scene, and the scene where Gray's society friends desert him one by one, and the final flaming suicide are all beautifully handled.

Harry Sabbarton was Gray, not very convincing as a rich, eligible bachelor, and James Christie was the artist looking more like a bank manager, who painted the fateful picture as an act of love. Gray’s decline starts with the rape of his first love – played with real pathos by Leanne Johnson – who then goes and tops herself.

There is an enormous cast for CTW – 16 people on stage at the same time - and all of them well-drilled in creating the atmosphere of Victorian London society. Key acting plaudits must go to a beautifully modulated performance by Tony Ellis (as Gray’s long time friend) who has an unerring ear for the best of Wilde’s lines and a lesson to all in how to deliver them.

The set is nicely minimal but effective and the costumes are accurate and well fitting. But in the final analysis, the dark, brooding atmosphere of the original never surfaces and what should be mounting tension doesn't.