ROCK OF AGES

ROCK OF AGES

Southend Operatic and Dramatic Society at the Palace Theatre Westcliff

18.11.16

for Sardines

An unabashed juke-box musical, showcasing the greatest glam metal merchants of the 80s. Though not, as it turned out, the title number from Def Leppard.

And it brought a diverse crowd to the Palace to have their faces melted at the tea-time matinée: rockers, pensioners, school-kids enthusiastically supporting their mates.

The balance between tribute, parody, humour and love-interest is a delicate one, but SODS serve up their usual very professional production values, and give this slight story a more than decent outing.

The eighties hits are strung out on a thin line of plot. The usual things – dreams of stardom, threat from heartless developers, a naïve girl torn between fame and true love. Taking us back to sexier times ? Well, more sexist, certainly …

The show is driven by the music, excellently done by the on-stage “Arsenal”, with new MD Keeley Wickham on keys. The nature of the unsubtle eighties sound means that dialogue sometimes has to be shouted over the underscore, and the lyrics are occasionally hard to catch. The numbers, or at least the titles, are loosely tied to the narrative, and the colourful chorus sometimes seems to comment on events. There's little conventional choreography [Vicky Wyatt] – the two finales come closest, with ironic jazz hands at the end of Act One – Whitesnake's Here I Go Again. Many of the numbers are given a dramatic twist; all of them are compellingly performed. A trio, later joined by Stacee and the girls, for Styx's Too Much Time On My Hands, a duet for Damn Yankees' High Enough amongst the highlights.

The versatile, talented company take the rock genre in their stride, led by David Watkins and Milli-Mae Cage as the love interest, brought together by a shared taste for slurpees.

Plenty of broad-brush character work from, amongst others, director Ian Gilbert as the villainous Hertz, Ewan Dunlop as his OTT effete offspring, Les Cannon as the club owner, enjoying an Oscar moment – one of the few real speeches in the show – and elevation to the angelic choir at the end. He was also the voice of Ozzy Osbourne before curtain-up.

The preening rock star Jaxx, skin-tight leggings to attract the groupies, is played with evident relish by Nick Bright, and Heather Cooper brings strength of character and a fine voice to city planner turned protest leader Regina. A subtler, but no less effective performance, with no histrionics, from Phie Carlile as Justice Charlier, proprietor of the Venus Club strip joint.

The show is held together by the sound guy/MC/narrator/dramatic conjuror Lonny, brilliantly done by Jonny Buxton in a mullet, guying the genre, working the audience, interfering and generally being annoying, though not as annoying as Russell Brand.

The staging is simple – cut-away wall, the band upstage, the Bourbon Club. An ingenious fold-out platform brings us the men's bathroom, the planner's office …

Not the best of the juke-box musicals, but hard to imagine it better done on the non-professional stage, a good night out for rock aficionados and musical theatre fans alike.

HELLO DOLLY !

HELLO DOLLY !

Southend Operatic and Dramatic Society at the Palace Theatre Westcliff

14.04.16

for Sardines

Always a pleasure to welcome back to the stage Mrs Dolly Levi, née Gallagher, meddler and matchmaker, especially in the lovely old Palace Theatre.

A commanding presence in the title role from Suzanne Walters, in a succession of arresting outfits. She belts out the big numbers, but finds time for a little tenderness, too. In the title song she has a staircase to descend, of course, possibly the steepest, narrowest steps I've seen, but she is equally effective alone against the lovely sepia streetscape in Before the Parade Passes By – the understated procession itself materialising magically in the background.

One of the last of the great old-fashioned musicals, it's given an old-fashioned production by Jonny Buxton, making his début as director with SODS. Sometimes a little slow, sometimes a little static [the waiters' galop more of a canter, though most impressively done], with the occasional hiatus, it is nonetheless crammed with great performances from a talented company. La Walters apart, the most successful at engaging a lethargic matinée audience are Les Cannon as grumpy old Vandergelder and Rachael Farrow as the milliner's assistant Minnie. She's the one who pairs up with young Barnaby Tucker – a bright, breezy performance from Ewan Dunlop, looking as if he's just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell illustration.

Lots of matches made in this feel-good plot: Widow Molloy – an elegant Emma Tout, giving us a beautiful Ribbons Down My Back – with Nick Bright's charming Cornelius, and struggling artist Ambrose [the excellent Declan Wright] with Ermengarde, Horace's lachrymose niece [Sacha Jonas].

Nice comedy turns from Keeley Wickham as the frightful Ernestina Money [“Her mother was a Cash, you know.”] and Ian Scoging as Rudolph, maître d' at the Harmonia Gardens, drilling his waiters with a shrill whistle and ringing up an invisible curtain on the action.

The production has some stylish moments: the parasols against the black cloth, the It Takes A Woman trio from Horace and the boys, the Dancing sequence – choreography by Cassie Estall and Becki Wendes. I liked the way Dolly remains on stage [tucking in to her turkey] as the scene changes around her, and Horace does something similar as he makes the journey back to Yonkers without moving from the spot.

Jerry Herman's famous score – Put on Your Sunday Clothes, It Only Takes a Moment and the rest – is in the capable hands of MD Elizabeth Dunlop; there's a very polished pit band hidden beneath the stage.

A believable turn-of-the-century setting, broad Broadway comedy and a succession of toe-tapping tunes make for a delightful, if undemanding, outing for this classic of the genre.

SWEENEY TODD

SWEENEY TODD

SODS

at the Palace Theatre, Westcliff

11.11.15

for Sardines

“What did they do to you?” asks an appalled Mrs Lovett. Benjamin Barker has returned incognito from Botany Bay, and we share her concern. Les Cannon's Sweeney stares impassively from craggy, emotionless features. “His face was pale and his eye was odd ...”

He's not alone. The chorus stand in weird lighting – belting out the opening number rigidly looking straight ahead. Only their eyes turn to Sweeney.

Moments like these – the Bedlam scene is another – stand out in SODS' ambitious production of the Sondheim classic, directed by Ian Gilbert.

It's a show that asks a lot of everyone – soloists, chorus, orchestra, techies. And audience, still in their seats three hours after that opening chorale.

The score is demandingly operatic – it's often done by proper opera companies, in fact – and SODS' twenty-strong chorus, a few fluffs apart, does a remarkably professional job. Musical Direction by Elizabeth Dunlop.

Partners in crime Todd and Lovett are compellingly played by Les Cannon and Ashley-Marie Stone. His granite determination, her slatternly guile make an effective pair. His powerful Epiphany [chorus boldly placed to face upstage] is followed by the deliciously tasteless A Little Priest, both performed with flair and gruesome gusto.

Joining them in the dangerous streets of Victorian London is a fine company of singing actors: Scott Roche as the Beadle – superb at the harmonium – Declan Wright as the fresh-faced matelot, Maddy Lahna in excellent voice as his Johanna, Paul Alton mortifying the flesh as the evil Judge and Oliver Mills making a most promising SODS début as young Tobias – his Not While I'm Around with Lovett very touchingly put over, and an athletic turn in the Miracle Elixir sequence.

Occasionally we might wish for a better range, more sustained tone, but vocal shortcomings are usually made up for by the dramatic delivery, and the stunning staging.

The lofty set, with its staircases and its upper room, works well. After the interval, Mrs Lovett's new-found commercial success brings her a makeover, the signage is changed, and the new barber's chair is delivered. It looks damned awkward to manipulate, and the stunt razors don't always do as bloody a job as they might. But there are plenty of magnificent moments – Barker's wife in flashback, the Beggar Woman [Laura Mann] recognizing the room and remembering her baby girl, the pile of corpses, the bodies down the pit.

The sound design is bright, meaning that almost every word is audible, though at the expense of some light and shade. The lighting too, though brilliantly effective, could have been more subtle, with more gloomy corners to match the mood of the melodrama.

Despite one or two longueurs, this assured production is a Sweeney Todd to relish, for Sondheim's haunting score, the tale's black humour, and the brooding, burning presence of the Demon Barber.

CAROUSEL

CAROUSEL

SODS at the Palace Westcliff

15.04.15

for Sardines

It's fifty years since I first encountered Carousel. Seen dozens since, good, bad, and indifferent. But I never thought I'd enjoy it so much, and be as moved by the classic combination of story, words and music as I was at the opening of SODS' wonderful production.

A winning blend of staging, casting and tradition makes the production the triumph it is. We are welcomed with a sky cloth, the title sky-written across it. Like all the backdrops, it is a subtly done digital image. As the familiar overture kicks in, fairground signs fold out and the punters flock in to pay their pennies for a turn on Mullin's merry-go-round, CGI again, with one “real” horse for Billy and Julie to ride.

Ian Gilbert brings captivating rough-diamond charm to the troubled barker; terrific stage presence and a confident way with the songs - My Boy Bill superbly handled. A stunning Julie from Maddy Robinson, combining schoolgirl innocence - “little kid face” - with the sort of mature musical theatre voice I thought was a thing of the past. She also skilfully brings out the deeper drama – the death of Billy particularly touching.

Impressively strong casting in the many rewarding roles this show offers: my favourite was Jonny Buxton's Enoch Snow, dreaming of sardines and offspring, loveable despite his boater and his irritating laugh. But best supporting Tonys, surely, to Heather Cooper's bubbly Carrie - a perfect foil to Julie - Les Cannon's evil wharf-rat Jigger, Ann Barber's magnificent Mrs Mullin, Laura Gilbert's strong Heavenly Friend and Annette McGibbon's caring Aunt Nettie.

The younger generation makes an impact, too, with Declan Wright's lithe Carnival Boy and a lovely Louise from Charlotte Cox, very much Billy's girl with her feisty way with Enoch Jnr [Harry Neal].

Suzanne Walters, with the choreographer Vicky Wyatt, makes the show fresh and engaging, whilst respecting the elements that make this a classic Rodgers and Hammerstein – the Clam Bake at the top of Act Two, for instance, is refreshingly gimmick-free. Lots of delightful detail – the Spa girls superbly choreographed, the eavesdropping with the brooms which later form the wedding arch. The chorus boys have their share of fancy dancing, too, notably in the macho matelot sequence.

The music is in the capable hands of Elizabeth Dunlop; the multiplex-strength sound system took some getting used to, though.

This super show kicks off SODS' 125^th anniversary season, which continues in November with another timeless classic, Sondheim's Sweeney Todd.

SISTER ACT

SISTER ACT

SODS

at the Palace Theatre, Westcliff

14.11.14

for Sardines

The stage show was slow to follow the family favourite film, coming at last to Broadway by way of the London Palladium. SODS have secured the regional premiere, and Ian Gilbert's production is a stunning success, bringing the distinctive blend of gospel and gangsters to vibrant life.

The show is spectacularly lit; the frocks are spot on, from the awful 70s threads to the lamé and sequins on those Act Two habits. But the staging is necessarily simple, with a spaghetti curtain on which are projected stained glass and mirror ball, Last Supper and dart board.

Not the greatest show – succeeding on the movie's coat-tails and the Goldberg effect. Only one memorable number, though Alan Menken's score does have some enjoyable pastiches, and wonderful opportunities for the singers. The plot is clunky, the story coarser than on celluloid. But, by heaven, you certainly feel entertained by the end of it, especially when the cast is as talented, the staging as assured as it is at the Palace this week.

Sharon Rose has been singing professionally since childhood, but Deloris van Cartier is her first dramatic role. She takes to the stage like a duck to water – she has a warm, sparky presence, and handles the dialogue as convincingly as the singing and the dancing, of which she has plenty. A stand-out, star performance; let's hope it won't be the last time she's cajoled onto the boards. Ben Huish is a fresh-faced Sweaty Eddy, a match in charm and star quality for his “wayward woman”.

There's lots of fun to be had with the gangland buffoons [Jon Buxton's confident Curtis their boss], with especially compelling comedy from Declan Wright as TJ. Great character work, too, from those game sisters, notably Liz Green as Mary Lazarus and Charlotte Cox as the confused young postulant: her Life I Never Had a thoughtful triumph.

SODS stalwarts – well over a hundred roles between them - take the key characters of the Mother Superior [Ann Barber, in fine voice, making the most of the outrage] and Monsignor O'Hara, an early and shamelessly enthusiastic convert to the new order [Dick Davies, cavorting in his colourful cassock].

The ensemble work is impressive [choreography by Vicky Wyatt] – all those “celibate nuns shaking their buns” - and there are lots of ingenious ideas – the turn-and-change transformation at the end of Act One, the ghostly nuns in their pyjamas, the chase sequences, the camp choirboys [are these the bachelor antique dealers?] who get to ascend to the circle boxes, the kitsch fantasy dancers for Fabulous, Baby!.

Ashton Moore conducts with a keen sense of the seventies style that permeates this show.