BETTY BLUE EYES

BETTY BLUE EYES

LODS at the Palace Theatre, Westcliff

04.05.17

for Sardines

On the day the Palace announce the Duke of Edinburgh's retirement from public life, LODS take us back 70 years to the Royal Wedding that began it all.

Based on the Alan Bennett film A Private Function, it's the tale of meat rationing, dodgy dealing and a clandestine pig, named Betty after the young Princess, which is to be slaughtered for a pork dinner in honour of the happy couple.

It's a charming production, directed with a playful sense of period by Sallie Warrington, who has a fine company at her disposal here.

Led by Michael James as a likeable chiropodist, his gentle personality radiating to all corners of the auditorium – he's an accomplished song and dance man, too. His Lady Macbeth of a wife, all ruthless ambition [the Scottish play is referenced quite frequently] is stunningly done by Joanne Halliday, superbly selling her big numbers: the Primrose Ballroom sequence, for instance, beautifully choreographed, with a lovely vocal trio supporting Halliday's assured voice.

Plenty of memorable character work for the rest of the cast to get their teeth into: Helen Sharpe relishes every batty moment as Mother Dear, Andy Stone is the stammering pig-fancier Allardyce [two more LODS regulars, Simon Sharpe and Peter Brown, are his corrupt fellow councillors] and Andrew Seal, in leather trench-coat and tooth-brush moustache, brings a touch of melodrama to the villain of the piece, Wormold from the Ministry. A special mention for the porcine star of the show, the sow herself. She's an endearing puppet, convincingly manipulated by her land-girl handler, Sara Hickling.

It's a strong ensemble show, with beautifully staged production numbers – the Nobody sequence, with showgirls sporting top hats, tails and canes, Another Little Victory with union flags, the hilarious extended Pig, No Pig scene, or the more thoughtful Magic Fingers, with three housewives suffering the aftermath of war. The dénouement is done with another sustained sequence, the Finale Ultimo where everyone confesses their part in the plot.

The setting [Paul Ward and Kevin Ward] is brilliantly simple: a toy-town cut-out Shepardsford, with the Chilvers' parlour folding out. Smoke from the chimneys, too. The vet's motor-car, ingeniously suggested in the tableau that ends Act One, becomes a lovely little model for the pig-napping that starts the second half.

The music – by George Stiles, to lyrics by Anthony Drewe – is catchy without being memorable [Stiles is no Sondheim]; but it's well served here by a first-rate pit band, conducted by Stuart Woolner. The Musical Director is Rachael Plunkett.

NO SEX PLEASE, WE'RE BRITISH

NO SEX PLEASE, WE'RE BRITISH

Blackmore Players at the Village Hall

23.09.16

for Sardines

The intrepid Blackmore Players – one of the best village companies in the area – breathe new life into this old farce, penned back in '71 by Foot and Marriott, not alas credited in the programme.

The critics panned it then, but it did excellent business in the West End, and has been popular with am-drammers ever since.

It's a huge challenge, though, not least because an amateur group will lack the rehearsal time – and the audience previews – when slapstick and repartee can be honed.

And there were some slow moments at Blackmore, with the all-important doors poorly co-ordinated and actors waiting for an interruption.

But Andrew Raymond's production was great fun, boasting some excellent performances and a splendid set, with orange doors, lovely works of art, and an efficient, if bizarrely placed, serving hatch. An excellent period radio for Jupiter, but some other props failed to convince: the super-8, the “1001 Perversions” and the camp snaps, possibly due to a commendable ignorance of the ins and outs of erotica.

Matthew Pearson and Rebecca Smith were the hapless newly-weds who unwittingly get mucky books and blue films sent through the post [very retro], dressed respectively in a staid suit and a shorty negligée.

Visitors to their love-nest over the bank include his snobbish mother [a lovely character performance from Linda Raymond, even if several boroughs removed from Chelsea], his pompous boss [Keith Goody], Superintendent Paul [Ryan Stevens – is it me, or are policemen getting younger all the time ?] and two oddly assorted good-time girls [Lisa Matthews brandishing a rubber cudgel, and Ela Raymond, wielding a feather duster].

But the comedy gongs must go to Old Mr Haskell as the bank inspector with the Union Flag flying beneath his jim-jams, and Young Mr Haskell as the chief cashier – aka the Phantom Pornographer - who struggles to limit the damage the tide of Scandinavian filth might cause to the National Union Bank in this unnamed respectable Thames Valley town. Simon and Sam caught the style, both physical and vocal, to perfection, sliding sleepily down the wall, or losing the use of both feet. Sam, whose truly hilarious performance included not one but two suicidal leaps through the hatch, could happily have understudied Crawford at the Strand.

The cast thoroughly deserved the gales of laughter that greeted the better jokes, and the whoops and cheers on their tardy curtain-call.

MADE IN DAGENHAM

MADE IN DAGENHAM

Leigh Operatic and Dramatic Society at the Palace Theatre Westcliff

04.05.16

for Sardines

The Essex première for Made in Dagenham, the Musical. And haven't LODS done the county proud! High production values, from the design to the orchestra to the professional-looking programme.

It's the uplifting tale of the archetypal Essex girls who take on the might of Ford America and the MCPs of the TUC to win their battle for equal pay. Following in the footsteps of Billy Elliot and The Full Monty, it's an unsubtle, manipulative show, redeemed by Richard Bean's engaging book and Richard Thomas's witty lyrics. And here, by an energetic, polished production on the Palace stage.

Helen Sharpe gets some wonderful performances from a strong cast, especially of course the women of the sewing machine room at Ford's.

Laura Hurrell is a wonderful Rita O'Grady, the strong, if initially reluctant, spokeswoman for the group. We see her domestic life almost wrecked by the strike; Hurrell manages to convince both as an ordinary working-class woman and a heroine of the industrial relations struggle for equality. Not to mention selling some of the best numbers in David Arnold's patchy score. Amongst the other broad-brush characters are Kathy Ward's inarticulate Clare [her “Wossname” number is a delight] and Emma Elliot's dolly bird Sandra. Sarah Gallucci brings pathos as well as personality to union convenor Connie, and Jo Whitnell is excellent value as big Beryl, potty-mouthed and incorrigibly outspoken.

Anthony Bristoe is a sympathetically conflicted husband, a New Man in the making, perhaps.

The men have to do a good deal of doubling in this show, so Monty, the Union Man, is convincingly done by Simon Sharpe, who's also the gross club comic Chubby Chuff. Barry Jones has three roles, including a slightly camp Harold Wilson, superb in his number with the trio of Civil Servants. Hard-hearted, hard-nosed US boss Tooley is powerfully played by Lewis Sheldrake, who's also the boy Barry, target of some fruity banter from the women. And Peter Brown works hard in multiple roles, including Latin teacher Mr Buckton, part of a plot device which brings together Rita and Zoe Berry's Lisa, middle-class feminist wife of Ford UK boss Hopkins [Neil Lands]. It involves a protest against corporal punishment in school. Unthinkable now, of course. If only equality had been so thoroughly won.

1968, year of revolution, is compellingly recalled. In the musical idiom of some of the better numbers - “This Is What We Want” for example - and in the settings – the Social Club and the Berni Inn.

Paul Ward's set is minimal – impressive sewing machines, less impressive Cortina – I liked the way the O'Grady's home was set before the overture: kitchen sink, ironing board, lunchbox, Weetabix. Outstanding digital graphics by Andrew Seal – the orange domestic décor, the Dagenham plant – make the many changes of scene simple and dynamic.

Stunning staging of some of the big numbers - choreography by Michelle Taylor – the title song, and the rousing anthems that end each act: Everybody Out and Stand Up.

Rachael Plunkett is the Musical Director, and she's part of the great pit band under the baton of Stuart Woolner.

SHADOWLANDS

SHADOWLANDS

Sudbury Dramatic Society at the Quay Theatre

03.03.16

for Sardines

Shadowlands tells the true, often tragic, story of the relationship between C S Lewis, the Oxbridge academic now best remembered for Narnia, and Joy Gresham, an American admirer. William Nicholson's literate script evokes wonderfully well the pleasure and the pain of this remarkable late-flowering love. The theology and the soul-searching form a rich back-drop to the unique romance of a buttoned-up, reticent Englishman in late middle age and the younger fan from New York City who sends him long letters and reads him her poetry.

Peter Drew's production moves smoothly from The Kilns, near Oxford, to a hospital ward, to Greece. The cosy “midden” of the room Jack shares with his brother Warnie is convincingly recreated stage left, with the rest of the action against black walls and drapes.

Some fine performances make for an emotional, thought-provoking evening of drama.

Lewis himself – tweeds, tie-clip and a warm, comfortable voice – is played by Neil Arbon. I'm not sure he'd cut it in the “intellectual elite” of the 50s, but he captures well the heart-searching and the anguish of the “foolish, frightened old man” as he seeks to reconcile this vale of suffering with his belief in a loving God. His key scene with the boy Douglas [an impressively confident Alex Ray – neat parting, suede shoes, comfy cardigan] is especially moving. Denis Brogan is absolutely right as the toper Warnie – double-breasted old buffer. And Heidi Bernhard-Bubb makes a poised, feisty, straight-talking poet. The awful, misogynist denizens of High Table are well suggested, particularly by Christopher Suckling as the atheist Professor Riley and Ian Pritchard-Witts as the pin-striped cleric Harrington.

Though Douglas is deprived of his Wardrobe moment, there are some telling scenes: the rain on the roof of the Register Office [and Warnie's expression as he signs his name], the grouping round the bedside for the wedding, the standard lamp, the tea-tray. The static semi-circle of academics lacks energy, perhaps, and it is a relief when Joy takes off the [superbly period] little hat that keeps her eyes in shadow.

Music is sparingly but effectively used – an eclectic playlist including Arvo Part and the sadly neglected County Durham composer John Garth.

A polished production of a compellingly moving, well-made play.

THE SEARCH FOR THE HOODEN WILL

THE SEARCH FOR THE HOODEN WILL

Blackmore Players at the Village Hall

21.01.16

for Sardines

A pantomime whodunnit ? One step up from the comedy thriller, and a refreshing change for Blackmore Players' traditional Christmas show.

And home-made through and through. Doubtless countless sparks and sound operators have been convinced they could do a better job than the playwright and the director. But at Blackmore they've gone one further and actually seen it through from page to stage.

Producer Andy Appleton – sound effects – and director Tony Pavitt and Dave Smith – lighting – are the creative team behind The Search for the Hooden Will, a gleeful blend of Dame Agatha and Dame Trott, with sly references to the classics of the murder mystery – not to mention Cluedo – as well as all the panto tropes we rightly expect.

The script has some very clever touches – the supermarket sequence, the ingenious dénouement – as well as a geeky Star Wars moment and a House Song nicked from The Kinks.

Like all the best pantos, it's a gender fluid affair. Patrick Magee is the lady of the manor, and Linda Raymond makes an excellent job of the Chief Inspector, supported by “the cream of the force”: a promising double act from the two coppers Rebecca Smith and Jenny Pavitt, and two cute police dogs, Jean Appleton's endearing Nickel and Christian Vince's puppyish, extrovert Carbon.

Keith Goody has fun switching between the Hood brothers, while Simon Haskell plays “every Tom, Dick and Harry” in support. Barbara Harrold and Martin Herford both bring impressive panto experience to smaller roles. Juliet Ware, Rhys Burrell and Emma Thwaite are the Hood children, with Charley Magee very watchable as the barrow-boy Freddy.

There's a train sequence, of course, a lovely street-scene backcloth, and, best of all, a duet with a phantom projected onto a bed-sheet.

The musical numbers range from the Music Hall – Underneath The Arches works very well – to Suzi Quatro, Born To Be Wild to Ilkley Moor. Where Did You Get That Hat is beautifully choreographed, with a Charleston big finish.

The pace could be slicker, cues picked up quicker. And the stage left exit proves annoyingly awkward [for the cast, too, probably]. But the show is often witty, wacky and clearly delighted the vocally enthusiastic first night crowd: “It's the theatre that people want!”

I don't think I'm giving anything away by revealing that the wedding walk-down is replaced by a jail sentence, and the last line is “Everybody duck!”. But if you want to know whose finger is on the trigger, or what's in the will, or what the Inspector's name might be, you'd need to get one of the few tickets left for this “universal première” or wait for the inevitable movie ...