MACBETH
Shakespeare's Globe
28.04.10


In the early days of the Globe, though production styles varied, the staging was almost always one that Burbage – the first ever Macbeth – would recognize were he to return.
Not any more. And for this Macbeth, the stage is extended out into the yard, and further by a black membrane through which the groundlings can poke their heads. The idea is to emphasise the idea of the underworld. Overhead, two huge concentric rings support black gauzes and chains; crowns, censers and braziers circling above the stage. More hollow crown than wooden O.
This is a dark and bloody production, directed by Lucy Bailey. Soldiers drip with gore, the ghost at the feast appears at the table like a showgirl from some grisly cake. And the porter [Frank Scantori] is the grossest imaginable, relishing every mucky moment.
The witches are powerfully grotesque, with unearthly sounds to underline their influence; they also provide the Apparitions; I liked the music, especially Fleance's gentle song in Act One. The boy has some of the best moments – playfully wearing the crown, escaping up the long ladder to the Heavens above the stage.
In amongst the bleak blackness, the gory pantomime, is a fairly traditional production, with Elliott Cowan a watchable Macbeth, and Laura Rogers slender, sexy but steely as his wife.
But it's the macabre and menace we take away from this infernal world, “smoked with bloody execution”.
Photo by Ellie Kurttz

TELL THE WORLD
The 53rd Chelmsford Gang Show, at the Civic Theatre
27.04.10


It used to be all khaki. But this, the most colourful Gang Show yet, opened in a riot of orange and green, with a lively number ending in a very effective mass handjive.
There was red, white and blue for the Travel Sequence. And not one but two sets of street moves to a booming backing track.
I liked the way the weather improved from Raindrops [an impressively brave solo descending a staircase] to Sun Shine [from the newly revived Hair].
As ever, the Mini Gang showed promise, their moral tale of the Dark Siders [with their talented silver-clad leader] enlivened by some classic standards. I enjoyed the sophistication of Man in the Mirror, and the last production number – Love – was very nicely done. 
Sometimes I was surprised that the large chorus made so little noise – maybe this was a first night balance problem. 
There were some moments that even the enthusiastic uniformed audience found less exciting. The usual rules apply: if everyone stands in line, or takes turns with a verse, or is stuck against a front cloth, or is having to read the words …


Has the Gang Show lost touch with its roots ?  Well, there was little recognizable Ralph Reader this year, and almost no significant cross-dressing, unless you count the monster in a tutu.
And once you've embraced Return to Sender, Robbie Williams and Radio Gaga, there'll be no more In My Dreams I'm Going Back to Gilwell …

GETTING ON
Little Baddow Drama
21 April 2010


Mary Redman was at the Memorial Hall



It was good to have the opportunity to experience Alan Bennett's punningly titled play for the first time in a production which had a lot of good things and some that were a bit off - like the Curate's Egg.
So whether you were getting on in the ageing sense or getting on in the compatibility stakes Bennett's acute eyes and witty ears observing the foibles and intricacies of human behaviour meant there was something for everyone. "Shit has no pedigree!"
The sturdy set built by Brian Greatrex, Graham Keats and Barry Weight was a delight from the point of view of reality in an understatedly effective North London middle class kitchen of the 1970s. Barbara Newton had dressed it impeccably with bric a brac and piles of washing galore. Proof of her dedication to her task.
It was, however a set of two halves. I felt that there was no need for the two distracting door frames as they simply obscured the action but, most of all, was the regret that each of the wings sides of the kitchen was obscured wherever you sat. So one side of the audience missed the wonderfully dressed bookshelf, fireplace etc., while the other missed the equally haphazard kitchen. I realise you had to accommodate a rather large cast for such a small stage but it was a pity to waste such good workmanship (and womanship).
Lighting and Technical by Jonathan Patient and Matt Adams was good although (and this is almost certainly a directorial thingy) I felt that lighting fades at ends of scenes were often too slow and long. I did like the use of very carefully and specifically chosen incidental music by Eric Coates (I am told) with a little modern addition, which set moods and underlined action or emotions.
Stage Management was kept very busy conjuring up food and drinks and much, much more, in the safe hands of Barry Weight.
It was a great delight to see and hear Rita Ronn back on stage as mother-in-law and "Mommy Dearest" to Polly. With her wealth of acting and life experience and that beautiful voice she relished the mixed emotions and poignancy of her role as a shameless older woman. The kind that wears purple with pride and joy.
Equally welcome was Gill Peregrine's immaculate and marvellously observed cameo as the outraged, indignant Mrs Brodribb.
John Peregrine did the world weary MP George in that seen-it-all before, agitated, disillusioned, disaffected manner he does to a T. As his daffy wife Polly, and closely resembling a younger, darker-haired doppelganger  of Felicity Kendal, Vicky Tropman was the perfect foil for George's worries and harassment.
All hail to Trevor Edwards for his performance as MP Brian for resisting the temptation to stereotype his gay character. This was the sort of man who is perfectly secure in his identity. This portrayal also made a good contrast to the occasional camp of Andrew Wallis's bisexual handyman. Andrew created a portrait of this perplexed young man in just a couple of weeks, so all hail to him for this achievement.
Edward Sainsbury gave us a faithful characterisation of disaffected youth, helped no doubt by his own age, but I would have appreciated more vocal projection from him.
Director Michael Gray and his Assistant Director Ken Rolf created a faithful portrait of the 1970s life but I do have to tackle the elephant in the room - prompts. It would be unfair not to mention how often John Richardson was necessary, because insecurity on lines infects the rest of the cast and infests your own characterisation, whilst interrupting the audience's necessary suspension of disbelief.
It is a tribute to the strength of Bennett's play, the director's support and the combined power of the cast that we still enjoyed getting on with the play.

Jim Hutchon saw the play later in its run for the Chelmsford Weekly News:



Director Michael Gray’s epic production of this rambling, shambling play relied largely on the more than ample supply of Alan Bennett’s words to get the story across. It involves a self-opinionated Labour MP who listens to no-one and, like a ‘literary shredder’, reduces everything in his path to a torrent of words to the frustration of his family. In the course of the play, his wife and his best friend both have an affair with an itinerant visitor, his mother-in-law survives a medical crisis, and his son tells him like it is.
John Peregrine was the MP with verbal diarrhoea, though he buckled somewhat under the sheer weight of the words, and struggled to create the subtleties of his character. His wife – played by Vicki Tropman - managed to carve out for herself a genuine 3-dimensional character and her outburst following her affair was a dramatic high spot. The best friend – a homosexual MP – played by Trevor Edwards was very convincing, and created a rounded character comfortable within himself.
Andrew Wallis played the bi-sexual lover. Initially self-effacing, he went on to provide a genuine tear-jerker of an explanation for his plight. Nice to see Rita Ronn back, as the mother-in-law. Her interventions were invariably full of drama, and she never missed a laughter-line. The son was Edward Sainsbury – excellent as a fairly laid-back teenager content to frustrate his father. He too, had an impressive moment of confrontation.
The set was a lovely mix of the bizarre and shabby chic - the results of “the liberal art of collecting others' unwanted scrap.”
This was an absorbing and very long play which needed a great deal of concentration, but was well worth the effort.

UNDER MILK WOOD
reviewed for the Public Reviews
Mercury Theatre Company at the Mercury Theatre Colchester
22.04.10
    
My first Milk Wood was a purely aural experience, as Thomas intended. My most recent before this was a virtuosic one-man-show.
It's no surprise that more conventional stage adaptations, such as this winner from the Colchester Mercury Theatre Company, are so popular. Memorable, almost mythic characters, marvellous mouth-watering poetry, and a satisfying day-long dramatic structure.
Gari Jones's atmospheric production is set in the four-ale bar of the Sailors Arms, with excursions into the auditorium, park-benched and flagstoned for the occasion. Presided over from his eyrie by blind Captain Cat, the action imaginatively uses the pub furniture, the doors and the windows, to suggest the village beyond.
The set and the lighting combined to create real magic: I loved the slide through the bar-side servery, the organ keys in the table, the long-drowned outside the frosted “Wines and Spirits” glass, and Evans the Death rising from the grave. The geisha, out of the same trap, was a literal picture too far for me.
Of course it is hard to know how much of what we hear needs to be shown as well, a problem amusingly illustrated by the Revd Eli Jenkins, prompted on his entrance by a bossy narrator. To help the narrative flow and boost the dramatic energy, some lines had been re-allocated among the nine actors, who between them brought a whole hill-side of characters to vivid life. The inevitable quick changes were also exploited for effect, with Organ Morgan morphing into Lord Cutglass as his trousers are torn off.
The cast was a mix of familiar Mercury character actors – Roger Delves-Broughton, Christine Absalom, Ignatius Anthony, Gina Isaac – and younger blood – Pete Ashmore, Emily Woodward. The ensemble was excellent – schoolgirls, gossips, the village children: the kissing game was a memorable highlight. There was melodramatic ham from the Pughs, tender moments with Rosie Probert, and strikingly unexpected images, like the prancing postman or the old man in the babies' pram.
The music – presumably down to Sound Designer Marcus Christensen – was key to the mood: folk, musique concrete, and so on.
The show began in the stygian gloom of the bar, with recumbent shapes slumbering and dreaming, and ended with isolated figures, alone in pools of light, left for a poignant moment with their Milk Wood memories.


production photo by Robert Day


this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

MONTEVERDI VESPERS
The Stondon Singers at St Thomas's Church Brentwood
17.04.10


After a day of unbroken sunshine and soundless skies, it was a particular joy to hear Monteverdi's great work in the Victorian splendour of the Church of St Thomas of Canterbury.
Christopher Tinker's interpretation was authentic, to the extent that anyone can know the composer's intentions. The spaces of the Nave, the Choir and the Transept were used to dramatic effect, for instance in the Audi Coelum, with its clever echoes. 
The work consists of a string of varied psalms and sacred songs. The Laetatus Sum, with its intricate solo lines, was given lively rhythms, the equally exuberant Lauda Ierusalem, busy but crisply enunciated, ended with a superb Gloria, and the more literal Duo Seraphim, beginning with two voices, incorporated a third in a striking evocation of the Trinity.
The soloists generally, including two choir members, were key to the success of this ambitious venture; the Stondon Singers, as ever, were meticulously prepared and impressively fluent.
The intensity built inexorably towards the end, with the concluding Magnificat leading triumphantly to one last glorious Amen.
The impressive instrumental forces of the period instrument ensemble – scurrying strings and racing brass – created  a bright exciting sound, helping to bring a flavour of Renaissance Venice to this corner of mid Essex.