THE OVERCOAT

Gecko at the New Wolsey Theatre Ipswich

30.10.10

for The Public Reviews

The world of dreams conjured by Gecko's Overcoat kept most of us enthralled for over an hour. And not a moment of naturalism.

Director Amit Lahav, who plays the humble clerk Akakki, was inspired by reading Gogol's short story to re-create the protagonist's inner world for the theatre.

The “manteau” itself, suspended stage right, is key to Akakki's happiness: as the tag-line has it, Get the coat, get the girl, change the world. “Cambia la vita”, is how he puts it. His “cappotto” appears as a vision, and, at one of the piece's several climaxes, he dances with delight before both coat and the unattainable Natalia [Natalie Ayton, in a magical performance] materialize from nowhere. In a stunning piece of stagecraft, our hero literally climbs into the coat, and joins his girl under a friendly street-lamp.

Music, movement, light and shade are the language here. Such words as we hear are stylised, rapped out and repeated. In a cosmopolitan babel, reminiscent of the circus, or of the early days of moving pictures, everyone speaks a language of his own; context provides clues, and occasional bafflement deepens the confusion of the dream.

The Overcoat has been filmed many times, there's a Russian ballet, and Marcel Marceau did a successful mime version. Very hard to convey the style that Ipswich-based Gecko bring to the tale. Kafka as re-imagined by Fellini, perhaps, but this is a unique, inventive dramatic voice, a seamless blend of skills.

Lighting [James Farncombe], music [Dave Price] sound [Dan Steele] and design [Ti Green] are all vital, and our seven performers are versatile and physically eloquent. A glockenspiel leads us into a frenzied wedding feast, all in the fevered imagination of Akkaki, thrashing in his little bed.

Esta solo ? Are you alone ? asks the voice from behind the tiny door, our hero's solitary pleasure rudely interrupted. But even in his lonely garret, he's surrounded by others, embodying the radio, the two-bar electric fire, the portrait of his parents. There were many spectacular moments and memorable images. The swarms of newspapers, the mist swirling and billowing across the stage, Rags to Riches sung in the glare of a single spotlight. But best of all was the office, strips of light on the floor, bulbs flashing, papers shuffled, stamped and filed, and Natalia the distant beloved at her pedestal desk.

And after an apotheosis of sorts, rejection and fall from grace, the clerk is led off into the light, and the glockenspiel is left to add a tinkling coda to this atmospheric piece of physical theatre.

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

THICK AS THIEVES

Reform Theatre Company at the Cramphorn Theatre

29.10.10

Two inept petty criminals in a deserted house – a lived-in look, comfy, cream crackers behind the settee, junk mail avalanched against the front door. All it needed was the Dumb Waiter.

Mark Whiteley's clever comedy is based on a simple idea, but the crisp writing, and especially the pace and attack of these intimate exchanges, made it constantly watchable. These two likely lads are nicely contrasted – Barry Ireland, the baby-faced ex-con drinks his tea from a cup and saucer, Steph “The Earl” Ashton, his friend and mentor, from a mug. He plays with language, asking questions for “dramatic edge”, and delivering angry tirades when things, inevitably, go belly-up, and the cash in the attic turns out to be a load of old Ratners. His movie charades and his “Let Him Know” monologue were tremendous theatre.

It would be a shame to give away too much of the plot – but the hibernating, hypothermic budgie turns out to be the least of their worries, and they never get to use the QVC card or eat the Asda fare.

The play had an interesting genesis, playing in real front rooms, shops, and on the Edinburgh fringe. It started life as a 35 minute short: longer is not necessarily better, and even this excellent set was no substitute for the thrill of the site-specific.

For this tour, directed by Keith Hukin, Barry was Matthew Booth, and Steph Kivan Dene.

BRITTEN SINFONIA

M&G Concert at the Civic Theatre

24.10.10

A wonderful, high-profile start to the new M&G Civic Concert series. James McMillan's Oboe Concerto, premièred on this Britten Sinfonia tour, and co-commissioned by them, is dedicated to the soloist, Nicholas Daniel.

It certainly gave him a challenge, both technical and artistic. The jaunty opening, with the oboe dancing wildly, was followed by a sombre Largo, the superb string section sighing under the oboe's musings, and an intense, often ecstatic Allegro finale. Both the soloist and the orchestra played brilliantly, under McMillan's own direction, expressive but never ostentatious.

The shock of the new was followed after an interval by Mozart's familiar 40^th, in a muscular but meaningful performance. An extrovert Minuet and Trio followed by a nimble closing movement, with something of the same magic between woodwind and strings we'd heard in the McMillan.

The concert opened with the Barshai reworking of Shostakovich's Eighth String Quartet; full of incident and self-reference, and featuring a ghostly waltz and an eloquent duet between Caroline Dearnley's cello and the violin of leader Thomas Gould.

FOLLIES

All Star Productions at Ye Olde Rose and Crown Theatre, Walthamstow

22.10.10

for The Public Reviews

'Follies' unplugged upstairs at the Olde Rose and Crown, Walthamstow, from the enterprising All Star Productions, who have made a speciality of Sondheim shows.

Up the narrow, winding staircase, into a space smaller than the average foyer. A piano trio is playing, and the lovely young Weissman girls are dancing decorously in their scanties.

Through the window, the twinkling lights of distant Tottenham stand in for the New York skyline.

There are huge benefits in the chamber approach to this bitter-sweet musical. I loved the reduction for piano, cello, violin and, later, flute. And not a microphone in sight. It was incredible to see the characters disintegrate at close quarters, in the raw pain of “Too Many Mornings”; the ironic saccharine optimism of “Tomorrow” gained an extra impetus in this intimate setting.

Sometimes it was hard to see the whole picture; occasionally the vocal dynamic, even unamplified, was overpowering. But I'd much sooner see this show in a space with character than, say, the soul-less revival at the Royal Festival Hall.

For me, Julie Ross's Phyllis was near definitive: resigned, but resenting her 'bargain with life', her every expression, every inflection spoke volumes. And her “Could I Leave You” was impeccably crafted. April Nicholson's flirty Carlotta gave a superb “I'm Still Here”, the wind stirring the restless trees behind her, and a not inappropriate memory loss halfway through.

As Ben, the high-flier, German-born Frank Loman was charming, witty and urbane, and handled his numbers skilfully; Mark Hutchinson, a believable oil salesman but suggesting the rage within, did a brilliant “Buddie's Blues”, with the assistance of mistress Margie, and Mrs Sally Durant Plummer, whose descent into madness was depicted with real pathos by Maggie Robson, going to pieces behind her brittle, bright mask.

The specialities were enjoyable, especially perhaps Teresa Jennings' Solange and of course Ellen Vereniks' Broadway Baby.

No room for much scenery – just a couple of treads for the grand staircase – but Tim McArthur's ingenious staging did manage some impressive production numbers, including LoveLand and the mirror routine, with a great tap line [how did that sound in the Saloon Bar downstairs, I wonder ?]. The careful hair and make-up reminded us that the Follies disbanded in 1941. Shame we couldn't have managed a follow spot, but there were countless eloquent stage pictures - “Girls Upstairs”, with the older quartet watching their younger selves tripping gaily off to Tony's, and Heidi's song an ironic commentary on love. It was shared by Rachel Dobell and, as her younger shadow in a Waltz Dream of her own, Jenny-Marie Cooper.

MD Aaron Clingham led his Palm Court players effortlessly through the Sondheim numbers, pastiche, patter and power ballad.

Two dozen or so in the cast, twice that number in the house. A real shared experience – the final walk-down came all too soon.

this piece first appeared on The Public Reviews

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST

Lindisfarne at the Dixon Studio, 

the Palace Theatre Westcliff

for Remote Goat

23.10.10

Period furniture, several aspidistras, Lane [an unbending Simon Dunn] listening to Algernon's pianoforte practice.

An auspicious start to Lindisfarne's “Importance” in the Dixon Studio. “Style, not sincerity, is the vital thing”, as Oscar says.

The two bachelors, neither named Ernest, coped manfully with Wilde's precious language, and at least were the right age. The “ostentatiously eligible” Algernon was Nathan Spence; his friend Jack was Rory Joscelyne. They interacted well, though a crisper delivery, and better posture, might have improved their characterization.

I was impressed by Lizzie Smith's Cecily – a touch of the jolly hockey sticks and a hint of wickedness made for a memorable performance. She could also manage the accent - “little” the shibboleth here – and got most of what few laughs were going from a staid matinée audience. Her duel with Gwendoline [Kim Tobin] was very amusing; the weapons sugar tongs, cake slice and engagement rings. The overbearing Lady Bracknell, heralded by a very Wagnerian ring at the door, was Elaine Roberts. She looked and sounded like one raised in “the purple of commerce” - in Act Two she was done up like a Lemon Fancy – but she bristled effectively; I liked the way her hat's feathers trembled with indignation, her pince-nez and her use of the sal volatile before “the line is immaterial”.

Carol Hayes was a pert, almost pretty, Prism, but she was a convincing academic, thrilled by German grammar, and had some nice moments with Ian Morton's eager Chasuble.

The Gilbertian dénouement was briskly handled, and the couples joined in a decorous dance to round off the piece.

production promo video from the Lindisfarne Players