PAPER PLANES
Queen's
Theatre Hornchurch
30.07.14
On
the night of September 2, 1916, Londoners watched and cheered as a
“baby-killer” - German airship bombing civilian targets – was
shot down in flames by a tiny bi-plane.
That
moment is thrillingly evoked in “Paper Planes”, this year's
Community Musical at the Queen's Hornchurch.
This
is the deal – this renowned producing house devotes its creative
and technical forces to devising and staging a new work, and the
people of East London and Essex – sixty
of them this year, aged between 7
and 80
– bring their enthusiasm and their talent, as well as sell-out
houses for the four-night run.
The
packed world première
was a great occasion – an
aircraft of the period parked in the foyer, Birdman cocktails in the
bar [vodka, schnapps and cranberry juice, since you ask] and a pub
pianist who would have been very much at home in the Ten Bells.
That
East End boozer is where our tale begins – told by the Guv'nor,
keeping the legend alive in the very bar where our hero went in
search of refreshment and female companionship.
He
is William Leefe Robinson – Billy the Birdman – who wins the VC
for his brave deed. In
this romanticised version of his life – by Dave Ross, Gerry
Sweeney, Patrick O'Sullivan and Steven Markwick – he's given love
interest, “champagne
and stout” class
conflict and a
rather good theme song, “Up Here Above The Clouds”. And
a clichéd comic-book sadistic Hun [Chris Taylor].
Aerial
combat is never going to be easy to stage, but the tall tower works
well against the back projection, and Billy's first flight, with
model houses and a lovely toy train, is superbly staged. The young
Leefe Robinson [Harleigh Stenning] runs through the show, toy plane
held aloft, one of several motifs which give the story its strong
structure, along with the paper planes, the seagulls, the
claustrophobia …
Impressive
performances from
the non-professional players. Tomas Martinsen-Hickman outstanding as
“Leefe” - he looks and sounds absolutely right, and has an easy
charisma and a great singing voice too. Rebecca Swan is his rough
diamond Lilly, making the most of the lovely “Cinderella's Shoes”,
Jamie Brown his brother Harold, Jane Harder his snobby mother.
Many
memorable cameos, too: the Recruiting Sergeant [“Who's for
glory?”], the Major, Doll from the pub, the Guv'nor who guides
us through the narrative.
But much of the strength of this piece is the ensemble work: the
bloodied nurses, the
school pals, the
RFC quartet, the
knees-up for Kaiser Bill. Patrick
O'Sullivan's production is full of striking stage pictures and
ingenious devices: the escape door, the letter duet, the German
subtitles, the “hole”, the St Bee's reprise, the zeppelin itself,
a really menacing presence. Even Billy's kitsch apotheosis – paper
planes pointing heavenwards – suits the mood and style of the
times.
The
songs, too, [written by MD Steven Markwick and Dave Ross] suit the
story splendidly, from the gleeful pastiche of Does Your Mother Know
to the haunting title song, with its gentle piano riff. And
in the pit, some of the Queen's finest actor/musicians ...
William
Leefe Robinson – one of the generation who went straight from
school to the Great
War – never lived to find happiness in peacetime. But he had his
moment of glory, and, like the Queen's Theatre, found fame far beyond
the borough. Born in India, educated in Oxford and Cumbria, he's
nevertheless
embraced
as a local lad since he flew his Zeppelin-killer missions from
Sutton's
Farm, not a mile, as the air ace flies, from the stage door.
So
his story, and this amazing show, are just the ticket for this
theatre, and for this time, as we commemorate the outbreak of the war
to end all wars.
production photography: Mark Sepple
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