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.
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