Constellations

The life of bees, and even theoretical physics, are increasingly familiar tropes in fiction and the drama.

Nick Payne’s moving miniature watches these worlds collide, and the boy-meets-girl story [girl-meets-girl in this production] is refracted into infinite fragments, applying arcane elements of relativity, quantum mechanics, string theory … But you don’t even need GCSE science to share the laughter, the tears, the love and the loss of this sometimes rocky relationship.

There are constants for us to cling onto: two chance encounters, the proposal, the diagnosis. But the brilliant writing opens doors onto alternative worlds, “all the decisions you’ve ever/never made”, playing variations on a scene, sometimes subtle, like minimalist music, sometimes radical: the “no balloons, no photos” sequence, for instance, is replayed in fluent BSL. The infidelity recriminations variously involve a third party with a centre parting, dandruff or scarcely any hair at all. Fragments make increasing sense as they are replayed in context, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle slotting into place amongst the vast expanse of sky. Marianne’s aphasia is flagged early - “faith” becomes “face”, “work” becomes “walk”. But the full impact is held back until the devastating later scene.

We don’t see the forks in the road, there are no Sliding Doors, no Ayckbourn tricks or conscious choices. Not even snap lighting changes to signal the shifts – though Phil Wright’s lighting design serves the play with sympathetic sensitivity.

What we do get in Ria Milton’s finely honed production – bringing a rare, almost flawless integrity to the amateur stage - is a physical echo of the emotional changes – distance, height, body language all give depth and texture to the drama. Before the big names hit the West End and Broadway the piece played first in the tiny Jerwood at the Royal Court. There’s a similar intimacy here; Laura Bradley’s Marianne and Jennifer Burchett’s Rona are naturalistic, heartfelt creations, the bee-keeper and the honey philistine. They wear their roles lightly, inhabiting rather than performing their characters.

The striking set – designed by Nick Mayes and realised by Iain Holding-Sutton – is a window into the universe, evoking the constellations of the title, and enabling some eloquent silhouettes between the scenes.

Those moments are also marked by chanteuse Nikita Eve. Like a Greek chorus, she comments with snatches of song, chosen, with the director, to highlight the changing nature of the relationship as it ravels and unravels before us. Ingrid Michaelson’s Everybody [“wants to love, wants to be loved”] bookends the play in a cosy singalong, “Now so long, Marianne/It's time that we began to laugh/And cry and cry and laugh about it all again” encapsulates the piece so beautifully it’s hard to believe Leonard Cohen penned it long before the playwright was born, and “I will follow you into the dark” [Death Cab for Cutie] is a poignant refrain for the tragic twist to this Love Story.

As with the Greek chorus, the question is if, and how, to integrate the commentary into the action. Low-key contributions from stage right is the answer here; they worked best when the guitar was substituted for the slightly intrusive keyboard.

This is by no means a gloomy evening in the theatre The seventy-five minutes include bright joyful moments – Marianne buys Rona’s honey from Budgens in Crouch End – amid the soul-searching and the struggles.

And maybe we’re meant to share their belief that the multiverse can bring solace: somewhere there’s a world where they first met at a wedding, not a barbecue, and where the tumor is Grade One, not Four. Like the elbow-licking from Marianne’s chat-up routine, the secret to immortality. “You’ll still have all our time”, the cosmologist reassures the apiarist. And, as if to prove the point, the poignant coda is a replay of their second encounter, at the ballroom dancing class, planning to lose weight, or dance the Viennese Waltz at someone’s wedding …

Tim Minchin, quoted in Randall Munroe’s What If?, 

read by Marianne in Constellations

Your love is one in a million;

You couldn’t buy it at any price.

But of the 9.999 hundred thousand other loves,

Statistically, some of them would be equally nice.

THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR – THE MUSICAL

THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR – THE MUSICAL

CTW at The Old Court Theatre

08.12.17

Shakespeare’s problem comedy – a star vehicle for the fat rascal - seems to cry out for music; there’s a long roster of adaptations from Salieri to Sullivan, Verdi to Vaughan Williams. And only a few years ago the RSC did a musical version, not too successfully.

Peter Jeary’s take is a very different kettle of pickle herring. A juke box musical, with songs of the sixties to provide interludes and insights into plot and character.

The idea was prompted by the Whitehall farce, a genre both apposite and ripe for parody.

It all works disgracefully well, despite some challenges in the execution. Not hard to imagine this being suggested for a professional company of actor/musicians.

CTW fields a strong cast, who generally cope well with the sometimes conflicting demands of Shakespeare and the Sixties songbook.

Stock characters, many of them, from David Johnson’s Robertson Hare vicar to Bruce Thomson’s hilarious Gallic Caius. Sarah Bell – a char with hoover and drooping ciggie – is a fine Mistress Quickly. A lovely, dense Slender – parka and Brummagem – from Alexander Bloom; the young lovers are Charlotte Norburn and James Fletcher. But it’s old lust rather than young love centre stage here, with Dave Hawkes’ lubricious Falstaff, sporting some outrageous 60s military clobber, clumsily courting the two married ladies of the title. They are excellently done by Nikita Eve and Rachel Curran. Musically secure, with a real chemistry between them, they are particularly successful in letting Shakespeare speak, and making sure the Bard gets the laughs he’s written. Their husbands are Simon Hirst, giving a nice period performance as Page, and Tom Tull as the jealous Ford, making the most of his numbers, including a powerful Delilah.

Some songs work better than others. Ring of Fire fits perfectly for the fancy-dress fairies in the forest finale, with “marvellous night for a moondance” to set the scene. An ironic Look of Love opens the second half, Presley’s Suspicion is ingeniously staged, with three smoking lovers seducing Ford’s wife behind his back. And was that Wimoweh for the wives’ “confession” in dumb-show – brilliant !

The music - all of it live - is done by Nick Mayes – who also plays Slender’s servant Peter Simple. Some issues with balance between backing and vocals, and between dialogue and songs, meant that the unplugged pieces worked rather better in the context of the play.

The costumes and the set both very evocative of the period, though the set – split by a strange black hole in the centre – finds it hard to melt into the background.

Despite some dumbing down and desperate double entendres, this is a very enjoyable take on Shakespeare, all done in two hours. By the sing-along Everlasting Love line-up the audience will include some new converts to CTW and, we hope, to Shakespearean comedy.

CASA VALENTINA

CASA VALENTINA

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop

at the Old Court

25.07.17

Harvey Fierstein. Kinky Boots, Cage aux Folles, and, surely his finest hour, Torch Song Trilogy, memorably done on this stage back in 2001.

Casa Valentina is a newer piece, though it does revisit those favourite Fierstein themes. Based on the legendary Casa Susanna, it takes us back to the days – the early Sixties – when cross-dressing was still a crime in many US states, and a weekend retreat resort in the Catskills was a dream come true for these “self-made women”. The dream turns to nightmare after the interval, when politics takes over from prosthetics, and callow newbie “Miranda” [an excellent Jesse James Lamb] flees back to the closet.

Rebecca Segeth's production has an evocative period set, on two levels, carefully lit [Jack Hathaway]. And a very strong cast, beautifully turned out in their femme frocks.

Colin Smith is “Valentina”, facing the uncertain future of his guest-house, supported by his wife, the only GG [genuine girl] in residence. This play is the story of their marriage, too, and the final moments are almost unbearably poignant: George sheds his masculine skin to the Everlys' Let It Be Me, as Rita [touchingly played by Rachel Curren] stands confused and alone on the stage above him.

There is much fun and silliness too – the Wildean contributions of the outrageous “Bessie” [Dave Hawkes], and the Sugar Time routine, where the faces of the wallflowers tell their own story: there's Terry Cramphorn's veteran Theodore, who once found refuge in gay bars, listening to Ian Willingham's Michael, who invited the new boy, and whose put-down of “Charlotte” is one of several powerful monologues in the piece - “Bessie”'s uncharacteristically melancholy musings on his marriage are another.

The darker ending is down largely to Barry Taylor's “Charlotte”, a determined activist who will stop at nothing to sign Valentina's guests up to her Sorority. The scene between Taylor and Peter Jeary's Judge (Jeary stepping into “Amy”'s size 10s at a week's notice) is a dramatic masterpiece, and sets the tone for the end of the play, where an icy appearance by the Judge's unsympathetic daughter [Catherine Kenton] reminds us of just how different attitudes were half a century ago.

A superb production of a fascinating piece – a fine note on which to end a successful season for CTW.

image: guests at the original Casa Susanna

HARVEY

HARVEY

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

07.04.17

Harvey first “appeared” on Broadway a lifetime ago, but this pooka pal has remained popular ever since, due in part to the Jimmy Stewart movie.

Now he's haunting the Old Court stage, in a gently amusing production by Jade Flack.

Elwood P Dowd, “the biggest screwball in town” and the rabbit's constant companion, is given a warmly absorbing performance by Dave Hawkes, perfectly capturing the sunny innocence of this harmless eccentric. Strong in support are Lynne Foster as his desperate sister, with some great moments of physical comedy, and Alec Clements as Sanderson, the callow, charismatic junior doctor at the sanatorium run by Dr Chumley [Jesse Powis in a memorable bow tie].

Not all the performances are quite as assured as Hawkes', but there are nice cameos from Stephanie Yorke-Edwards as Mrs Chumley, Fabienne Hanley as Aunt Ethel, and Ian Russell as the all-important cab driver.

Not many laughs on a thin Friday night, despite the sterling efforts of some experienced performers, but some excellent work in key scenes; Sanderson getting advice from Dowd, or left alone on stage with Ruth [Jade Flack].

And the scene changes from The Dowd Library to Chumley's Rest are very efficiently managed.

THE UNVARNISHED TRUTH

THE UNVARNISHED TRUTH

CTW at the Old Court Theatre

02.10.16

Improbable even by the standards of farce, Royce Ryton's black comedy, first seen in 1978, provides plenty of laughter as the bodies pile up.

It all starts with the hapless playwright – presumably the role Ryton wrote for himself – killing his wife during a marital tiff worthy of Martha and George.

He's played at the Old Court by Jack Shepherd, excellent in his initial hysterics – the phone call to the deaf old locum – and later in his bemused muddling of evidence and plotlines. Two polished farceurs are embroiled in concealing evidence and fabricating alibis: John Mabey as Bert from the nick, wrestling with bodies and an orange beanbag, timing double takes and laugh lines with comic aplomb. And Bruce Thomson, physically very inventive as the literary agent, veering between panic and hauteur.

They are the monsters of Cosy Nook, joined later by Terry Cramphorn's corruptible Inspector, matching the youngsters for comic flair.

The women are all victims, though each has a little character work before conking out. Naomi Phillips as the wife, Annabel, Caroline 'Blom' Brown as the mother-in-law with the directoire knickers, Bev Benham as the eccentric landlady – a little too laid-back for a fascist, perhaps – and Sally Ransom making the most of her equally eccentric friend.

The set evokes the 70s in their eye-watering excess, the costumes are painfully period too. Director Caroline Froy – aided and abetted by Helen Quigley and Laura Hill – achieves a fast-paced, adroitly acted show, with the set pieces deftly delivered.

The audience were most amused, and so was I, despite the uneven nature of the writing and the occasional holes in the plot. A strange piece, a kind of Orton-lite, but still worth a revival forty years on.

MR KOLPERT

MR KOLPERT

CTW at the Old Court Theatre
02.08.16


Though it premièred at the Royal Court, Herr Kolpert is a German play [by David Gieselmann, uncredited in the programme]. Which poses problems for the translator [David Tushingham, similarly overlooked]. Do we stick with the Germans, or shift the whole thing to England – Lavenham gets a surprising name-check – on the assumption that Germans are the same as the English apart from the language. Yasmin Reza's work suffers from this dilemma – the solution often seems to be more expletives, and Tushingham tends to go the same way.
Richard Dawes' boldly Absurdist production solves it neatly – the characters are so stylised that we don't worry about nationality, or whether this is a convincing German architect or an English chaos researcher. What tends to get lost, though, is the unsettling suspicion that manic homicidal violence lies dormant under the most normal of outward appearances. But it makes for great entertainment, with plenty of what the director calls “impact”.
His five actors step confidently up to the mark. Tony Ellis is the waspish Ralf, Kelly McGibney his voluptuous lady in red – both deliver their monologues with style. The “entertainment” for their evening in is to be her co-worker Edith – a wonderfully nervy, mousy character from Jennifer Burchett – and her angry architect partner Tom Tull, “a little forthright, sometimes”, a study in furious thunder. And let's not forget the Scottish Pizza Girl – a perfect gum-chewing cameo from Ellie Uragallo.
And what of Kolpert himself, the lift-hopping lothario from Accounts ? Well, that would be giving the game away. But things turn darker once the take-away tiramisu hits the fan, with a gob-smacking guignol dénouement.
“Decency? I don't know what that is,” says Edith as this worm begins to turn. Shades of Orton, I thought, one of many dramatic echoes in the piece: Albee, Hitchcock, Tarantino, even Ayckbourn.
Fine performances and imaginative staging make this a dazzling outing for an obscure one-acter, with an eclectic sound-track, a quirky set [brolly and truncheon on the walls] dramatic lighting and a lovely Hawaiian themed curtain call.

production image: Barry Taylor

THINGS TO COME - COMPLEAT FEMALE STAGE BEAUTY

THINGS TO COME - COMPLEAT FEMALE STAGE BEAUTY

Another interesting rarity from CTW – The Compleat Female Stage Beauty [filmed in 2004 as Stage Beauty] – by American dramatist Jeffrey Hatcher. It's a witty, bawdy look at the London of Samuel Pepys and Nell Gwynn, and the radical changes that swept through the acting profession during the Restoration.

The central character, Edward Kynaston, played at the Old Court by Philip John Hart, was one of the last of the Restoration “boy actors” - young men who specialised in playing women on stage. By 1661 actors like Kynaston were playing both male and female roles (sometimes in different productions of the same play) with equal success. Kynaston was, according to Pepys, a beautiful man who made convincing women on the stage and was thus blessed with the opportunity to play many of the plum dramatic female roles of the day. He was, in essence, the compleat actor! Jeffrey Hatcher's play explores both gender and social issues with his customary frankness: not a suitable play for children.
It plays at the Old Court in Springfield Road from 28th June to 2nd July, and you can also catch it in the uniquely atmospheric setting of Ingatestone Hall on the 20th, 21st and 22nd July.
Tickets for both from www.chelmsford.gov.uk/theatres or call the Civic Box Office on 01245 606505.

SARCOPHAGUS

SARCOPHAGUS

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court Theatre

20.04.2016

It's thirty years since the world heard with horror of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor disaster.

The first journalist on the spot was Vladimir Gubaryev, Science Editor of Pravda. Asked to write a literary response for a magazine, he chose drama as his genre.

The resulting piece, delivered months after the event, achieved instant fame both in Russia and abroad. But it now lies largely forgotten: this was a rare opportunity to see it on stage.

Wordy, didactic and strangely lacking in drama, it presents unique challenges to the director bold enough to tackle it. In this case the intrepid Dave Hawkes, with Laura Hill. The writing is relentlessly realistic, but, wisely, the surreal elements have been played up in this production: the frantic, sinister activity under blue light, for example, and especially the outstanding tour-de-force of Andy Poole as Bessmertny [Mr Immortal] the sole patient of the Nuclear Medicine Clinic before the accident “imprisoned here as a guinea pig”.

The large cast of victims and medical staff includes Louise Hart as the Physicist, who courageously completes her research before the radiation sickness kills her, Jesse Powis as the General, blustering as the finger of blame is pointed at him, Rhiannon Thorn as the surgeon who finally cracks under the pressure, and Barry Taylor as the man with [obsolete] geiger counter, racked with guilt at misreading the disaster.

Public service announcements, music and video footage are welcome relief from the eye-witness accounts and the fact-heavy dialogue – the Investigator's interviews seem to go on forever. The set is excellent, a curved wall of curtained cubicles, recalling a health spa or sanatorium, and it is used to good dramatic effect [with a hatch for “Krolik”] not least in the curtain call.

Olivier-nominated back in '87, this is a remarkable document of a momentous event, enterprisingly revived by the CTW company. It's just a shame it's not a better play.

SWEENEY TODD

SWEENEY TODD

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court

16.12.15

Sondheim's Sweeney ? At the Old Court ? Mine certainly not the only eyebrow raised when the listing appeared.

But the production – CTW's first full musical for many a year – has proved a resounding success both financially and artistically.

Catherine Bailey's take on the show is necessarily spare and intimate. Exactly the way Christopher Bond's drama was done when it first caught Sondheim's eye. We enter past the harmonium and the man-size meat grinder waiting in the wings. The set – built in the auditorium to accommodate the notorious salon above the pie shop – is a grim Dickensian façade, with ghostly dustsheets above. The action begins with a sombre procession, before Toby draws us in to the story.

A damaged child, huddled in a strait-jacket. Tobias Ragg is often a young boy in the melodrama, much less often in the musical, since for him, as for all the principals, the writing is a real challenge. Charlie Borg makes an excellent job of it – comedy and tragedy alike: his last appearance, hollow-eyed and grey-haired, sets the tone for the emotional finale.

No surprise to see the excellent David Slater nail the title role, a riveting performance which makes the character human in his deranged passion, and effortlessly navigates Sondheim's melodic lines. But a revelation to hear CTW regulars revealed as fine vocalists: Dave Hawkes as the “abominable judge”, Chris Edwards as the revolting Beadle. And Debbie Miles as a memorable Mrs Lovett, holding her own with Slater in the duets, with excellent comic timing as well as hidden depths in, say, Nothing's Going To Harm You. By The Sea is superb, with a grumpy Todd and a fetching pair of bathing belles.

Tom Tull's fine voice as Antony, blends operatically with Jade Flack's tragic Johanna. No operatic fireworks from Harry Sabbarton's Pirelli, alas, but a sprechgesang approach which works surprisingly well.

The chorus copes superbly with the challenges of the score – good to see figures slumped at the end of the alley, and the constant presence of the heap of rags concealing Marie McNulty's beggarwoman. Though more sensitive, oblique lighting might help her melt into the shadows. The uplighting for the barber shop is very effective, however.

I've seen many Sweeneys but the powerful intimacy of this version is something special. And, at the end, after the bloodbath and the curtain call, the Stage Manager rushes on to wipe the gore from the Fleet Street floor lest the Demon Barber claim another victim ...

NO SEX PLEASE, WE'RE BRITISH

NO SEX PLEASE, WE'RE BRITISH

Chelmsford Theatre Workshop at the Old Court Theatre

20.01.15

“The amateur version is different ...they like to give everyone a chance.”

The difference in this case is the tranny hooker sent as Customer Satisfaction Agent in Act Two – a memorable cameo by Tonio Ellis, in kinky boots and brazen G-cup falsies.

This throwback farce from the 70s is an uneasy encounter between Brian Rix and the Permissive Society. It demands sturdy doors, a breakneck pace and sit-com style performances that transcend the lame script.

John Mabey's production has some lovely details – the musical opening, the Teasmade, the rubber chicken and the pendulous tassel. Not to mention the foyer cards paying homage to the Confessions movies.

Some masterly performances, too. Good to see Jean Speller on this stage as the annoying mother-in-law. Losing their trousers to the manner born are Jesse Powis as the bank official Bromhead, and Terry Cole hilarious as Needham from Hounslow. And holding the show together, inhabiting the manic genre with aplomb, the excellent Simon Burrell as Runnicles the randy little cashier.

Working hard as the innocent newly-weds drowning in unsolicited filth sent “on approval” are Rebecca Segeth and Martin Baker, with Gavin Maclure as a kindly police inspector.

Enjoyable nostalgia for those who remember Dubonnet and decimalisation, though production values are patchy: the newspaper, the serving hatch, the stairs. No doubt the pace and the timing will be honed as the run goes on – no professional company would let this be judged without several audience previews.

More nostalgia next time from CTW, with an Agatha Christie from the wartime West End.

BLACKADDER'S CHRISTMAS CAROL

BLACKADDER'S CHRISTMAS CAROL

CTW at the Old Court Theatre Chelmsford

11.12.2014

Here's the Old Court Blackadder company reunited one last time – packing the theatre every night and raising funds for J's Hospice.

A merry Christmas jape, with the story of Ebenezer's conversion wrapped around the Amy and Amiability episode from series three.

Dean Hempstead directs a cast of curious characters, from the obese orphans to the low-rent sci-fi denizens of Queen Asphyxia's court, introducing several new faces to this stage – notably Georgina Whittaker as Queenie and Natalie Davies as Millicent – and one old face in a new guise: Terry Cramphorn as the Beadle and the effete Duke of Cheapside.

Kevin Stemp relishes the chance to revive his Prince Regent and his [Tudor] Melchett, Christine Davidson plays the grasping Mrs Scratchit, Robin Winder is the wailing Caledonian Ghost [and bluff industrialist Hardwood], and the incomparable duo of David Chilvers and Mark Preston give us various Blackadders [superbly delivered with immaculate timing] and the eternally downtrodden Baldrick, forever at the mercy of “the horridest man in the world”.

Scene changes are always going to present a challenge – Mozart, parlour music and Silent Night are rolled out to cover; especially successful was the virtue-of-necessity carol just before the delayed dénouement.

Flying squirrels, mulled wine by the hearth in the foyer, two convivial intervals and a double helping of classic comedy make this an ideal panto alternative for the run-up to Christmas. Totally sold out; but might be worth turning up early in the hope of the odd return ...