SISTER ACT

SISTER ACT

CAODS at the Civic Theatre

23.09.15

A spin-off from the movie, this rather shallow show is a real crowd-pleaser. One great anthem, a silly plot, and oodles of Catholic kitsch.

CAODS give it everything they've got, and the packed houses are going home very happy. Sallie Warrington's production has pace, pizazz and some very nifty choreography. And it uses a huge cast to excellent effect, with nuns filling the wide Civic stage, decked out with some splendid scenery – the monumental Queen of Angels, the stained glass, the last supper, not to mention the police station and the night club, trucked and flown by a hard-working crew.

Plenty of scope for broad-brush characterization amongst a talented company. Stephanie Yorke-Edwards is the enthusiastic chorister Sister Mary Patrick, Jessica Broad the perplexed young postulant Sister Mary Robert. John Cox plays the priest who enthusiastically embraces the sinful world of show-biz [“The reviews are in !!”]. Curtis, the gangster boyfriend, is done with heavy menace by Jonathan Davis; on the side of the angels, Sweaty Eddy, childhood sweetheart now neighbourhood cop, is Oli Budino, slickly switching between policeman and fantasy star in his big number. And the three stooges [Ian Gilbert, David Gillett and Ben Wilton] have a ball, especially in their priceless Lady In The Long Black Dress.

Deloris, the wannabe musician around whom the plot revolves, is given a great larger-than-life characterization by Tessa Kennedy, suggesting a singer with more self-belief than talent, but making the most of the show-stoppers she's given, and showing touching loyalty to her new-found sisters.

Not much subtlety in this show, but Helen Hedin manages to make the Mother Superior a wonderfully believable character, long-suffering, with flashes of caustic wit, she represents the forces of tradition who're not convinced that soul and disco – putting the Sis in Genesis – are the way forward for the church.

The 70s musical idiom – lovingly guyed in Alan Menken's score – is excellently re-created by MD Robert Wicks and an outstanding twelve-piece band.

production photograph by Christopher Yorke-Edwards

SISTER ACT

SISTER ACT

SODS

at the Palace Theatre, Westcliff

14.11.14

for Sardines

The stage show was slow to follow the family favourite film, coming at last to Broadway by way of the London Palladium. SODS have secured the regional premiere, and Ian Gilbert's production is a stunning success, bringing the distinctive blend of gospel and gangsters to vibrant life.

The show is spectacularly lit; the frocks are spot on, from the awful 70s threads to the lamé and sequins on those Act Two habits. But the staging is necessarily simple, with a spaghetti curtain on which are projected stained glass and mirror ball, Last Supper and dart board.

Not the greatest show – succeeding on the movie's coat-tails and the Goldberg effect. Only one memorable number, though Alan Menken's score does have some enjoyable pastiches, and wonderful opportunities for the singers. The plot is clunky, the story coarser than on celluloid. But, by heaven, you certainly feel entertained by the end of it, especially when the cast is as talented, the staging as assured as it is at the Palace this week.

Sharon Rose has been singing professionally since childhood, but Deloris van Cartier is her first dramatic role. She takes to the stage like a duck to water – she has a warm, sparky presence, and handles the dialogue as convincingly as the singing and the dancing, of which she has plenty. A stand-out, star performance; let's hope it won't be the last time she's cajoled onto the boards. Ben Huish is a fresh-faced Sweaty Eddy, a match in charm and star quality for his “wayward woman”.

There's lots of fun to be had with the gangland buffoons [Jon Buxton's confident Curtis their boss], with especially compelling comedy from Declan Wright as TJ. Great character work, too, from those game sisters, notably Liz Green as Mary Lazarus and Charlotte Cox as the confused young postulant: her Life I Never Had a thoughtful triumph.

SODS stalwarts – well over a hundred roles between them - take the key characters of the Mother Superior [Ann Barber, in fine voice, making the most of the outrage] and Monsignor O'Hara, an early and shamelessly enthusiastic convert to the new order [Dick Davies, cavorting in his colourful cassock].

The ensemble work is impressive [choreography by Vicky Wyatt] – all those “celibate nuns shaking their buns” - and there are lots of ingenious ideas – the turn-and-change transformation at the end of Act One, the ghostly nuns in their pyjamas, the chase sequences, the camp choirboys [are these the bachelor antique dealers?] who get to ascend to the circle boxes, the kitsch fantasy dancers for Fabulous, Baby!.

Ashton Moore conducts with a keen sense of the seventies style that permeates this show.

SISTER ACT

London Palladium

13.10.10

“Can't keep the Pope waiting – let's get this show on the road.”

We happily guy the faith, mock the Pontiff. I'm not sure if this is a sign of decadence or of maturity. Whichever, Sister Act is a shining example.

Set in the gaudy, tasteless Seventies, it tells the story of a lounge singer who seeks sanctuary in a nunnery, and, in a miraculous make-over, transforms their tired choir into a guaranteed pew-filler.

Alan Menken's music is a clever pastiche of the period, and the staging, from the chiaroscuro church to the technicolor restoration job and the stylish black-and-white geometry of the the chase through the cells, was ingenuous and involving.

Crowd-pleasing performances – nothing too subtle here – from Patina Miller as the chanteuse turned novice. Ian Lavender as Monsignor Howard, and Katie Rowley Jones and Claire Greenway as character Sisters. I liked Ako Mitchell's Sweaty Eddie; shame his transformation number was so ordinary, unlike the gloriously sleazy seduction trio for the henchmen. The Nuns' Chorus brought warmth and vitality to the big breezy production numbers.

Self-regarding macho misogynist Shank was done with relish by Chris Jarman, who had one of the better accents of a mixed bunch.

MD, and fleetingly the Holy Father, was Nicholas Skilbeck.