Category Archives: Comedy

I Am Shakespeare – September 2007

7/10

By: Mark Rylance (with adjustments by the rest of the cast)

Directed by: Mark Rylance and Matthew Warchus

Venue: Minerva Theatre

Date: Tuesday 4th September 2007

I found myself getting a bit negative in the early stages of this play. Mark Rylance has been working on Shakespeare’s plays for many years now, and became interested in the authorship question over those years. A professed agnostic himself, he believes it’s important for this question to be aired, and for the various pieces of evidence to be acknowledged and discussed, instead of covered up. Never having come across a serious argument against Will himself, I wasn’t perhaps as open-minded as I like to think at the start of this, but I grew into it. I’m still fine with Will being the man (I voted for him at the end), but I agree that studying a wider range of contemporaneous ideas can be useful in understanding the plays. However I still didn’t hear anything remotely convincing in any of the arguments put forward, so I can’t blame anyone who regards authorship questioners as Looney Tunes.

The Minerva theatre, lovely space that it is, had been taken over by Frank Charlton’s garage, a leaky den filled with Shakespearean authorship reference works. Frank hosts an internet chat show discussing the authorship question, with the only drawback being that nobody actually calls in to join the discussion. Apparently they did want the audience to ring in, but as no one told us not to switch off our mobiles, given how often we’ve been reminded to do that very thing, very few people actually realised we could phone in if we wanted, so no calls tonight. Other than the planned ones, that is.

Barry is Frank’s mate and musical director for the show, and to help his friend he pretends to be Derek Jacobi phoning in, but got the accent wrong by a few hundred miles. Everything’s going as badly as usual, until the bad weather and the internet combine to bring Shakespeare’s ghost into the garage. Dressed as a large tomato (I’m kidding – his red outfit was just a bit big, that’s all), he reads minds, writes a sonnet on the fly-leaf of Frank’s Complete Works, and heads off to the kitchen for some beer. To help us hear the arguments for a number of possible contenders we also get to meet Francis Bacon, the Earl of Oxford, and Mary Sidney, so the garage became quite crowded. Eventually, after Barry and Will came back from the pub, they open up the garage door, and the audience becomes the neighbours who’ve also come back from the pub. The various characters came out and chatted with us, trying to muster support – Will was totally sozzled, and sitting on the stairs to our left, only popping up occasionally to make some witty comment. After that, we voted, and the alternatives got short shrift, with Will being the resounding victor – hooray!

There’s an argument between Barry and Frank, and as a result, the internet connection is shut off temporarily, and all the ghosts disappear off into the night. Frank thinks he’s got it all on tape, but he finds it didn’t record, and now he’s in despair. He wanted so badly to know who wrote Shakespeare’s works, and now he’s lost the people who could tell him ( they all refused to give him a direct answer earlier, always making suggestions, but never coming clean), and he has to face the possibility that Will did do it himself, after all. He’s in a bad way, and Barry’s left him (as did his wife some months earlier), but then he finds renewed hope in the concept of Shakespeare as being part of each one of us. The tape he was searching has the famous scene from Spartacus on it, and the play ends with Frank and Barry, and some brave folk in the audience, jumping up and saying “I am Shakespeare” in response to a question from a policeman (who’d been involved earlier when the Earl of Oxford got out of hand and who was persuaded by Mary Sidney that they were just rehearsing a play) about who was this Shakespeare fella? It was an uplifting ending, and a good way to unite everyone after the disagreements expressed earlier.

I did enjoy this play. There was plenty of humour – Will saying “God, I wish I’d kept better records” was a highlight – and the different characters came across very well, though I’m no expert. I did get the sense of how this question could take over people’s lives, and I’m determined not to get that deeply involved, as I don’t want to lose sight of the real objective – enjoying the plays themselves, regardless of who wrote them. But I still think that only an ordinary person from a relatively lowly background could have brought to life the ordinary folk in the plays, and given them such good parts.

It wasn’t the end of things, though, as we had a post-show to attend. I think this was about the most lively post-show discussion we’ve been to. There were plenty of comments and questions, and although we nearly got bogged down with one man’s opinions, on the whole it was a very interesting and wide-ranging chat. The cast had ended up doing a fair bit of research themselves, but without losing their sense of humour, so it was informative without being dogmatic. Some potential alternatives had been left out. Kit Marlowe, for example, had originally been envisaged as a dead body lying outside the garage, but eventually disappeared, as there was too much material to include everything. This was just a taster. The costumes were amazing (I managed to insult the Earl of Oxford by asking him why he was dressed like a bumble bee!) and had apparently cost thousands of pounds to make in splendid period detail. Barry’s costume cost £48.50. Money well spent, Barry.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Pygmalion – September 2007

8/10

By: George Bernard Shaw

Directed by: Peter Hall

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 3rd September 2007

This was a superb production. All the performances were excellent, the set and costumes were good, and the audience was appreciative. A very good night out.

Favourite bits include Barbara Jefford as Mrs Higgins desperately trying to think of something to say when Eliza calls on her “at home”. She struggled for a long time, before falling back on the old standby, the weather. Her performance was a good foil to Tim Pigott-Smith as Henry Higgins; she was sensible, concerned for Eliza’s future, and capable of handling difficult social situations with courtesy and aplomb, so unlike her son, who was a truculent, bad-mannered bully, and whose only saving graces were his intelligence and a sort of kindness. It was interesting to see how the humour most often came from the outrageous comments he, and occasionally Colonel Pickering, made. Only their complete innocence of any wrongdoing made them funny instead of repulsive.

Tony Haygarth as Alfred Doolittle was another little gem. He rattled the lines off so quickly that at first I couldn’t make him out too well, but I soon picked it up. He gave us all we could want from this character, and I quite understand why Higgins and the Colonel were willing to give him ten pounds instead of five. Actually, Higgins was willing to give away ten pounds of the Colonel’s money, but let’s not split hairs.

I also enjoyed Una Stubbs as the housekeeper, Mrs Pearce, and the two leads were just excellent, both in terms of their own performances, and in the balance between the two. Michelle Dockery played Eliza as more independent in the beginning, less prone to crying than I’ve seen before, but that’s just a matter of interpretation – the character was still clear, and the accents seemed fine to me. I loved her poise when she came to visit Mrs Higgins for the first time, and finished her speech about the weather – she clearly let out a sigh of relief that she’d got through it OK. The contrast between her appearance and what she was saying was just superb, and the reactions of the others added to the fun. With My Fair Lady being so well known, it’s easy to forget just how well the original is written, with lots of social commentary along the way, such as the new style of speaking that the youngsters have taken to.

Tim Pigott-Smith was just about perfect as Henry Higgins. He was completely taken up with his own concerns, and just did not understand how he was affecting others, especially Eliza. Time and again he came out with the most inconsiderate statements, often digging a deeper hole for himself as he went along, but he always got away with it. His dedication to his work and his openness to new ideas made him more attractive than he had any right to expect. He was also suitably petulant at his mother’s house – a spoilt little mummy’s boy who never grew up.

I felt the ending was rather ambiguous this time. Although it appears Eliza has left for good, I’m not entirely convinced she won’t change her mind. Either way, seeing the proper story again (Peter Hall had dropped a scene written for the 1938 film) was great fun, and reminded me that Shaw could write about real people when he wanted to.

The opening scene was set in the portico of St Paul’s Church, Covent Garden, and was a bit too darkly lit for my taste. I had difficulty making out all that was going on, although on the whole it worked well. The changes of set took a while, but were worth it – the laboratory and drawing-room were very well designed, and gave me a strong sense of place and time.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Our Man In Havana – August 2007

8/10

Adapted by Clive Francis from the novel by Graham Greene

Directed by: Richard Baron

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Friday 24th August 2007

This version of Our Man In Havana was great fun. I was vaguely aware of the story, though I haven’t seen the film nor read the book, so I was very open to see what they would do. This wasn’t the first performance but it was the second, so I wanted to give as much response as I could to help them get the feel of it. Also, one of the cast had had to be changed at short notice – Clive Francis came on at the start to make an announcement about it – so the replacement actor had only had a few days to learn lots of parts. Poor chap.

The set was really amazing. There were slatted screens across the back, which could be turned into doors, the side walls of a toilet cubicle, etc. Various desks and tables slid on and off and the cast were very good at bringing on the extras – chairs, drinks, etc. For one scene they even made the changes while dancing! Another panel to our right could be a shrine or Wormold’s desk, and there were so many variations that within a few seconds we could be anywhere we liked. There was even a map of that part of the Caribbean which came down every so often and a model plane on a stick which flew across from one side of the stage to the other – the sort of thing I really enjoy. I did find the lighting a little awkward at times – it left the actors’ faces in shadow a bit too often during the early stages – but hopefully they’ll sort that one out as they go.

It took about twenty minutes for the play to really get going – the first part obviously introduced all the characters and set the scene. It wasn’t a bad start, but there was so much to take in and my headset wasn’t working, so I had to concentrate to keep up. Also I found the amount of scene changing a bit distracting at first but that soon settled down. Once we got to the start of the fake agents, though, the whole performance took off. I loved the way the other actors came on and played out Wormold’s fantasies as he developed his list of agents.

From here, it’s a wonderful ride through the intricacies of Wormold’s web of deceit. The idea of senior Whitehall officials being fooled by large scale pictures of a vacuum cleaner was hugely entertaining, and I felt genuinely moved when Dr Hasselbacher died. Oh, and the dog that got poisoned was another great moment, as were Hawthorne’s (Clive Francis) reactions as he realised what Wormold had been up to, but felt he couldn’t expose him as he was receiving congratulations all round for finding him. Clive also had a great deal of fun with his portrayal of Teresa the stripper, as did we.

There’s too much to write it all down, so I do hope they produce a text for this. Other than Simon Shepherd, who was only Wormold and helped with the narration, each actor played a massive number of parts, and they got across the changes very well. Their adrenalin levels must be through the roof during each performance, as they have a lot to do and they all did the various roles extremely well. I certainly didn’t notice that one of the company was any less well rehearsed than the others. I hope we get a chance to see this again.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Hobson’s Choice – August 2007

8/10

By: Harold Brighouse

Directed by: Jonathan Church

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre

Date: Wednesday 22nd August 2007

I love this play, and tonight we saw a very good production of it. The set was the shop floor which covered about two-thirds of the stage, with the outer third showing us the street outside. Before the start, someone was working with some boots or some such in the gloom, and a big grid with boots hanging off it was all around him. I guess this was suggesting the basement workshop in Hobson’s shop. In the run up to the start, this grid was lifted, and the chap disappeared off stage. I suspect he was Dylan Charles, who plays Willie Mossop, as he told us later in the post-show that he’d done some leather working in preparation for the role. (Didn’t think to ask if it was him, sorry.)

Once the grid was up, we could see the shop interior properly. It was a beautifully detailed setting, with lots of boots on the shelves, and various boxes etc. To our right, near the front of the stage, was a tall desk with the account books, and there was a small settee to our left, with a few plain chairs here and there. The shop door was far left, and the entrance to the living area was to our right.

The plot is straightforward so I won’t cover it again, but I will say that as well as enjoying the performances, I was reminded of how well written and structured the play is. I noticed how, in the final act, the sisters set us up to really appreciate the change in Willie, by going on about how timid they know him to be. I could also see the echoes of Shakespeare – The Taming of the Shrew and King Lear. The only weakness appeared to be John Savident as Hobson, who didn’t seem to have all his lines fully at his command, though as he was playing drunk some of the time, it didn’t always matter so much. Willie and Maggie (Carolyn Backhouse) were excellent, and the rest of the cast played their parts, even the small ones, to the hilt. This was a really good night out, and I hope they do well on tour.

At the post-show there was some silliness about how authentic the accents were – given that they were attempting to recreate the spoken Lancashire of the period I’m amazed anyone wanted to complain, but Northerners can be so touchy! The cast had done some individual research, and we found out that it was only ten years before the action of the play that a law had been passed forbidding men from beating their wives or daughters, making more sense of some of the comments early on about how useful it is to have a wife to keep daughters in line. The cast seemed to be very well integrated, and everyone joined in. I got the impression they’re all impressed by this play, and enjoying doing it. Good luck on tour!

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Twelfth Night – August 2007

10/10

By: William Shakespeare

Directed by: Philip Franks

Venue: Chichester Festival Theatre

Date: Tuesday 14th August 2007

We didn’t have the best of starts to tonight’s performance. The journey over was done in pouring rain, and we squelched our way to the theatre only to find the foyer jam-packed with other theatregoers as the doors hadn’t opened yet, and only ten minutes to go before the scehduled start. When we finally got seated, I was amazed to find that we were only a few minutes after the start time, and the play itself began fairly soon after that.

I had been worried that the warm-up might affect my enjoyment of the play (I can get a real sulk on me at times) but I was proved absolutely, completely, and blissfully wrong when we were treated to one of the best Twelfth Night’s I’m ever likely to see. I was puzzled at first to see three men come on stage, one standing at the back, one, the butler or manservant, off to one side, and another attendant sitting on the other side. The music, played on the phonograph (see below) was lovely and sad (Elgar’s Sospiri, per the program notes) and then I realised! We’d seen two productions (Chekov International Theatre Festival meets Cheek by Jowl, and Propeller) where the opening scene was the aftermath of the shipwreck, and I’d forgotten (oh, so quickly) that the opening scene in the generally accepted text is Orsino’s “If music be the food of love…”. Blow me down with a feather, we were not only getting Shakespeare’s language, we seemed to be getting his version of the play as well! What a turn up! Recovering my composure quickly, I focused on watching this performance with an open mind, with one further adjustment later.

Best to describe the set now, before I get too carried away. At the back of the stage was a wall of glass panels, as in a Victorian style large conservatory, with three sets of double doors. A curved walkway in front led to some steps on our right, and below these was a beautiful floor design, suggestive of many things. The interior was blue and shiny, looking like a pool or a water splash. There were tendrils of water spiralling out from this centre, and at first I wasn’t sure if they were wet or dry. Dry, as it turned out. Interlaced with the water spirals was a rough, textured shoreline, looking like sandbars, with one or two areas of planking, as in a jetty. In front of the walkway were a couple of patches of sand grasses, left and centre, and to the right of the pool, on the slant, was a bench, while on the left was a box of some kind (turned out to be a piano), also on the slant, as if half buried in the sand. These gave a wonderful sense of flotsam and jetsam, the after effects of the shipwreck, as well as being practical stage furniture. With the glassy blue of the pond and the greyish colour of the sandbars, there was also a hint of winter and a frozen pond, which was quite appropriate at the end when Feste wraps his coat around himself for the final song. And of course they also suggested the sea, and the beach. This was a masterpiece of design.

Above all this hung several items which were lowered to illustrate and enhance various parts of the story (this is a bit like The Generation Game – can I remember what was on the conveyer belt?). There was a model of a large ship (four funnels – possibly the Titanic?), a life belt (according to Steve, it said SS Rodrigo – the name Sebastian uses when he’s first rescued), a toy dog on wheels, an old style phonograph with trumpet loudspeaker, a plant pot with a tuft of very dead-looking plant, a candelabra, and a pair of tannoy loudspeakers. I will try to remember to mention each item as it’s lowered down. I’ll just mention now that during the interval the chair and piano were removed, so the set for the second half was as for the first but without the integral seating. Costumes were Edwardian glamour, with a strong touch of Upstairs, Downstairs.

Martin Turner as Orsino listened to the music for quite a while. This was no hardship. At the end, he gave us the lines beautifully, and I got the impression of an older, world-weary Orsino, who’s perhaps in love with Olivia because there’s nothing else to fill his days. Let’s face it, he doesn’t seem to have spent much time with her up to now, so his references to “fancy” may imply there’s no real basis for his love – an elderly Romeo falling for a younger Rosalind perhaps? All the lines were delivered well, throughout the play, and I heard far more than I usually do, which made it all the richer. I also liked Orsino’s moodiness when he wants the music, then doesn’t, and also when he changes mood at the end of the scene, from being upbeat about Olivia’s capacity for love, to being gloomy again. Perhaps he’d just reminded himself of what he hadn’t got?

Viola (Laura Rees) was carried on by her sea captain, and set down in the middle of the stage. She seemed a perky waif, a bit dishevelled by being nearly drowned, but not particularly affected by her experiences. This was where I had to do another mental adjustment to stop myself from failing to appreciate the performance. I’d been used to recent Violas being more emotional and more obviously grief-stricken, but this performance was different. This Viola was showing more resourcefulness and humour, and fewer outward signs of grief, and it was both perfectly valid and a very good performance. I still found the “My brother, he is in Elysium” very moving, and had a little sniffle. (I had several more sniffles and an outright sob later on – great fun.) This was a very good scene for telling us where we are, who the relevant characters are, and what the situation is.

Another benefit of this production is that it’s an ensemble piece along with Macbeth. As a result, we have such a tremendous cast for this play that many of the relatively minor parts were played by hugely talented and skilled actors. With such a beefing up of all the roles, the whole production soared to new heights, and there was not one weak area.

The next scene showed this up very well. We get to meet Sir Toby (Paul Shelley), Maria (Suzanne Burden), and later Sir Andrew Aguecheek (Scott Handy). Maria is doing her best to warn Sir Toby that his drunken revels will get him into trouble, but he’s not bothered. A couple of maids have brought on the tea tray, and he has a cup of tea, flirting with the maids as he does. He also tips some whisky from his hip flask into the cup. It’s clear he likes a good time, and that Maria has a soft spot for him, though not as completely as later?

Sir Andrew arrives, fresh from bathing, judging by his swimsuit. Scott Handy played him marvellously well. It’s a difficult part, because on the one hand he is a fool, and the butt of many a joke, but he is also hard done by, and his relationship with Sir Toby is one of the darker aspects of the play. Here we have a Sir Andrew who’s infatuated with Sir Toby, always trying to be like him, to copy what he says and does, and who is all too easy to gull. I got the impression he’s up from the country, with lots of money and not much in the way of brains, almost childlike. It was possible to laugh at him, but I did feel very moved by his “I was adored once too”; it suggested a missed opportunity that might have made his life turn out very differently. The dancing that he did, in fact all the dancing in the production, was contemporary to the setting – early 1920s. Sir Andrew’s efforts included a kind of vertical doggy-paddle, and were suitably funny.

Back at Orsino’s court, the next scene was done as a picnic, with flasks of tea and a rug. Then we see Maria chiding Feste (Michael Feast). He’s carrying a large suitcase, and is on the tart and cynical side. He certainly knows what’s going on between people, as his comments about Sir Toby and Maria indicate.

Olivia (Kate Fleetwood) arrives with her entourage. Malvolio (Patrick Stewart) is holding her umbrella, and is dressed like a butler. I noticed he had that slight head tremor which is often associated with very rigid people. Olivia is more sprightly than is usual, and really does enjoy Feste’s wit, smiling if not actually laughing, and sitting beside him on one of the benches. She’s quite strict in rebuffing Malvolio about his attitude. Malvolio is played with a strong Scottish accent, which fits the lines perfectly, and reminds me of a dourer version of Mr Hudson. He’s completely contemptuous of Feste, and we can see the battle lines being drawn already.

Now Viola arrives, and we see several attempts by Olivia to find out who this messenger is. Finally Malvolio reports on him in a very long-winded, pedantic way, and is most surprised later to be told to leave along with the rest of the servants. He peers back through the window as he leaves, which got a good laugh.

For once, Maria isn’t asked to put on her veil to confuse Viola (it’s not in the text), and despite this, the scene worked perfectly well, with Viola/Cesario’s questions about who the lady of the house is seeming more impertinent, but also more practical. This scene was very brisk, and although it lost some of the details I’m used to from other productions, it did get across how Viola’s passion for Orsino is conveyed in her speeches to Olivia, and it’s this that Olivia falls for. It’s as if Viola was wooing Olivia herself, and yet she’s just expressing her own love for Orsino. I also got the need Viola has to see Olivia’s face – she wants to see what she’s up against, and finds the competition pretty stiff, looks-wise.

Antonio and Sebastian’s scene is set in a railway station – lowering of tannoy speakers. Antonio is really keen on Sebastian, and dashes after him to catch the same train. When Malvolio catches Cesario, I was aware that she covers up for Olivia by not disclosing that she left no ring. Again, Viola is pretty cheerful through her working out that Olivia is in love with her boyish disguise, but it all came across clearly.

Now we have Sir Toby and Sir Andrew carousing in the wee small hours. Feste joins in, and again the phonograph is deployed. (It had a slight problem which meant we heard it scratching away for a bit, but that was soon sorted.) Michael Feast demonstrated what a good voice he has with Feste’s song, and when Maria arrives, there are two or three other servants with her. We’re treated to a dance number, with everyone joining in except Sir Andrew. Malvolio arrives, and puts a stop to the party atmosphere. He’s very unpleasant, especially to Maria, and I could see how he’s set himself up for their revenge. Maria’s device is clearly thought up as she speaks, and much appreciated by the two knights.

Back at the Duke’s, the music is played by two of Orsino’s servants – one on the piano buried in the sand, and the other playing a guitar? (possibly – it’s been a while). Viola’s suffering is clear to see, and Orsino obviously feels a strong affection for this boy, but without any of the uneasiness that’s often shown. Viola is actually kissed three times in this production – once by Orsino, once by Olivia in a later scene, which she doesn’t exactly fight off, and once by Antonio, which really throws her. She also kisses Orsino once herself, at the end.

Now for the big set piece of the play – the gulling of Malvolio. Sir Toby, Sir Andrew and Fabian are concealed behind an inconspicuous huge red umbrella or parasol, which may not be out of place on a beach, but is perhaps the most unusual hiding place I’ve seen for this bit. Naturally, they keep poking their heads up to say their lines, and Sir Andrew keeps his up too long at one point. When Malvolio “revolves”, Sir Andrew is in plain view, but Malvolio is so wrapped up in himself, he doesn’t see him at first. By the time he does a slow double take, Sir Andrew has had time to get into hiding again.

Patrick Stewart’s performance as Malvolio is the best thing I’ve seen in a long time. He’s a nasty piece of work, and Patrick Stewart doesn’t hold back with playing that side of his character. He insults Feste, has a go at Sir Toby (quite reasonably, in the circumstances), and threatens Maria, as well as raising suits against others, such as Viola’s sea captain. In this scene, he’s positively leering as he describes his idea of married life with Olivia, and he’s even got the proof that such things can happen – he shows us a copy of the Tatler where the pictures prove that “the lady of Strachy married the yeoman of the wardrobe”. We’re all ready to see him taken down a peg or eighteen, when he chances on the letter. The first four lines are written on the outside of the letter, and then we get to the prose bit inside. The reading of the lines was excellent, and the scene was immensely funny. His reactions to the contents inside were fantastic – he’s overjoyed to find she loves him. Malvolio didn’t practise his smiling at this point, so we get to see the fully rehearsed version later. I wasn’t always aware of the reactions from the others, as Malvolio was so funny.

After the interval, with the set slightly adjusted, we get a very evocative seaside interlude, as Feste does his Punch and Judy for a couple of youngsters, another child has her balloon popped by an unpleasant young man, the policeman strolls around chatting to one or two folk, and all is summer jollity. Sebastian and Antonio treat us to scene 3 (before we’ve had one and two), and as they talk, a gentleman who’s been reclining on the far side of the beach, reading his paper, seems to recognise Antonio. He goes over to speak to the policeman, indicating Antonio, and although they don’t do anything more at this time, it’s obvious he’s been rumbled. As everyone disappears, and Feste is packing up his folding Punch and Judy kit into his suitcase, Viola arrives, and starts Act 3 scene 1 proper, by asking Feste if he lives by his tabor. Again, the wit is lively, and sets us up nicely for the next part.

When Olivia and Maria enter, Sir Andrew is well taken with Viola’s words to Olivia, and it’s clear he intends to mangle together a sentence using them all as soon as he can. When they’re told to leave, he’s made at least one failed attempt to give Olivia a present, and he lingers as long as possible behind the glass doors, muttering “odours”, “pregnant”, etc.

After Viola and Olivia have had another verbal tussle, it’s the turn of Sir Toby and Fabian to set up Sir Andrew for the duel with Cesario. Sir Toby’s unkindness is starting to show more clearly, and his character’s darker side is coming to the fore. Next Maria prepares us for the entrance of Malvolio.

Olivia herself comes on first, and we can see she’s being seriously affected by her infatuation with Cesario. Her hair is starting to come down, and she’s much more emotional than any Olivia I’ve ever seen. Later on, she’s actually crying because she can’t get what she wants. This time, though, her additional edginess works really well to set up her reactions to Malvolio’s preposterous appearance.

Maria and another maid are with her when Malvolio arrives, and they spend most of their time trying to shield her from him. At one point, Olivia’s standing on the chair with the maids in front of her. Malvolio’s in a kilt (naturally, given the accent), and his stockings are indeed yellow, and seriously cross-gartered. His first grin got a good laugh, and he continues to grimace for all he’s worth throughout the scene. When Olivia asks if he will go to bed, he runs his hand up her leg. He also brandishes his legs, and even waggles them when he’s lying on the ground. They’re all running away from him, but he keeps on going, and when they run off at the end, lifts his kilt to flash them. It was very funny.

Now they’ve gone, he can admit to the tightness of the garters, and sits down to untie them. He’s tremendously dismissive of Sir Toby, and as he reties his garters in order to leave, I can see that he’s tying them the wrong way round – effectively tying his knees together. Sure enough, when he gets up to make a dignified exit, he finds he can’t move his legs separately, and has to make an uncomfortable decision. Does he redo them, or does he hop off the stage, hoping no one will notice? Being the kind of character he is, and not wanting to admit to a mistake, he chooses to hop, and we were in fits of laughter as he tries to maintain his dignity while hopping to the edge of the stage with his knees together. There’s another decision point as he comes to the steps and realises what he’s let himself in for. It’s a tribute to Patrick Stewart’s fitness that he’s able to have Malvolio, after an agonising pause for thought, hop down the steps and off the stage. It just about brought the house down. I have no idea what the other characters were up to – I only had eyes for Malvolio. Brilliant.

The duel was good fun as well. It’s clear neither duellist wants to fight, and again we see the unpleasant side of Sir Toby. Antonio breaks up the fight, and when he asks for his money back, we can see Viola grasping the possibility that Sebastian is alive very quickly. It’s also the first time Cesario’s integrity has been questioned, though not the last. It’s about here that I started seeing this as a farce, with all the threads being carefully woven to give us the marvellous comedy of their unravelling.

The abuse of Malvolio was unpleasant, and I felt he was very badly treated, despite all his own unpleasantness earlier. It was clear that Sir Toby realised he couldn’t keep this sort of behaviour up any longer.

Sebastian was also very good. He handled the possibility of his madness remarkably well, as well as his sudden marriage to a beautiful woman – he’s got some brains, that boy. For the final revelation, Viola is standing at the front of the stage, with Orsino in front of her so that Sebastian can’t see her when he rushes on from the back. When they do see each other, and circle round, warily, I was sobbing with the emotion of it all. At the end, Antonio leaves the stage, a free man but without the man he loves, while the others gather behind the glass walls of the conservatory to celebrate. Feste comes out to sing us his final song, and that’s it.

Well, I didn’t manage to put in where each item was lowered down, but that’s tough luck – I’ve written quite enough for one play. I particularly liked the excellent reactions from the spare characters on stage – often they don’t seem to be fully participating, but tonight they were completely involved and responding noticeably to the main action. I so want this production to transfer, but sadly, it seems it’s only the Macbeth that will be going to London. A shame.

The post-show was interesting, and we found out that Michael Feast apparently suggested that Patrick Stewart play Malvolio with a Scottish accent. With Macbeth, there were a lot of men crammed into one small dressing room over at the Minerva, and they had a running joke going with Scottish accents. After the suggestion, Patrick Stewart tried it out, and found it fitted the lines perfectly, so the rest evolved from that. I don’t remember much more of what was said now, but the performance will live on in my memory for a long time. Hopefully, I’ll still be able to enjoy future productions, and if they’re half as good as this one I’ll count myself lucky.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

The Waltz Of The Toreadors – July 2007

6/10

By: Jean Anouilh, translated by Ranjit Bolt

Directed by: Angus Jackson

Venue: Minerva Theatre

Date: Monday 9th July 2007

This performance was all knees, shoulders, and trips to the loo. As a result, I missed some of it, and couldn’t focus well enough on the rest, so I’m giving it a six star rating overall, allowing for distractions.

Our seats were prime, I thought, central and not too far back. This was until I found I needed to lean back to get comfortable (I prefer more upright seats), and found the knees behind were almost permanently jammed into my shoulders.  The people attached to them moved around a fair bit as well – obviously they had less leg room than was comfortable – so not a good advert for the theatre’s designers. For the second half, I was able to move into the seat the other side of Steve, and the lady behind me there was so small that there was no chance of her knees reaching anywhere near me. Thank goodness. Then I felt a need to dash just before the final scene, and again during the post-show, but we won’t go into details on that one. Suffice it to say that the screen outside the auditorium came in very handy, and the staff were very solicitous – thank you.

Three paragraphs in, and now I can start to talk about the play. It’s a “gritty” comedy, one that Anouilh intended to have a darker edge to it, making for uncomfortable viewing. (I don’t think he intended the discomfort to be quite as literal as I experienced.) The play tells the story of an older couple, a soldier and an actress, whose love has disintegrated over the years and now they spend their time tearing each other to shreds. There’s a long-lost lover, a newly discovered child, a couple of ugly sisters and a sensible doctor. It’s like a cross between Chekov and Molière.

Peter Bowles had been ill just a few days before and they’d managed to cover for him, but he was back now and in fine form, although not fully recovered yet. Even so, his performance was excellent. He played the husband, General St Pé, whose cynical and often cutting observations on marriage, his wife and his two daughters, provided most of the humour. This is a man who can loathe his wife and at the same time be enraged at the idea of any other man enjoying her. He keeps trying to challenge the doctor to a duel over her, as he believes the doctor has had an affair with his wife. Actually, it turns out she’s had lots of affairs, none of which he knew about.

The wife, Amélie, was played by Maggie Steed, and this was another brilliant performance. We don’t get to see her for some time, as she spends the first part of the first scene screeching at her husband from her bedroom next door. She’s convinced he’s off rogering some maid or other, while he’s just trying to get a few moments of peace and quiet to write his memoirs. Eventually, he shuts the door on her – she’s unable to leave her bed – but his day doesn’t get any better.

At first, I felt a bit more sympathy for the husband here. He seems to be stuck with a horribly nagging wife and gets little peace. But then we find out about his former lover who has waited seventeen years for him to be free, seventeen sexless years, and who now arrives to suggest they get started on their relationship. Then, later, we learn from his wife about her loneliness as he flirted with everything in a skirt, and how she went home from a dance, escorted by another officer, and started her string of affairs that very night. It’s the same night the General, then a junior officer, met his lover, Mlle Ghislaine de Ste-Euverte, and they danced to The Waltz Of The Toreadors. By this time my sympathies are with no-one, as they’ve both shown how unpleasant their possessive love can be, and I could just sit back and watch the plot unravel.

The lover, Ghislaine, tries to kill herself by throwing herself out of the window, but falls instead on top of the General’s secretary, who carries her upstairs. At the same time, the General and the doctor bring Amélie back in her wheelchair – turns out the inability to walk was a sham; she’s been skipping round the neighbourhood like a perky lamb as soon as everyone’s back was turned. There was an uncomfortable moment tonight when the General got Ghislaine’s hair caught in his over-abundant braid. Catherine Russell, playing Ghislaine, found it very funny, but composed herself, and Peter Bowles finally managed to detach himself without help. We did wonder whether the secretary was meant to carry Amélie off, or if that had been a quick bit of recovery.

Left alone with the secretary, Ghislaine finds out just what she’s been missing all these years, and although at first she thinks it’s the General who’s kissed her, she soon finds out, and decides to go for the younger model who’s more like the General was when she fell in love with him. With other revelations, it all ends happily enough for the average comedy, but with the darker aspects of this one, I’m not sure any of this lot are going to be happy for long.

All the performances were excellent. The set was simple, but did have to be changed a couple of times. Two walls festooned with crossed swords (handy for such a temperamental dueller), a desk, chaise longue, chairs and carpet for the study, and for the bedroom, the other sides of the walls, the same desk (too difficult to move?) a bed and bedside tables.

I don’t remember all the funny bits, but one is worth a mention. When the General finds out his Ghislaine is now attached to his secretary, he naturally challenges him to a duel, but can’t get the swords down off the wall. He actually asks the secretary to help him, then realises how inappropriate that is.

In all, this was a very funny piece, but I felt the darker aspects were never explored enough to be interesting, so they fell a bit flat for me. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again, but hopefully in more comfortable circumstances.

The post-show brought out some interesting information, mainly about the way the parts had been covered while Peter Bowles was out of action. Nicholas Woodeson had played the General, the Curé had played the doctor, and someone from the mass of actors available in Chichester this time of year had popped in to play the Curé. When asked about how they felt having the audience so close to them, Catherine Russell confessed she’d been really worried when she saw the layout, but in fact, once they were playing the piece, she saw how well it worked and now she liked it. They were also asked how they coped getting on and off stage in the blackouts, and referring to the earlier question, one actress pointed out how handy it was to have the audience so close, as they could always feel for the front row’s knees, and grope their way out!

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Mutton – July 2007

6/10

Devised and performed by Julia Munrow, Donna Flinn and Jean Heard

Venue: Mill Studio, Guildford

Date: Thursday 5th July 2007

This was a series of sketches based on the experiences of women getting older, past their prime. It started with a slide show. First we were welcomed to the show, and as we didn’t respond, the next slide welcomed us a bit louder! This went on for a little while, getting us warmed up, and made use of various techniques, such as the diminishing letter sizes on an optician’s chart, to get across the problems we face as we age. Then there were some video sketches, mostly very funny. I especially liked the woman (played by Donna) who was trying to use her daughter’s mobile to change the channel on her TV. She also played a woman who was visiting her doctor, and was so relieved to find out she might have dementia, as she had been worried it was the menopause. We also get to see a number of these characters in the later parts of the show.

The first sketch was called Changing Rooms, and had the three main actors trying on clothes in a changing room. Julia was attempting to get into one of those tops that’s all straps and a few scraps of material – how on earth are you meant to put them on? She was certainly having problems. They were actually looking for outfits for Donna’s daughter’s wedding (Donna’s the one who confuses the mobile and the remote), and it was even more bizarre to see them wearing teeny fashions.

Now the stage is set for the next sketch, Wine Bar. A table and three chairs are brought forward by a supposed stage hand, wearing red heels. She grumbles a lot about how this will do in her back, etc., and after a while this was quite funny. She later joins in some of their sketches – once she’d got a pair of trainers on – but sadly, I can’t find any credit for her anywhere.

At the wine bar, the three ladies weave their way over to the only available table, carrying their bottle of wine. They get caught up in the price of it – £35! There’s some humour in the way none of them can work out how much it costs per glass, including Jean not being able to use her mobile phone as a calculator. Donna tries to call her daughter, who’s really clever, but she can’t get the remote control she’s brought with her to dial correctly. They settle for 6 glasses at £6 a glass, and then tackle the trickier subject of how much per sip. This then leads to some unpleasantness, as Julia has sipped more than the others, so should pay more for the bottle – haven’t they already paid, then? They end up getting another bottle, so even if they can’t figure out how much each one owes, they’ll be too sloshed to care.

More grumbling as the table and chairs are removed, then enter the three with yoga mats. Donna is teaching yoga to the others, but during this oasis of peace and calm, Jean has a thought. (Don’t laugh, it can still happen to women of our age!) I don’t remember all the details, but basically she talks with her spirit guide, and comes up with a dead tropical fish, that’s still angry at being accidentally cooked by Julia, and served up to her kids! At the end of their session, they do a “mantra”, chanting for Jean, as Tara, to get a job.

So in the next scene, Job For Tara, she’s got one. At this point I should mention that the whole evening is sponsored by Tena, the purveyors of feminine hygiene products. Indeed, as we came in to the Mill, there were sample incontinence pads scattered about the seating, in case we were “laughing too much to care”. When her friends arrive to check out the new career, it turns out Tara’s doing promotional work, dressed as a Tena pad. She’s hugely embarrassed. And then Julia suggests she goes back into children’s entertainment, which she and Donna used to do. It’s such a good idea, that the next sketch, Party Entertainers, shows us their skills at that particular job.

Of course, there are no spare actors to play the kids, so they use the audience. I haven’t felt so young for a long time. This is the audience participation number, and they do it brilliantly. Tara is some superwoman type, Donna is sort of dressed as a mutant ninja turtle (complete with tail), and Julia plays a master of ceremonies. They split us into three. This caused one poor child to cry, as he/she thought they were going to chop us up, but it turned out it was three groups, so no one was harmed. In fact, Julia kindly escorted one of the children in the front row off to the toilet so she wouldn’t wet herself. The little girl even had her mummy’s handbag with her.

Then came the singsong. We were in the middle group, so after those on our right had sung about hot flushes, turning into power surges, we got to sing “I’ve got the memory loss blues in my head…”, with clapping! We were really good, but then the third group got to do a great number, with movements, about the pelvic floor rock, so we looked a bit poor by comparison. Then they got us all standing up and doing all three songs together, which, amazingly enough, we did. It was great fun, and left the place buzzing at the end of the first half.

The second half opened with Women in Power, where all three ladies play Prime Minister types from their respective countries. Julia is from Russia, and wore a silly fur hat to prove it, Donna was the British PM, and Jean played a French Premier. They quickly put the world to rights, abolishing war and deciding all feminine hygiene products should be free. If only it were that simple!

Chez Gordon Ramsay gave us Jean and Donna as friends coming in to a restaurant where Julia is a seriously menopausal waitress. Actually, she comes across as more of stroppy teenager at first, but then the hormones kick in and the threats of violence escalate. Mind you, I have some sympathy, as the two customers are having a good old time changing their minds every five seconds. Julia finally crawls off as the two women scarper.

At the Spa has a conversation between Julia and Jean being interrupted by Donna, who’s in the middle chair. They’re all waiting for various layers of paint to dry, and Donna, who seems to be one of the ladies from the video sketches, is complaining about her terrible day, having to cancel her bridge lesson to see her chiropractor, only to be told there was nothing wrong with her back. Across her, Jean and Julia are discussing their lives and problems. Jean was having some problem with a supermarket (that’s what set Donna off, having to pick up her own groceries that the delivery man had left by the door!), while Julia’s husband was annoyed she didn’t read her emails. If she had, she would have known to iron his shirt for him. (And he was only next door!) Jean’s story about the supermarket includes one comment where the person serving her asks for something, and Julia is dismissive. She doesn’t believe it, because Jean states that the supermarket employee said “please” (as if).

The Queue was preceded by the grumbling stage hand commenting on how she wouldn’t mind doing some of this stuff – if those three could do, it couldn’t be all that hard! She then joins them in the queue, getting some strange looks from the others. Julia comes on first, in leathers, and then Jean and Donna join her, obviously together. Finally the stage hand comes on, and tags along at the back. We don’t know what they’re queuing for at this stage. Attempting to make polite conversation, Jean finds out Julia’s character’s name, and assumes from her manner and dress that she’s a lesbian. Turns out she’s going to enrol in a car maintenance class, ‘cos that’s where the men are. Jean and Donna tell her they go to the golf course for that, and when Julia says she doesn’t know how to play, they inform her that they don’t either. So they agree to meet up at the golf course.

Golf! When Jean brings on her golf bag and plonks it down in the middle of the stage, and then puts a fake golf ball on the floor and starts to wiggle her way into a golfing stance, I was a little concerned because she was aiming straight at me. Fortunately she was right when she said she didn’t know how to play – she swings and misses. What a relief! She’s joined by the others, and it’s clear they’re beyond hopeless – they don’t even know which direction the hole is in! Julia is totally obsessed with the rules, and reckons Donna was out of order peeing beside a bush – she’s supposed to use a tree. After a low-flying ball narrowly misses them, they agree that the rules are silly (typical men’s thing), and head off to the bar for a drink.

In Dating Agency, Donna plays Sarah, and older woman who’s trying out the dating game after what’s presumably a long gap. Turns out she’s lost her husband – “lost” as in he stayed on the Piccadilly line train after she got off, and she hasn’t seen him since. She doesn’t rate high enough in the agency’s scoring system, so she’s offered the chance to be a model in the Trusty Trendsetters setup (next sketch). She lost out because of her looks (5), dropping down to a 4 because she didn’t have money, dropping to a 3 because she didn’t have any celebrity friends, etc. Jean, as the head of the agency, keeps calling her Sally instead of Sarah, but she gets it right in the next section.

Trusty Trendsetters is one of those operations that sells you stuff you don’t want at ridiculous prices in the comfort of someone’s home, or in this case, a hotel function room. The humour is mainly visual here, as Donna looks absolutely ridiculous in the outfits she’s wearing. There’s a Trusty Trendsetters apron, which doubles as a bag (in case you have to jet off to foreign climes with only half an hour to pack) and finally as a waterproof hat. The basic black top is long enough for Donna/Sarah, the short one, to wear as a dress, and can be worn either way round, giving two distinct looks – the black dress with round neck, and the black dress with V-neck. Fantastic! Underneath, Sarah is wearing the multifunctional underwear and swimsuit, all in black, and there’s also a wrap which can do service as a throw, a beach rug and a skirt! Whew! And all a mere snip at £499! There’s also a range of Trusty Trendsetters cosmetics which can make you look ever so much younger, though if they work, Sarah hadn’t been using them. All in all, a very entertaining sketch. For the finale, they did a song, with the stage hand joining them on plastic electric guitar.

There was a lot of good material in this show, and it was generally very well received by the audience. I did notice some other jokes that just seemed to slip under the radar, and I couldn’t help feeling there was more to be got out of this. Perhaps a good director could help them tighten it up? Anyway, I was very glad I’d seen it, and it gave us a lot of laughs.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Pete & Dud: Come Again – June 2007

3/10

By: Chris Bartlett and Nick Awde

Directed by: Owen Lewis

Venue: Connaught Theatre

Date: Tuesday 26th June 2007

This performance suffered from a number of factors. Firstly, the audience was as sparse as I’ve seen in the Connaught for a long while. They normally get better attendances than this, but tonight there was very little atmosphere from our side of the curtain. Secondly, the comedy material in the show was not really designed to get the audience involved. The Morecambe and Wise tribute show, The Play What I Wrote, is the opposite of this. They did their time learning how to get an audience on their side, and the material in that show gives the actors plenty of opportunity to interact with the crowd. But the Peter Cook and Dudley Moore stuff is at the start of alternative comedy – satirical and surreal – so it’s more up to the audience to get themselves involved, and if they’re not interested, tough.

Thirdly, the structure of the show didn’t help too much, either. It was done as a chat show from the 80s, with Dudley Moore being interviewed by a combination of Russell Harty and Terry Wogan, and Peter Cook showing up part-way through. We got flashbacks of their days with Beyond the Fringe, etc, so we did get to see a fair bit of their material, but we also got snippets of behind the scenes stuff. I felt this made the whole evening rather clunky. To get into the flashback, they had to get props, etc, and while the set was well constructed to allow for all the different settings, it did limit their movements. Also, the need to dispose of the props, hats, and the rest, after the flashback, meant there were longer gaps than I would have liked between scenes.

Finally, the contents of the play are well known, and have already been explored well on TV, so it’s hard to know just who this play was intended for. Aficionados of their work would only get a modest amount of the humour presented to them, and the darker side of their relationship wasn’t explored in enough depth to be really satisfying.

What did I like? Well, the performances were good enough, and some of the sketches were still fun to see, although it’s very difficult to impersonate such a one-off as Peter Cook effectively. I did like the way that neither Pete nor Dud was made the scapegoat for the problems in their relationship. The various TV programs I’ve seen about them often seem to take one side or the other, but while there’s no doubt that in his later years the drinking made Peter Cook a difficult man to deal with, it’s also likely that there were other factors as well. So well done for keeping a balance. I also liked the way the action often contradicted what was being said on the chat show.

All in all, I was glad when it ended, though I hope it has better luck and bigger audiences for the rest of its run.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Bedroom Farce – June 2007

6/10

By: Alan Ayckbourn

Directed by: Robin Herford

Venue: Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Date: Monday 11th June 2007

This is an early Ayckbourn, and I enjoyed being reminded of his early style. It hasn’t dated too badly, although mentioning emails and still using 70s style phones did seem a bit out of kilter.

The play is set in three bedrooms. Delia (Louise Jameson) and Ernest (Colin Baker) are heading out for an anniversary meal. Their son, Trevor (Ben Porter), is one of those walking disaster areas so pivotal in early Ayckbourn plays, and he’s married Susannah (Beth Cordingly), a good match in terms of an ability to cause chaos without really trying. They’re going through a bit of difficulty in their marriage, and the time they spend in the company of other couples may help them to resolve their problems, but doesn’t do much for the others.

There’s Jan (Hannah Yelland), one of Trevor’s previous girlfriends, of whom Delia is still very fond, and who seems to still have a bit of feeling left for Trevor, despite her reputation for common sense. She’s married to Nick (Timothy Watson), who’s stuck in bed with some painful injury to a motor muscle, and behaving very badly. It may be because of his injury, but I suspect it’s a bit more widespread than that. Jan leaves him for a short while to go to a house-warming at Kate (Natalie Cassidy) and Malcolm’s place. They’re relatively newly married, and still finding out about each other. Malcolm (James Midgley) has a habit of leaving various items in the bed – hairbrush, frying pan, that sort of thing. He also thinks he can do DIY, but can’t, though Trevor’s attempts to help certainly don’t improve things. Between Trevor and Susannah, nobody gets much sleep, despite all of the action being set in the bedrooms of Delia and Ernest, Nick and Jan, and Kate and Malcolm.

As usual, it took a while to get going, as all the characters and relationships had to be established first. I did like Delia’s line about the restaurant keeping the table for them as they were regulars – “we go there every year!” All the performances were very enjoyable. I possibly liked Nick best, though there wasn’t a lot in it. The humour is mainly of the embarrassing sort so I didn’t always feel comfortable with it, but by the end I was thoroughly enjoying it all.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me

Rafta, Rafta – June 2007

6/10

By: Ayub Khan-Din, based on All In Good Time by Bill Naughton

Directed by: Nicholas Hytner

Venue: Lyttelton Theatre

Date: Tuesday 6th June 2007

This was based on an English play from quite a while ago, and has been really well adapted. I was mildly concerned that so many attitudes that we consider old-fashioned in mainstream British culture seem to be easily expressed by transferring them to modern-day Asian communities. I also noted the unusual number of Asians in the audience, and it seemed a pity that it takes a production like this to get them coming to the theatre, especially as the whole point of this play seems to be how much ground we have in common. However.

A young couple have to live with his parents after their marriage, until they can get a place of their own. As they don’t have a honeymoon, their attempts to consummate their relationship are hampered by the close proximity of the rest of the family, especially the father (Harish Patel). He’s a larger-than life character, who came to Britain many years ago, and worked hard to establish himself and bring his wife over as well. He’s the domineering sort, always having to be right, but with a good heart and a lot of kindness, when it can be brought out of him. His wife (Meera Syal), is more sympathetic, and appreciates the difficulties the couple are having, but even she doesn’t realise how long it’s taking them to get down to it. It takes some strong confrontations and a row to get them into bed and shagging, and there are lots of comedy opportunities along the way, together with some not-too-surprising revelations.

The set was interesting. At the beginning, as we sat down, there was a screen across the front of the stage, showing a view of a terraced street. As the play started, a couple of lads walked onto the street, and into one of the doors. Behind the screen, the set then began to revolve, as the front door turned towards the right, and the sitting room and kitchen came into view. The screen then rose, and we had an unimpeded view of the house, including the two bedrooms upstairs which would see most of the inaction. I liked this very much.

The performances were excellent, again. It took a while to sort out which character is which, and who’s married to whom, and I also took some time to get used to the accents. Some of the characters spoke with Indian accents, some with Lancashire accents, and some flip-flopped between, as often happens within multi-lingual groups. There was a great sense of family life, of the difficulties any young couple can feel in establishing themselves, and I enjoyed it enormously. I would certainly be interested in anything else this chap writes.

© 2007 Sheila Evans at ilovetheatre.me