All posts by Edward Lukes

Uncategorised

“The Real Ones” at the Bush Theatre 

Waleed Akhtar’s carefully written and wonderfully performed play is about friendship, and its achievements come from its detail. As with this week’s new musical, Why Am I So Single?, the focus is on platonic love and the play is a coming-of-age piece… of sorts. The relationship between Zaid and Neelam, aspiring playwrights who are both Londoners with Pakistani backgrounds, is recounted in depth through teenage partying, career perils and romantic problems. If some moments feel overwrought, the play remains interesting, funny and heartfelt.

As a drug-fuelled nightclub outing for Zaid and Neelam punctuates the play (maybe a little too often) the characters age from 19 to 36. The specifics of their background, including class and location, and the pressure this puts on both their sexualities are impressively elaborated. With such rich material, Nathaniel Curtis and Mariam Haque do a superb job in the title roles. They are supported by boyfriends for both, further strong parts for Nnabiko Ejimofor and Anthony Howell.

Akhtar’s talent is clear. He writes about having young children just as well as being in an ‘open’ gay relationship. But the impression his characters leave is a little murkier. For my money, Neelam overpowers the show – her no-nonsense talking is admirable and Haque brings fantastic charisma to the role. Her story is more interesting and why she abandons her original ambition to be a writer might have been explored more. The treatment of Zaid seems harsher, his character at best immature and increasingly needy. Thankfully Curtis’ excellent comedy skills lighten matters. Director Anthony Simpson Pike’s work is strong throughout, and he is clever to allow the humour in the piece to shine.

There’s a lot of angst from Zaid, and a concomitant risk of compassion fatigue. I’ll admit it’s a pet hate of mine – writers complaining about writing don’t get a lot of sympathy from me. But even taking that into account, he’s an arrogant soul, too self-obsessed at times to be believable. Being truthful about what you write is the central point, with both young writers asked to raise “the stakes” to get their plays put on. Neelam doesn’t, but Zaid does… While Akhtar stays true to his vision, you might consider The Real Ones a small story. But therein lies its strength.

Until 19 October 2024

www.bushtheatre.co.uk

Photo by Helen Muray

Uncategorised

“Why Am I So Single?” at the Garrick Theatre 

Given the massive success of their first musical, Six, anticipation surrounds Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss’s new show. Their story of Henry VIII’s wives performing a concert had a big concept driving it. Why Am I So Single? sounds simpler -just two friends chatting about their love lives and attempting to answer that titular question. But, as you might guess, there’s more going on with such a talented duo. The show is smart, funny and brilliant.

Our heroes (make no mistake, that’s what they are) Nancy and Oliver are stars. They’d concur that they might be “weird and intense”, but a combination of vulnerability, intelligence and wit makes them easy to spend time with. Excellent performances from Jo Foster and Leesa Tulley emphasise admirable qualities. It’s a safe bet most of us would want to join them, with wine, on the sofa the show is based around.

It just so happens Nancy and Oliver are musical theatre writers, working on a new show for this very theatre after a previous hit. Names have been changed to protect identities, so we’ve no idea who characters might be based on! There are a lot of in-jokes (Lionel Bart would be very happy) and they are all very funny. If the references and the metatheatricality are a turn-off, you might have a problem. But instead of the usual arty angst about writing a show, it’s clear Marlow and Moss love what they do, and that enthusiasm is exciting.

“A big fancy musical”

All this is entertaining and convivial, although it targets a youthful audience and going on dates is, dramatically, small stakes. But Why Am I So Single? aims to be “a big fancy musical”. How Marlow and Moss attempt that leap is fascinating. Most obviously, a great ensemble joins our couple, bringing ambitious choreography from Ellen Kane. Performing as household furniture (Max Johns’ costumes are a blast) as well as backing singers and dancers, there’s also a good friend, Arty (the excellent Noah Thomas), filling the stage with energy. It’s all a touch mad (including an accomplished song about a bee) but also, magically, feels grand.

WHY-AM-I-SO-SINGLE-inset-credit-Danny-Kaan

The songs are fantastic. The variety of styles show composers who know every trick in the book, and each number is a great example of writing for the theatre. All songs deserve praise, and several have twists with bite. And the lyrics are a joy, as plenty of swearing sits alongside erudition. Yes, there are bonus points for getting antihistamine and citronella into a song. But alongside laugh-out-loud lines, plenty bring a tear to the eye, stop you in your tracks and provoke thought.

It turns out the show is big and fancy because it has something important to say. We’ve seen modern dating on stage before, but seldom this funny, explored so deeply or with a non-binary character centre stage. But while Nancy and Oliver’s trials in the ‘Meet Market’ of dating apps is great… a further theme comes to the fore. Reassessing platonic relationships is the answer to the show’s question. This new focus on love – increasingly topical – is handled with a cleverness and sensitivity that makes Why Am I So Single? stand out. Marlow and Moss have done it again.

Booking until 13 February 2025

whyamisosingle.com

Photos by Danny Kaan

Uncategorised

“The Real Thing’ at the Old Vic Theatre

This revival, from director Max Webster, of Tom Stoppard’s acclaimed 1982 play is hard to fault. The clever script is matched by a stylish production and intelligent performances. If there has to be some kind of balance between enthusing an audience and making them think, this show attains an equilibrium. It is easy to admire and enjoy The Real Thing, but perhaps harder to fall in love with it.

The play is Stoppard on love – explored through art, of course – and as you might expect the writer provides a lot that’s worth hearing. Since the characters are a playwright and a group of actors, he knows exactly how they should say it all. Webster matches the meta-theatricality in the script with stagehands joining in the action. Everything is smart and funny, entertaining and full of ideas.

That should, surely, be enough? What more could a poor playwright do? But since this is Stoppard, it is hard not to find it all a little… thin. Where’s the culture and history from plays such as Rock ’n’ Roll or Leopoldstadt? Writing so broadly is this playwright’s forte – and unusual gift. Of course, Stoppard can try something different. But – and it’s horribly unfair – The Real Thing just feels like a lot of arty poshos rambling on. 

“persuasive nonsense”

Dismissing Henry (the playwright) and his wives (Annie and Charlotte) is trebly mean as they – and Stoppard – try hard to avoid “persuasive nonsense”. They aim to be truthful, even if they hurt themselves as a result. By being aware of character flaws, the play contains its own critique (Stoppard’s preferred form of defence). But is Stoppard too unkind to his creations? Henry is particularly insufferable, almost challenging the audience to feel for him. 

One benefit from such carefully written characters is the potential they provide for performers. Webster’s exciting cast makes the most of them. Bel Powley’s Annie grows the most, from mercurial to mature, and it is a joy to watch this. Susan Wokoma is particularly funny, while maintaining a steely edge for Charlotte. Both have a lot of argument to get across and do it well. 

James McArdle and Bel Powey in The Real Thing at the Old Vic Theatre
James McArdle and Bel Powey

It is to the credit of all that James McArdle’s Henry is controlled and contained. McArdle finds the wit easy but also conveys the aloofness of the character and his genuine struggle for his art. But how pleasant is it to spend time with Henry? It is certainly hard to see why either woman bothers. We end up with three clearly blessed characters who all come too close to smug. 

The play becomes unbalanced, and secondary roles (all well performed) are lost. Younger characters suffer most but even Oliver Johnstone’s superb performance as Annie’s first husband, Max, feels a distant memory by the interval. Worse, the role of working-class writer Brodie (played by Jack Ambrose) is positively uncomfortable. Of course, it’s supposed to be – he is there to raise questions – but Stoppard doesn’t write straw men, and something has gone wrong here. Do folk talk more about privilege now than they used to? Maybe, but while this lot are aware of how lucky they are, Stoppard seems to have lacked prescience about how grating they would appear some 30 years on from when he wrote the play.

Until 26 October 2024

www.oldvictheatre.com

Photo by Manual Harlan

Uncategorised

“Shifters” at the Duke of York’s Theatre

A lot of people are understandably excited about playwright Benedict Lombe. Shifters is only her second piece, a hit transfer from the Bush Theatre, and is a smart take on a romcom that deserves its big success. The production is a credit to director (and unerring talent spotter) Lynette Linton, as well as the two cast members – Heather Agyepong and Tosin Cole – who should get their mantlepieces ready for trophies.

It’s the story of Des and Dre and, as you might guess, the narrative… shifts: from schoolfriends to lovers to their breakup, and then meeting again after many years. But Shifters is also a memory play, so the action goes back and forth, flipping between that reunion and the couple’s history. Linton makes sure the toing and froing is clear (credit also to the excellent lighting design by Neil Austin), and Lombe uses the structure of her script thrillingly.

“Epic and easy”

The time travelling is great. And it gives rise to big questions. Lombe has things to say about the science of memory, and even first love, raising lots of issues about race, gender, psychology and communication. It helps that Des’s dad is a neuroscientist and that she is a visual artist. There is fresh thinking on tropes around romance – take the idea of soulmates or, rather, if you only have one, should that be sole mates? For each, Linton gives the audience time to think.

Both characters are thinkers, too. They met in debating class at school, and they appeal and excite as a result. That they are so well matched makes the show undeniably sweet, even if they end up apart. Their arguments are fun as well as profound. Nothing is heavy handed, although there are also serious events – Des and Dre have faced trauma. It is telling that Lombe’s skill makes deceased family members vivid characters. Overall, Shifters is marked by its optimism. It’s a relief to watch a play about two successful people! Even if their love didn’t work out, they have fulfilled big dreams.

Maybe their achievements help with the comedy in the piece – this is a very funny play. The repartee between Dre and Des is superb, Agyepong and Cole deliver every line perfectly and are a joy to watch. The swift changes in time, and mood, make the play a tough ask of its cast. Over the course of the years, their characters also shift. But that great sense of humour is the key. Even through heartache, Dre and Des can laugh together, and it proves impossible not to fall in love with them – and this play.

Until 12 October 2024

www.shifterstheplay.co.uk

Photo by Marc Brenner

Uncategorised

“Utoya” at the Arcola Theatre

Italian writer Edoardo Erba’s play consists of three stories connected to Anders Behring Breivik’s 2011 terrorist attack in Norway. We have the parents of a child who has been sent to the titular island, police nearby who hear about the attack, and Breivik’s neighbours, who happen to be siblings. The approaches are uneven, despite clear and disciplined direction from Sarah Stacey, but the writing and performances are admirably sensitive.

A lot of ground is covered. In each case, relationships before the tragic events of 22 July impact reactions. If that sounds like an obvious point for Erba to make, it is made with conviction and insight. But the background isn’t always useful. The frustrations of a marriage are finely detailed but might try your patience. The fractious relationship between police colleagues is a touch unbelievable (although dramatically effectively). Finally, the health problems of a woman who lives with her brother fall flat. Indeed, this couple, who speculate about their new neighbour, come across as odd and confusing. 

Erba works hard to bring in bigger questions. There is discussion about the socialist nature of the camp on Utoya (which might need elaboration for an English audience). A lot about racism seems more relevant and is dropped into the scenes smartly. And there’s plenty of misogyny which, although believable, needs to be explored more. The suggestion that there is a connection between hating women and Breivik’s militarism needs elaboration. Sensationalism is avoided – an important achievement given the subject matter.

As a demanding work, even if it doesn’t quite gel, Utoya is an excellent showcase for the skills of its cast, Kate Reid and Marco Young. Taking on all six roles, along with the problems of each character, means the performances also have highs and lows. I found their depictions of the police the best, those of the siblings, not surprisingly, a little lost. But they are consistently careful, their skill and effort top notch. Along with Stacey’s direction, every moment of the play is treated with respect and the result is a credit to all.

Until 31 August 2024

www.arcolatheatre.com

Photo by Mariano Gobbi

Uncategorised

“Northbound Boy” at the King’s Head Theatre

James Hogan’s play is, regrettably, confused and inadvertently full of inconsistencies. While there’s no reason a script can’t tackle a lot with humour or crossing genres, Northbound Boy has too much thrown into it and the result is messy. Alex Jackson’s competent direction cannot save the show, and the characters are so poor that two out of the three cast members are left floundering.

The play is some kind of romance, as Ken picks up a young hitchhiker called Rory. Their affair, at first transactional, fails to convince, and the ending is just silly. It’s a puzzle as to how provocative we are supposed to find it all. There’s an interesting question struggling to get out: is it the age gap that potentially offends us, or is it the difference in power? Possibly to counter this, efforts are made to make Ken appear weak. He is currently suspended from his job, estranged from his family, paranoid and neurotic. How much of a catch this makes him I won’t say. But his complex situation engenders little.

Back at Ken’s house, ‘themes’ come thick and fast – it seems the play is a family drama. There’s a lot about age again and fathers in general, along with legacy and even the suggestion of ghosts. Oh, and forgiveness is mentioned more than once. There’s also the homophobia Ken has suffered alongside many a modern ill. As Ken “rants” on, little time is given to what Rory, or an audience, might make of it all. A third character, an aunt, is introduced and then wasted. There’s no increase in drama or much of an alternative perspective. Sarah Moyle, who takes the part, gives it a great go, but the character is lost. Hogan gives us three generations, tries to do too much and ends up achieving little.

Given the ground covered, the pace is far too slow, which causes problems when we consider that the show is billed as a comedy. Ken is clearly supposed to be funny, but his wit is long-winded. And Neil Ashton’s delivery does not help. In fairness, there’s only so fast anyone can speak, so I’m not surprised there were stumbles. Hogan needs an editor (a puzzle given his background in publishing), and a ruthless one at that. And Ashton is hampered by Ken being so unbelievable. Despite being a police officer, he is shockingly naïve and incapable of dealing with Rory’s substance abuse (yes, that’s thrown in, too). This is the least convincing copper I’ve seen since…no, sorry… I can’t think of one. And his vocabulary is downright odd. Who googles the word “geek” and calls people a “rascal”?

Coming to the rascal in question, Northbound Boy marks a professional stage debut for Cormac Hyde-Corrin. Despite the role being no better written, Hyde-Corrin seems more comfortable on stage than his colleagues and acquits himself well. There’s a motif about Psycho and Anthony Perkins that Hyde-Corrin does well with, and he makes Rory’s flirting interesting, bringing out touches of sensitivity amid convincing bluster. You don’t feel sorry or threatened by Rory, but both are possibilities and provide much needed intrigue to a flat script full of mistaken efforts.

Until 1 September 2024

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photo by Charles Flint

Uncategorised

“Stranger Things: The First Shadow” at the Phoenix Theatre

This acclaimed hit, with a couple of Olivier Awards last year and a Broadway transfer announced this week, is an adaptation of the Netflix teen horror TV show. Ticket sales are safe, fans happy, and the atmosphere is grand. It’s a long play, packed with action, and entertaining throughout. But perhaps the biggest achievement is that you don’t have to be a devotee of the source material to enjoy its venture on to the stage.

Stranger Things: The First Shadow is a prequel to the TV series, so we meet earlier versions of characters. But background information isn’t needed. It’s set in a small American town in 1959 – ticking boxes for atmospheric setting and nostalgia – where we follow troubled teen Henry Creel, somehow affected by a military experiment so that he has some kind of deadly power. It’s intriguing enough, but quite simple and lightly plotted, given the writing and story are credited to four people: Kate Trefry, The Duffer Brothers and Jack Thorne.

The TV format antecedents are clear. Tension comes from short scenes a few too many times, there are touches of soap opera about relationships, and the ending is poor (a jump scare and too obvious a call for a sequel). But there’s been a conscious and successful effort to move away from the small screen – director Stephen Daldry makes sure the show is ambitious and theatrical, not least with the inclusion of a play at school, a nice touch.

The coming-of-age story isn’t that convincing. Louis McCartney does a good job as the confused Henry and is excellent at being creepy. But his schoolmates are either too grown up or too immature. There’s a nice role for Ella Karuna Williams, who portrays Henry’s love interest, but her brother (played by Christopher Buckley) just ends up annoying. There are surely missed opportunities when it comes to Henry’s parents, played by Alex Young and Michael Jibson, who are both excellent but too clearly wasted. A suspicion of adults isn’t surprising in a show like this. Completing the theme is the scary scientist, another character written broadly but capably played by Patrick Vaill. The latter’s role as a substitute father for Henry could be developed further. But Netflix could easily cast all these guys in one of their shows… and hopefully they will.

It’s not so much the characters, or the story itself, as the telling of the tale that is the focus. And here Stranger Things: The First Shadow lives up to the hype. The technical accomplishments of the show are extraordinary. Miriam Buether’s expensive-looking set deserves more than one round of applause. The illusions and visual effects, by Jamie Harrison and Chris Fisher, will leave you scratching your head, and Jon Clark’s excellent lighting holds the key to a lot of them. Plus the (very loud) sound design by Paul Arditti adds immeasurably. It isn’t all high tech – a lot is done with just torches and the speed of the cast and crew. But what we see is key: the show looks fantastic and there’s no doubt you get your money’s worth.

Booking until 16 February 2025

www.uk.strangerthingsonstage.com

Photos by Manuel Harlan

Uncategorised

“A Chorus Line” at Sadler’s Wells

Taking the audience behind the scenes of show business is an established trope. And, of course, musical theatre nearly always combines song and dance. Both facts reach a new level in this 1975 masterpiece, in which nearly all the action is supposed to be an audition, while singing and choreography are balanced with studious care. This superb revival from Curve, directed by Nikolai Foster, appreciates how the show is rooted in tradition yet is distinctive enough to be called revolutionary.

The scenario could not be simpler. We see 17 performers being interviewed, hear stories about their lives and see them dance. But James Kirkwood Jr and Nicholas Dante’s book does a lot with the idea. There’s humour and tragedy, a mix of bliss and depression, while tension mounts towards that finale number. Foster’s decision to stage the show without an interval isn’t easy on the audience but it breathtakingly highlights every up and down.

A-Chorus-Line

Even the varying detail given to the roles proves interesting. While famous tunes like ‘I Can Do That’ or ‘Sing!’ make excellent showcases for Redmand Rance, then Katie Lee and Joshua Lay, we get to know all the characters. Many numbers are shared, like ‘At the Ballet’ (Lydia Bannister, Kate Parr and Amy Thornton) and have dancing as an integral part. It’s impossible to give enough credit to everyone. Meanwhile the show-within-the show’s director and his former protégée, who wants a job, are held back. These could be the ‘stars’, and the performances from Adam Cooper and Carly Mercedes Dyer are terrific. But, in a show of discipline, they are never allowed to become the focus. The clue is in the title – this show really is about everyone!

As you might expect after nearly 50 years, there are dated moments. The director’s god-like status becomes uncomfortable. An originally comic number about plastic surgery (performed brilliantly by Chloe Saunders) doesn’t get a lot of laughs. But Paul’s long monologue (notably not a song) about his sexuality is still powerful and delivered wonderfully by Manuel Pacific. Concerns about prejudice are, regrettably, still valid. A Chorus Line is revealed as oddly prescient.

The production does the show proud. Marvin Hamlisch and Edward Kleban’s songs are fantastic and, under the musical direction of Matthew Spalding, they sound grand. Remember how important the dancing is (Sadler’s Wells seems a suitable London venue)? The choreography from Ellen Kane is appropriately ambitious. Each character reveals themselves in the way they move, even while the final goal is to become part of a group.

The dancing covers the wild swings in mood the different stories create. And it reflects the variety of what we hear – from rock numbers and strong brass through to the more traditional sound of the number being rehearsed. And, if it isn’t too fanciful, Howard Hudson’s spot-on lighting design feels inspired by dance – with an exciting amount of movement from the conspicuously visible rig. When it comes to that finale, and its tremendous synchronisation, the show is theatre heaven. If fan kicks and jazz hands are what you want, A Chorus Line delivers. It even adds fireworks as a final treat.

Until 25 August 2024

www.sadlerswells.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

Uncategorised

“Fangirls” at the Lyric Theatre Hammersmith

Of many exciting musicals opening in London this year – there are a lot – you might not expect this arrival from Australia to be a five-star favourite. The subject matter is the fandom surrounding a teenage boy band, and one young girl, Edna, with a plan to “save” the lead singer from his own celebrity when he tours to her town. So far, so fun. The show has its own dedicated following – there are Fangirls fan girls – because it really is for everyone: full of surprises, exceptionally smart and very funny.

The music, book, and lyrics are all by Yve Blake, which should make you ‘stan’ her. Blake is brave, not least in having the lead singer of her fictional boy band being a Brit called Harry. The show’s tone is boldly dark and downright rude. I’m not sure how suitable it is for youngsters, but that’s surely just me showing my own age! Of course, you laugh at reactions to the pop idol, the fans are “literally dead” at a concert announcement and there’s a mother character (a fantastic role for Debbie Kurup) for older audience members to relate to. 

But hold on… don’t dismiss these “silly little girls”. The twist is that Fangirlstakes them seriously.

Blake has researched it all, creating an authentic voice for the show… literally. The lyrics are original, and the teenage speech patterns have fascinating effects. The plot has shocks, not least when Edna puts her plan into action (a fantastic end of the first act that I defy you to see coming). But there’s a point behind the technique. Through exploring the impact of the internet, the writing of fan fiction and the fan community, there’s insight into the lives and (unrequited) loves of this cohort that is frequently heartbreaking.  

These girls’ self-esteem is fragile. The parasocial relationships with Harry, and their imaginary conversation with him, reveal fears and real-life difficulties in powerful lyrics. One number, ‘Disgusting’, is a highlight. As it happens, there’s an interesting parallel with another summer hit, Mean Girls, but, for my money, this packs more punch. As the group sings that “nobody loves you like me” (all of them, of course), the lyrics are shared by Edna’s mother singing to her daughter – their relationship is a big theme that gets ample attention.

“Actual philosophical poetry” 

The score is just as clever. A concert from the boy band is a lot of fun, but it is clear from the start that the fictional hits are used in a novel way. Blake can write a pop song and Thomas Grant, who performs as Harry, does very well with them. But it is genius (and, again, funny) to make them a little bit bland. They are clearly a long way from the “actual philosophical poetry” one fan claims them to be. Then, when the fans take them over, adapting them and weaving them into the wider score, they are improved!

The fans as a chorus are utilised a lot and sound great. They move brilliantly, too, with clever suggestions of awkwardness around sexual or violent movements that show the skills of choreographer Ebony Williams. The production’s strength is a credit to director Paige Rattray. There are strong parts for Edna’s friends played by Miracle Chance and Mary Malone, but smaller roles are also well realised with standout performances from Terique Jarrett and Gracie McGonigal. 

Final praise to Jasmine Elcock (a former talent-show competitor herself), who takes the lead role and is an excellent singer and actress with sure command of the show’s comedy and drama. Edna has a lot to learn and plenty of problems, so watching her struggle and grow is superb. And Elcock becomes a star along the way. What can say? I’m a fan.

Until 24 August 2024

www.lyric.co.uk

Photo by Manuel Harlan

Uncategorised

“Wormholes” at the Omnibus Theatre

This accomplished monologue is difficult to watch, but easy to admire. The only character who appears is so traumatised that she doesn’t know her own name. And the institutional therapy session we watch details domestic abuse towards a violent outcome. It’s tough stuff, brought painfully to life by the commitment and skill of its creative team.

Written by Emily Jupp, the script is taut and well-paced – director Scott Le Crass appreciates both strengths. We are given red flags about the relationship recounted. You might wonder that the danger isn’t too clear – for the audience, the trouble doesn’t seem as “incremental” as it is said to have been. And the humour sometimes falters – again, how deliberate is this? But the way Jupp takes time to show how troubled the character is provokes powerful emotion. The drama of events escalates carefully. It sounds odd to say, given the subject matter, but Wormholes is beautifully structured.

As you might expect from listening to a troubled mind, there are plenty of tangents. Some are blunt metaphors, but they help with the rhythm of the piece and raise questions. To what extent societal expectations shaped lives and events dominates. There’s a lot about anxiety, too, that aids an oppressive atmosphere – even if these trials of modern life are too commonplace. And for a monologue, this is a populous piece: friends, family and others in the play’s unspecified setting are all vivid. Each elicits examination from the audience as they relate to one or more of the people mentioned.

This is all strong, but none of it would work without an excellent performance from Victoria Yeates. Care is taken in establishing her character as a kind of everywoman, someone to relate to, appealing in her seeming honesty. When this mask slips, sometimes suddenly, it is very sad. Or, when Yeates speaks the words of her husband, it is scary. Showing a woman locked away is an old trope, but Wormholes allows this one to say a lot for herself. And there’s more. This is not just a mad woman but a mad mother. What happened to her son – what she has done – is not revealed. It’s another taboo, one Jupp leaves open, that makes her play fairly screech with tension.

Until 10 August 2024

www.omnibus-clapham.org

Photo by Rob Greig