All posts by Edward Lukes

“Steel Pier” at the Union Theatre

Well known for its excellent, ambitious productions of musicals, the Union Theatre’s latest offering is Kander and Ebb’s 1997 work Steel Pier. Directed by Paul Taylor-Mills, it’s a strange offering, superbly presented. Centring on a dance marathon in the 1930s, a group of semi-professional performers reveal their bitchy rivalry and needy posturing. The competition is a seedy affair, fixed, of course, that becomes increasingly humiliating and ends in medication for most participants. Our heroine Rita can only escape from it with the help of a very special, if unsuccessful, daredevil pilot.

Steel Pier is set on the fringes of celebrity but the cast at the Union Theatre is anything but mediocre. In the lead roles Sarah Galbraith and Jay Rincon, both visiting from the States, give fine performances. Singing unmiked, a real treat that makes the show worth seeing alone, they get the most out of songs that are a long way from Kander and Ebb’s finest. The excellent Aimie Atkinson has the show’s best number, ‘Everybody’s Girl’, and the best lines, managing to inject some much-needed humour. The large, hardworking cast is impressively marshalled by Taylor-Mills, and special note goes to Samuel Parker making a high-energy professional debut and Lisa-Anne Wood, who gives a spirited performance as the dancer most desperate to become a star.

Taylor-Mills combines the singing and dancing marvellously, making the most of Richard Jones’ excellent choreography. The show has such dazzle is almost manages to convince you this is a major work but, useful setting aside, the book by David Thompson, is lacking. The stakes played for – a moment in the spotlight or a chance of sponsorship – just aren’t high enough, and a supernatural twist, exploited well by Jones and musical director Angharad Sanders, adds little. Despite the best efforts of all involved, Steel Pier is something of a curio – essential for fans of musical theatre – but not stainless enough to appeal to everyone.

Until 24 November 2012

www.uniontheatre.biz

Photo by Claire Bilyard

Written 7 November 2012 for The London Magazine

“Victor/Victoria” at the Southwark Playhouse

Blake Edwards’ joyous, gender-bending musical comedy – with music and lyrics by Henry Mancini and Leslie Bricusse – is sure to please. The story of a soprano who disguises herself as a man performing in drag, Thom Southerland’s new production at the Southwark Playhouse, is a bold rendering full of expert touches and an abundance of talent.

Staged in traverse, and superbly designed by Martin Thomas, Southerland and his choreographer Lee Proud make the most of the show’s cabaret numbers. No tunnel under London Bridge ever looked this good; it’s a most welcoming cabaret, with a fantastic atmosphere from start to finish.

Taking the title role, Anna Francolini makes the most of this star vehicle and her performance has an emotional edge that is genuinely affecting. It helps that she sounds fantastic, too, and can deliver a tricky dance routine. The show stopping numbers, Le Jazz Hot! and Louis Says, are a  delight and the ensemble are superb.

Matthew Curtis plays her love interest who, Orsino-like, is puzzled by his desire for the ‘man’ he sees on stage. Curtis delivers his challenging solo number marvellously. But it’s Victor/Victoria’s impresario and best friend, performed by Richard Dempsey, who steals the show. Camp as Christmas and loving every gloriously silly moment, the incorrigible, Shakespeare-quoting, “Toddy” charms all and gets the loudest guffaw I’ve heard in the theatre this year. But, I won’t spoil the joke – buy a ticket to make sure you don’t miss it.

Until 15 December 2012

www.southwarkplayhouse.org

Written 2 November 2012 for The London Magazine

“NSFW” at the Royal Court

The name of Lucy Kirkwood’s new play for the Royal Court stands for ‘Not Safe For Work’. Set in the bitchy world of London media, it comes as no surprise that there’s little that’s safe in these particular offices. This sharp satire invites the theatre audience into an industry where employees will agree all too quickly to be humiliated, or compromise their private lives, in order to get ahead or simply stay in the job. To those who’ve never worked in magazine journalism it’s a delicious parody full of laughs; for those who have, it’s painfully close to the bone.

Kirkwood’s play has the benefit of skilful direction from Simon Godwin and superb performances. The magazine editor characters have something of the stereotype about them, but this potential problem is dealt with nimbly, thanks to sharp dialogue that means the play never strays into lazy parody. Julian Barratt and Janie Dee both excel as the “troglodyte” editor of a men’s magazine and the self-confessed “Menopausal old hag” who works for an over-sharing womens title, respectively. The younger characters, desperate for work and predictably overqualified, are wonderfully drawn: Henry Lloyd-Hughes gives a great comic turn as the trustafarian drawn to journalism, Esther Smith expertly judges her role as a young feminist so ashamed of her job she tells people she’s an estate agent, and Sacha Dhawan gives a performance of great charm as an idealist who finds that, in this job, he can’t avoid getting his hands mucky.

Of course, nobody finds the media as interesting as the industry finds itself. Thankfully, Kirkwood’s play uses magazine culture to address broader social concerns. The presentation of women in the media, in particular, is handled in nuanced, thought-provoking style here. While the plight of the younger characters, with whom the play’s sympathies so firmly lie, gives a dark edge and subtlety and balances NSFW’s exquisite portrayal of the excesses of journalism.

Until 24 November 2012

www.royalcourttheatre.com

Written 1 November 2012 for The London Magazine

“Red Velvet” at the Tricycle Theatre

Lolita Chakrabarti’s new play at the Tricycle Theatre, Red Velvet, tells the story of the African American actor Ira Aldridge. You might not have heard of him, but his fame in the 19th century led to tours all over Europe, and his presence on the London stage was part of a watershed in theatre history. Aldridge’s career is a potent tale of racism and personal struggle, destined to make great drama: Chakrabarti’s play is fortunate to receive a fine production, superbly performed, which makes the most of it.

The play itself isn’t quite as challenging as might be hoped – at times, Chakrabarti seems intimidated by her subject – but it is well written and entertaining. The secondary characters (other actors and a young journalist hoping for a scoop) aren’t fleshed out enough, but the acting is superb. There are some gem-like performances, especially from Ryan Kiggell, who gets some big laughs, and the hard working Rachel Finnegan, who takes on the challenge of no fewer than three roles.

Just as Aldridge’s arrival on the London stage raises the game amongst the actors he works with, the cast seem inspired by the excellent Adrian Lester who takes on the lead role. Lester makes it easy to believe Aldridge was a sensation. His performance is commanding, his voice intoxicating and he is an actor of great intelligence who keeps you totally engaged. The transformations as he adopts a role, or changes age, are truly remarkable.

Red Velvet is the first play from the Tricycle’s new artistic director, Indhu Rubasingham – it’s a great start. Her direction is clear and particularly impressive when approaching scenes that feature a 19th century style of acting. It’s an appropriate touch to have the cast remain on stage throughout, drawn into the action just like the audience, and the play’s moving, shocking finale is handled with masterful subtlety.

Until 24 November 2012

www.tricycle.co.uk

Photo by Tristram Kenton

Written 19 October 2012 for The London Magazine

“Loserville” at the Garrick Theatre

A new musical is an exciting prospect for the critics: the thrill of the potential next hit or the perverse pleasure of a failure. Most shows, and Loserville, the newest to open in the West End only last night, fall firmly between the two extremes. The question is whether or not you should bother to see it – and my answer is yes, especially if you have someone young to take along.

Loserville is a coming-of-age story and, like many in the genre, is probably best embraced by those still young. It is set around the idea of the first ever email and presented to the audience as if they can’t really imagine there was ever a world without the web. The ‘geeks in their garage’ characters have the laudable aim of helping the world to communicate, and the mildest of reservations about corporate capitalism. It’s all very wholesome fun.

A joint effort from Elliot Davis and James Bourne, the later formerly of Busted fame, it’s spot on when it comes to a familiar kind of teenage angst. The insecurity, frustration, even anger of young people, along with their sense of fun and excitement, is palpable. All expressed in perky guitar pop, highly catchy and impressively effective as storytelling, it should be a hit.

The kids coming of age in Loserville do so in America in 1971. This poses some problems – the cast struggle with their accents, especially when it comes to singing them. There’s little sense of period, only the briefest musical reference, and any sense of nostalgia fails to convince. The dialogue lacks snap and the jokes aren’t funny enough: it’s passable to rhyme Uhura with cooler in song, but the sci-fi gags are overplayed in the script. However, the production itself is well done, directed with clarity and conviction by Steven Dexter, and aided by Francis O’Connor’s charming low-fi set.

And none of these criticisms are going to stop you having fun. The story of Michael Dork and his friends’ trials and passions goes at such a pace, any subtlety would probably be steamrollered anyway. The large cast, mostly making their West End debuts, are so full of energy, you can’t help but admire them. Highlights include Aaron Sidwell in the lead role and Richard Lowe as his sidekick Lucas Lloyd.

Alongside their enthusiasm, that sense of teenage intensity means the cast occasionally perform with almost embarrassing sincerity – once again your reaction probably depends upon your age. Bourne knows what he’s doing, he’s sold enough records to teenagers already, but shame on my cynicism – like Google, Loserville doesn’t have an evil bone in its body, and is sure to be a winner with plenty.

Until 2 March 2013

Photo by Tristram Kenton

Written 18 October 2012 for The London Magazine

“Damned by Despair” at the National Theatre

In case it doesn’t become apparent, Tirso de Molina’s Damned by Despair is a theological exploration of salvation. It parallels two protagonists – a vile criminal who enters heaven because of his faith and a pious hermit who is guilty of pride, then despair, and ends up in hell. In the hands of director Bijan Sheibani, it’s hard to imagine who on earth would find this interesting, but on the off chance that you have a passion for counter-reformation theology, be warned – stay at home and read your catechism, as this production is truly awful.

The first flaw is Frank McGuinness’ adaptation: full of bizarre anachronisms that prevent it sounding modern but isolate the play from its historical context, it is jarring to the point of distraction. While Tirso’s play is predictable throughout – it has to be to prove its point –what’s remarkable is Sheibani’s inability to add any drama. There’s plenty of running around in circles and shouting, and lots of violence, but no tension at all. Even worse, both the text and production rob the play of any complexity.

What adds to one’s annoyance, and surprises for the National Theatre, particularly given this cast, is that not even the performances can be praised. Only Amanda Lawrence, who plays Satan, really holds the stage, despite this being a play where the devil doesn’t get the best lines. Rory Keenan gets a few laughs as the Monk Paulo’s devoted servant but, along with the immensely talented Bertie Carvel, seems woefully miscast. The ensemble in particular, who take on the role of various criminals and the police, couldn’t be less threatening if they tried. This dire production limps from failure to failure, damned by despair indeed.

Until 17 December 2012

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photo by Brinkhoff/Moegenburg

Written 15 October 2012 for The London Magazine

“The Hotel Plays” at the Grange Holborn Hotel

Tennessee Williams spent so much of his later life living in and writing about hotels that staging his plays in one seems so obvious, so very neat, that it’s instantly appealing. Site-specific theatre has to be special stuff to excite, and this thrilling trilogy of short works does just that at the Grange Holborn Hotel.

The Hotel PlaysGreen Eyes, The Travelling Companion and Sunburst – afford glimpses into tawdry, lonely lives: a young couple arguing on their honeymoon, an ageing homosexual writer with his unwilling escort, and an elderly lady held hostage in her room by staff turned ineffectual thieves. Being late works by Williams, they are peopled by extreme characters and bold to the point of being blunt.

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Clare Latham and Matt Milne

These are difficult roles to pull off (and unfortunately the accents prove too much of a challenge) but all the cast manage to establish their characters with commendable speed. John Guerrasio does particularly well as what is surely a merciless self-portrait by Williams – a “much too much” homosexual writer with a camp performance that has an eye on the stereotype the author must have seen himself becoming. His co-star, Laurence Dobiesz, also impresses as a fragile hustler who becomes intoxicated during the short duration of the play. But the best and bravest performances come in the first work, with Clare Latham and Matt Milne playing newlyweds acting out trauma with a sado-masochistic twist.

The Grange Holborn Hotel may not be the most charismatic property, but all credit to its farsighted management for cooperating with the Defibrillator Theatre Company. Staging the plays in the hotel adds immeasurably to them. Performed in rotation, you can hear the arguments from one as you sit in the room above watching another, with careful supervision from a trio of directors (James Hillier, Anthony Banks and Robert Hastie) who embrace the claustrophobia of the setting. This evening of morbidly powerful vignettes is captivating theatre – incredibly intimate and excruciatingly voyeuristic.

Until 27 October 2012

Photo by Simon Annand

Written 9 October 2012 for The London Magazine

“The Second Mrs Tanqueray” at the Rose Theatre Kingston

Stephen Unwin’s production of Arthur Wing Pinero’s 1893 play, at the Rose Theatre in Kingston, is a quality affair. A version of the ‘fallen woman’ tale so beloved of Victorians, this tragic story of a marriage that attempts to defy conventions is satisfyingly constructed and superbly performed. Aubrey Tanqueray’s decision to wed a woman with a past – motivated mainly by ideals and partly by pomposity – is doomed from the start (beware any plan that means moving from St James to Surrey), and the object of his devotion, Paula, doesn’t help. Understandably, she really isn’t keen on the move.

James Wilby is perfect as a defiant, blustering Aubrey. Laura Michelle Kelly takes on the title role with skill and style. Director Unwin has described her part as an English Hedda Gabler but it’s hard to see her character as that complex. Victorian melodrama can be a tricky thing. There’s the appeal of a period piece, of course, but any moral problems raised will never engage us as they would have Pinero’s contemporaries. The danger is that the drama becomes a comedy and that problem is not entirely avoided by Unwin’s direction.

That said, the humour that comes from the supporting cast is first class. Joseph Alessi deals with Pinero’s sophisticated dialogue superbly as Aubrey’s larger-than-life bachelor friend Cayley Drummle. And there is a fine performance from Sally Tatum as a deliciously rapacious former actress with slippery RP who has married into the upper classes. All great fun, but it detracts from the unsettling drama within the piece. The Second Mrs Tanqueray sets up a moral maze that seems remote, at best a curiosity. Thankfully the strength of Wilby and Kelly’s performances stops it all from striking you as just silly. Most of the time.

Until 27 October 2012

www.rosetheatrekingston.org

Photo by Simon Annand

Written 8 October 2012 for The London Magazine

“Our Boys” at the Duchess Theatre

Jonathan Lewis’s Our Boys is nearly 20 years old – but it’s aging very well indeed. Set in a military hospital, and based on the author’s own experiences as a Potential Officer, it’s a rites-of-passage drama about young soldiers recovering from serious trauma. Our Boys is a well-crafted and traditional affair of simple, effective story telling.

A performer himself, Lewis has created the kind of roles that actors love since each character develops almost on cue. We know that these young men will bare their souls, but with each revelation the play gains in power. Lewis never slips into patronising his creations, while director David Grindley has marshalled his impressive cast into a believable cohort.

Lewis Reeves has to be singled out. As the most physically injured solider, his painful route to recovery is deeply moving and wonderfully performed. Jolyon Coy plays P.O. Menzies who shares the ward with the men he may one day command, with sensitive conviction. Laurence Fox gives a tremendous performance as Joe, a natural leader who delivers the most dramatic, genuinely shocking scene with steely skill.

The earthy humour of the piece may wear thin, but Lewis uses it to bond the play and it’s delivered well enough. Our Boys isn’t free of cliché but, after all, our insecurities are pretty universal and seeing them in these young men under pressure has tremendous power. The disastrous drinking game they play shows the best and the worst of characters we have learnt to care for: they really have become Our Boys, a fact that shows the strength of the play and the performances.

Until 15 December 2012

Photo by Geraint Lewis

Written 4 October 2012 for The London Magazine

“Charley’s Aunt” at the Menier Chocolate Factory

Brandon Thomas’ legendary farce has enjoyed an illustrious history since its 1892 premiere, and a host of stars have donned drag as Lord Fancourt Babberley, who masquerades as a chaperone for his university friends Charley and Jack. Ian Talbot’s new production at the Menier Chocolate Factory uses the piece’s period and nostalgic appeal to delight the audience. It’s a “clinking good idea” that results in an evening both gentle and civilised.

In the title role, Mathew Horne gives an accomplished performance marked by surprising restraint. He never flags, but in trying to show the lovesick emotions underneath the antimacassar he’s using as a shawl, the comedy fails to fly. It doesn’t help that the show has two intervals. We get some fantastic sets from designer Paul Farnsworth, but taking time out for big breathers during a farce isn’t a good idea. There’s plenty of fun when Charley’s ‘aunt’ is chased around the college quad or a piano, but the real strength of the night is that the whole ensemble has its share in the spotlight, making Talbot’s production pleasingly balanced.

Dominic Tighe and Benjamin Askew both excel as Babberley’s fellow students Jack and Charley, and all the love interests (Leah Whitaker, Ellie Beaven and Charlie Clemmow) do well with frankly clunky roles, getting the laughs out of all those stiff upper lips. Steven Pacey works marvels as Jack’s father with some great comic touches and Jane Asher, who plays Charley’s real aunt, will leave everyone with the words “she’s wasted in the part” on their lips. Their performances all show a consummate skill that’s fitting for Talbot’s respectful revival.

Until 10 November 2012

www.menierchocolatefactory.com

Photo by Catherine Ashmore

Written 2 October 2012 for The London Magazine