All posts by Edward Lukes

2025

“The Producers” at the Garrick Theatre

This first major London revival of Mel Brooks’ hit musical is a blast. The story of theatre financiers who stage a flop to make money contains its own critique. The show is both clever and crass. And – like the reviewers of the musical-within-the-musical – I loved it.

The Producers is, genuinely, laugh a minute. Of course, with most of the jokes based on accents, stereotypes and sexual innuendo not all of them land. But if many of the punchlines are so old you can see – or should that be smell? – them coming, that doesn’t stop them from being funny. 

With its Broadway premiere back in 2001, based on a film from the late Sixties, there might be some caution about how the show has aged (especially gags about the casting couch). Not to forget that in-jokes about musical theatre require some knowledge. But the strategy of offending everyone – as an excuse – is tried and tested. 

The sheer quantity of gags is the key. The audience doesn’t get a break or stand a chance. You will laugh – that’s an order.

At full speed from the start, the show is a demanding one for its cast, some of whom did appear a little breathless on the press night. But all the performances are strong and the leads – Andy Nyman and Marc Antolin, as Bialystock and Bloom respectively – are superb. Their physical comedy is top-notch and I lost count of how many silly accents they use. Joanna Woodward stands up to them in fine style as the “Svedish” secretary/star Ulla, while Harry Morrison’s all-out performance as Hitler’s former valet turned playwright is tremendous. Everyone gets the most out of Brooks’ serviceable music and lyrics for the show, always emphasising the comedy.

It is easy to see that the production started in a smaller venue (the excellent Menier Chocolate Factory). While Scott Pask’s set is impressive, in the Garrick it feels a little shrunk and a few laughs might be lost to those in the Gods. But you can enjoy how settled the cast are. Having a long run before the transfer means their teamwork is superb and gives the sense that they’re also enjoying the show.

Springtime for Hitler, the production Bialystock and Bloom hope will bomb, is always going to be the highlight. Lorin Latarro’s choreography comes into its own here and the segment is a hoot. But director Patrick Marber also pays attention to the underlying theme of friendship between the colleagues that simmers in the background and gets some surprisingly moving moments as a result. Nyman and Antolin’s strengths show again. 

Nobody doubts for a moment how silly this whole thing is. But Marber and Brooks know a touch of sentiment in a musical goes down well and they provide it. The show gives us everything. No wonder it’s a hit.

Until 21 February 2025

www.theproducersmusical.com

Photo by Manuel Harlan

2025

“The Pitchfork Disney” at the King’s Head Theatre

Let’s celebrate that Lidless Theatre, which had great success with Philip Ridley’s Leaves of Glass last year, provides the chance to see this 1991 work from the incomparable playwright. The early piece is far from his best work. But Ridley’s writing is so exciting that this story of an encounter between troubled siblings and an odd duo who give the play its title is wild, unforgettable, theatre.

The start is strong. Performed expertly by Ned Costello and Elizabeth Connick, Presley and Haley are twin siblings who are heavily medicated and living as hermits, their lives shaped by routine and fantasy. They repeat and invent stories that defy logic and, like their characters, are full of ambiguity and emotion.

The chance arrival of Cosmo Disney and his sidekick Pitchfork (who is tricky to discuss without spoilers) upsets the scenario less than might be expected – they are an even stranger pair. Pitchfork, played by William Robinson, is a compelling (and dangerous) figure who invokes repulsion rather than magic or charisma. There’s a wonderful variety of abjection, but it is all down to earth.

This is a valid interpretation. Horror is the key and, of course, there is banality in evil. But arguably, director Max Harrison embraces the play’s controversial reputation too forcefully. Discomfort and shock are only part of the play. The stories recounted should – sometimes – offer succour. Disney’s bleak view of human nature might , if not oppose, contrast with the siblings.

A similar position is taken with the tricky comedy in the play. With Ridley, laughs are always barbed – it’s deliberate that not everyone in the audience joins in – but here they are also broad. Too much deadpan delivery is a mistake, and it blunts the script.

Both reservations are subjective. Harrison has his ideas for the play and, if questionable, that vision is consistent, considered and thorough. The performances are committed and the delivery technically accomplished. But I think there’s something missing – a conflict between stories that structure and those that shock. Disney and Pitchfork are showmen and of the moment. The twin’s tales are private and endure. And at least one thing Ridley is asking is which kind of story is more frightening.

Until 4 October 2025

www.kingsheadtheatre.com

Photos by Charles Flint

2025

“Born With Teeth” at Wyndham’s Theatre

From Shakespeare in Love to Anthony Burgess’ excellent novel, A Dead Man in Deptford, William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe make good source material. Playwright Liz Duffy Adams recognises the potential and puts them head to head in a fast, clever piece. If you like your history explored and exploded, this one is for you.

Quite rightly, Duffy Adams isn’t afraid to take liberties with facts (indeed, she points out that both Shakespeare and Marlowe did the same thing). She uses our lack of true knowledge about their lives wisely… they may indeed have worked together on the Henry VI plays, been gay, Catholic or, well, make your own case. And our prejudices about the men are exploited to great effect, with ideas about the brilliant but dangerous spy and occultist Marlowe contrasted with the Bard, who is mysterious or… just a bit boring? The contrast is funny and layers the show with éclat.

Such reputations are overplayed at times – fine for Marlowe but a little tiresome when it comes to Shakespeare. But Duffy Adams goes all in. The dialogue is bracing, with effective deadpan delivery, and a lot of it is rude! There’s a neat balance of period feel and references to the men’s work that, while plentiful, are not overwrought. Director Daniel Evans and designer Joanna Scotcher follow the text’s lead in being a little, shall we say, big. There are bold videos and loud music to introduce scenes. 

Performances are appropriately energetic (especially considering this is two men talking in a room) and downright sexy. The pace is embraced by both performers – Edward Bluemel and Ncuti Gatwa – who will, for many, be the production’s highlight.

Gatwa brings his usual charm to Marlowe, is fantastic with the show’s comedy and provides a passable air of danger. He is excellent when it comes to ego and Marlowe’s is presented as huge. There’s no doubting the stage presence – and how he works his extravagant quill is a sight to behold. As Shakespeare, Bluemel has the tougher task of suggesting depth and intrigue at first and then growing his role. He gets more time with us to try to make sure this works. Shakespeare introduces the scenes and keeps the theme of trust, in art and life, vivid. 

A balance of sympathy, rivalry and attraction between the two men drives the show. But the action is small. For all the talk of espionage, a spy story this is not. The vague idea of having powerful friends and then having to betray people (for why?) doesn’t get going.

Because, as you’d expect, there’s more going on than speculation about two historical figures. Born With Teeth tries to show us two ways to live, two views of the world. There’s plenty of discussion about the men’s philosophies. But it’s heavy-handed and lacks clarity. Marlowe is Machiavellian and strangely resigned to his fate – much more is needed here. Shakespeare ends up an Enlightenment figure, precociously aware of literary theory. It’s interesting, if rushed. And if it’s not altogether convincing, it’s always entertaining.

Until 1 November 2025

www.rsc.org.uk

Photos Johan Persson

2025

“Interview” at the Riverside Studios

Teunkie Van Der Sluijs’ idea of adapting Theo van Gogh’s 2003 film for the stage isn’t a bad one. Taking us behind the scenes of a celebrity interview has the scope for a tight head-to-head piece. Regrettably, the potential isn’t realised here. Updating the scenario to include the internet is poorly handled – it isn’t clear when the play is actually set – and the show ends up a long 90 minutes that tells us little.

The tension between serious journalist Pierre and influencer-turned-actor Katya just isn’t as strong or as interesting as it needs to be. The performers, Robert Sean Leonard and Paten Hughes, work hard. While Pierre seems ridiculously naïve, he has a traumatic back story that Leonard does well with. Poor Hughes has a tougher job, as her character’s intelligence and duplicity are supposed to, somehow, surprise us. But apart from this, there really isn’t enough to separate these two self-obsessed compulsive liars to create any sense of conflict.

Van Der Sluijs’ direction gives too much time to what little action there is and the players are somewhat swamped by the lavish Brooklyn apartment set. But there are no complaints about the production, which looks and sounds good, with an atmospheric score from Ata Güner. The video work, including live recording, is also good and incorporated very well. But – and it’s nobody’s fault here – there’s just too much of this sort of thing around right now.

Problems continue with the script’s poor humour and the odd chemistry between the characters. Some of this might interest – there are some fine #MeToo moments – but the observations and the jokes, like the opinions and a lot of the plot, are exactly what we’d expect and they feel dated. The whole idea of Katya turning the tables – and a poor final twist – are predictable. Some of this is deliberate, playing on expectations, but does an audience in 2025 really think that a social media star is stupid? Or that a journalist has integrity?

Interview wants to say lot to say about truth – online, in the news, surrounding celebrity – and how this triad relates. You might side with Pierre or see Katya’s POV. Maybe who you prefer depends on who you deem to be less irrelevant. But I’m afraid you won’t hear anything that you haven’t heard before and there’s little challenge or excitement. Maybe that’s a reflection on our times. But all we have here is battle of wits between two narcissists, neither of whom are as clever as they think they are.

Until 27 September 2025

www.interviewplayonstage.com

Photos by Helen Murray

2025

“Juniper Blood” at the Donmar Warehouse

Mike Bartlett is in a very serious mood with his latest play. Using close observations and cold wit to look at the effects of climate change on one family ensures the work, skilfully directed by James Macdonald, wins respect. But it is familiar ground, and a harsh edge makes it hard work.

‘Climate grief’ is the issue, although I’ll admit the term is a struggle. The idea is that things are so bad that we’re all in mourning for the planet. Hope is the keyword – not just a lack of it but whether it is even possible anymore. And yes, that is as grim as it sounds, even if Bartlett adds a few good gags along the way.

Whether or not to bring a child into the world was a concern for Bartlett way back in Earthquakes in London. And it’s not as if things have got better. But too much of the argument is the same. It’s impressively intense and undoubtedly important but ultimately repetitious. We start on a family farm, a kind of spin on The Good Life, with fascinating research about agriculture thrown in. But as any kind of compromise is rejected, environmentalism becomes radical and intersects with mental health.

The generational conflict in the play is solid, although Bartlett does better with the older figures. And privilege is something explored well enough. Although it’s hard to like anyone on stage – and credulity is pushed too far – the characters are all entertaining and the kind of roles actors revel in.

Although arguing about who is the key character would be part of the fun, I’m going for Lip, ironically named for his taciturnity. Sam Troughton is fantastic in the part, bringing essential underlying charisma. Lip isn’t an idiot: worrying about an existential crisis is sensible! But his partner, another strong role brilliantly performed by Hattie Morahan, is torn when she becomes pregnant. Other characters, a younger couple and a neighbour, are all filled out, with credit to Terique Jarrett, Nadia Parkes and Jonathan Slinger. The personal stories and perspectives interest, amuse and irritate in equal measure.

Good intentions run through the play and considerably help to make some silly bits credible. Opposing views allow scope in argument although, as with some of the characters, a lot doesn’t quite convince. For all the skill here, the result is strangely formal, tired and a little lost. Given the state and scale of the problems highlighted, maybe that’s understandable.

Until 4 October 2025

www.donmarwarehouse.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

2025

“Goodnight, Oscar” at the Barbican Theatre

There’s a danger of damning Doug Wright’s Broadway hit with faint praise. The writing is sound, the direction from Lisa Peterson solid. There are plenty of interesting themes surrounding the story of a virtuoso pianist suffering from poor mental health that make the show an excellent vehicle for its star, Sean Hayes, who is aided by a strong supporting cast. It looks good, too, with the 1950s setting made stylish in Rachel Hauck’s set and Emilio Sosa’s costumes. There’s next to nothing to complain about.

Oscar Levant, billed as one of the 20th century’s greatest wits, followed his successful musical career as a TV personality who was infamous for his openness about his health. The play pairs him with Jack Paar, said to have invented late-night television with Tonight, and imagines one episode with Levant sneaking out of a mental hospital to appear on the show. It’s a good story that Wright gets a lot out of, and Peterson paces the script superbly.

The blend of comedy and tragedy is handled well. Levant is funny, but his condition is a concern. Blessed (or should that be cursed?) with prodigious self-awareness, he needs to perform. Fascinated TV executives and viewers both condemn and exploit him. 

The role’s attraction for Hayes is clear, and he is, indeed, a revelation. That’s not so hard, since most Londoners will only know him as Jack from early Noughties sitcom Will & Grace. But he gets a standing ovation presenting a very different and complex man. Strong support from Rosalie Craig as his wife helps, despite her role, like too many others, being underwritten. Craig is excellent at showing a cool compassion that carries the action. Yet Hayes can’t help but steal the show. Yes, he is good with the comedy, but he is moving as well, managing to make us feel for Levant without patronising him. The piano playing is especially impressive and a great theatrical moment. Not only does Hayes give a great rendition of Rhapsody in Blue, but he acts while he is doing it.

Given Levant’s tortured relationship with Gershwin, who appears as an hallucination (performed by David Burnett), the influence of Peter Schaffer’s masterpiece is clear. But this is Amadeus with addiction issues, an addition that is interesting and convincing.

Another side of the story, Levant’s involvement with TV, might present more of a struggle for a home crowd. The late-night chat show isn’t as much of an institution here. While Ben Rappaport gives a layered performance as Paar, the excellent Richard Katz doesn’t have enough to do as a TV executive and Eric Sirakian’s role as a show runner is a weak comic foil. But even here, Peterson manages to convey the bustle of live TV, while questions around the nature of celebrity are clear and thought-provoking. If the play isn’t particularly adventurous, it is admirably thorough and conscientious. There really is a lot to praise.

Until 21 September 2025

www.goodnightoscar.com

Photos by Johan Persson

2025

“Titanique” at the Criterion Theatre

Tye Blue, Marla Mindelle and Constantine Rousouli’s hit show has a new cast. With Olivier Awards on board and booking until January, any scepticism about a show that sends up Celine Dion and the movie Titanic should be swiftly sunk. And, anyway, if you scoff at silliness, this one isn’t really for you – Titanique is one of the most absurd things you can see, and very funny indeed.

Presenting two stories of what happened on board the doomed ocean liner, including reenacting the romance between Jack and Rose from the film, all with songs by Dion is, frankly, a lot. There’s so much scope for jokes that it all feels, er, a little choppy. Blue’s direction enhances the energy and more gags are added that are sometimes tasteless and often rude, encompassing news events, pop culture and, for this UK version of the Broadway show, quite a lot of EastEnders. While some jokes are so old they hum, the sense of surprise is great, with moments where you check yourself at how mad it all is. 

This much foolishness is actually hard work. The musical adaptation of Dion’s hits, by Nicholas James Connell, is smart. And the strong cast makes light work of a demanding routine. While Luke Bayer and Hiba Elchikhe, as Jack and Rose, feature heavily, all get plenty of moments to (over)act including Tosh Wanogho-Maud as a seaman (yes) and Tina Turner-as-an-iceberg (there’s hyphenation I never thought I’d need). Surely, it’s hard to sound this good with your tongue so firmly in your cheek? Let alone all the eyerolls and Ellenore Scott’s choreography. 

The show is buoyed by the performance of Astrid Harris as Dion herself. An exaggeration as much as an impression, she gets laughs at every moment. And the show is neatly coy about Dion’s appeal – she’s made fun of, sometimes a little cruelly. But the acerbic propels the show. And such humour is leaned into by Carl Mullaney, who plays Rose’s mother with a fantastic rant and highly effective slips into a British accent. A lot of Titanique is reminiscent of a (very good) drag act – there are enough references to RuPaul, after all – giving it a neat niche that should keep it afloat for a long time.

Until January 2026

www.london.titaniquemusical.com

Photo by Mark Senior

2025

“Brigadoon” at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

“Brigadoon” at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Lerner and Loewe’s show is the kind that people who don’t care for musicals dislike. From the Golden Age of the genre, even with adaptation by playwright Rona Munro, it feels old-fashioned. There are people bursting into song and dance, of course, and all in a mystical village that only appears every century. And there’s little plot to the tear-jerking romance. But director Drew McOnie leans into the hopeless romanticism with abandon. This rare revival is a quality one.

Even if you can let the twee setting – that Munro tries to make interesting – go, the characters are a struggle. It’s hard to claim anyone in the story has depth. But the cast sound good (if a little too keen to bring out accents) and give it their all. The humour is so dated it is dire. The role of Meg shows the problem, despite a spirited performance from Nic Myers, with her flirtation coming across as unhinged.

You’d have a hard heart, though, not to be swayed by the pairs of lovers on offer. Louis Gaunt portrays GI Tommy with suitable machismo. Opposite him, Georgina Onuorah makes Flora (a role she will alternate with Danielle Fiamanya during the run) falling in love at first sight convincing. The chemistry is great. As the younger couple, Charlie and Jean, Gilli Jones and Jasmine Jules Andrews hold their own and it’s all very sweet. Both are exciting performers, the former making a tremendous professional debut.

Cavan Clarke at GI Jeff in Brigadoon
Cavan Clarke

To be fair to Lerner’s book, and Munro’s updating, there’s a lot of love lost in the show, including a tragic ending. It’s a shame this disappointment doesn’t make it more moving. Still, there’s a stronger than most role for Cavan Clarke, as the more cynical GI Jeff. And the lovelorn Harry means that Danny Nattrass can shine. Both could be viewed as villains – it is creditable that this doesn’t happen.

The songs are lovely, if also old-fashioned. The lyrics take a back seat. Musical director Laura Bangay ensures a big sound (well done on the bagpipes and drums). As Nattrass illustrates, the strongest part of the production is the choreography. Given the show’s original date, the amount of dancing isn’t a surprise and, of course, this is McOnie’s forte. 

Chrissie Brooke in Brigadoon at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre
Chrissie Brooke

On a surprisingly constrained stage (Basia Bińkowska’s set has ramps, used to great effect) wonders are worked. And lyrical gestures look stylish, aided by Sami Fendall’s costumes. But scenes of violence are even more impressive. Harry breaking up a wedding, the chase scene and a Ghillie Callum (I looked that one up) are all superb. And time is taken over subsequent grief – praise for Chrissy Brooke here.

There are breathtaking moments, although probably not enough to make any converts, but Brigadoon is certainly worth a visit.

Until 20 September 2025

www.openairtheatre.com

Photos by Mark Senior

2025

“A Man For All Seasons” at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Casting Martin Shaw as Thomas More for this revival of Robert Bolt’s play is a sound move. As the lawyer-turned-politician, struggling against Henry VIII’s Reformation, the character possesses personal conviction and precise argument. Shaw can deliver both integrity and clarity very well, aided by great stage presence. And he brings a sense of the outsider, with a wry eye and cool common sense, that is perfect for the role.

Famous faces from the Tudor court are present, with a large, competent, supporting cast. I liked Orlando James’ brief appearance as Henry VIII; a figure to fear making fun of. And Edward Bennett’s Thomas Cromwell has a mix of cynical humour and, again, fear, that adds to the role. 

With Jonathan Church’s smooth direction, and a stylish set from Simon Higlett, the production is a quality affair. But Bolt’s 1960 script hasn’t aged well, and cracks show. 

Most of More’s family fail to rise above being foils for the great man. It’s understandable, as there’s a lot of exposition and explanation to get through. More’s recalcitrance is a puzzle for most of us; what does he achieve from his silence? Wife, daughter and son-in-law are only there to put forward different arguments. At least they convince with regards to the affection among the family.

The role of the ‘Common Man’, arguably innovative in Bolt’s time, proves a further problem. While Gary Wilmot has a good go at the role, injecting plenty of energy, the jokes are poor and the insights weak. And is the play’s baddie, the dastardly Richard Rich, who Calum Finlay does well with, too bland?

Rewriting history isn’t new. More participated himself, with regards to Richard III, as Josephine Tey’s detective in The Daughter of Time points out. It’s often fun and right now its trendy. But this effort to look at the past feels old-fashioned itself. Bolt’s efforts are sensible and considered but also dry. And he comes too close to canonising More a second time. We may admire the saintly sangfroid, but it doesn’t add tension. The history lacks bite – it’s too calm. Which you might respect but ends up surprisingly lacking in drama.

Until 6 September 2025

https://www.haroldpintertheatre.co.uk

Photo by Simon Annand

2025

“Lost Watches” at the Park Theatre

There are plenty of ideas and nice touches of absurdity in Lorenzo Allchurch’s new play. Overall, both cast and crew have bitten off more than they can chew – there are too many scenes that need to be expanded or abandoned, too many themes thrown in and not elaborated. But if the play seems a little lost at times, it is one that wins for its efforts and a production I felt warm towards.

Our hero, Allen, is in mourning for his mother. Allchurch, who takes the part, doesn’t ground his play enough in this grief nor, despite his appealing stage presence, establish the central character sufficiently. Allen’s family relationships are complicated (and dramatically interesting) but we only get to see his brother and father briefly, and that they are both played by Gabriella Moran does not help. It’s all directed just a little too fast by Alex Helfrecht.

The play’s crazy twist is good, though. Allen’s mother was a sculptor, her favourite piece a portrait of Beat icon William S Burroughs. And the artwork, voiced by Jason Isaacs, starts to talk! Allchurch pulls off the tricky interaction with a recording very well. Borough’s sense of mischief and anarchy is convincing, though I wonder if it could have been taken further, made darker? Exactly how much of his sanity Allen has lost is left nicely open.

Lost-Watches-at-the-Park-Theatre
Lorenzo Allchurch and Leah Aspden

Moran, who is a busy woman, also appears as the mother, a stronger role with a nice line in enigmatic and glitter in her pockets that proves effective. And there’s a neat comic part for Leah Aspden as a policewoman who meets, but doesn’t quite help, our hero. It’s too easy to speculate that the show might have focused on this duo more – suggesting Alan’s past and, perhaps, his future.

Not everything needs to be tied down, but it is annoying that so little is made of the watch that gives the play its title. It’s another loose end that leaves a sense of having missed something. Lost Watches aims at balancing a sense of magic with the absurd. It’s a task that’s harder than it sounds and, regrettably, not accomplished despite moments of potential along the way.

Until 23 August 2025

www.parktheatre.co.uk

Photos by Mark Senior