Tag Archives: Lloyd Hutchinson

“Sing Street” at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre

21 July 2025 Edward Lukes

Given the pedigree behind this new musical, the result is, regrettably, disappointing. The idea isn’t a bad one. As with the smash hit show Once, it is based on a film by John Carney and the book is by Enda Walsh. Schoolboy Conor forming a band to impress a girl provides a sweet enough coming-of-age story with plenty of 1980s pop music that introduces new songs and has nostalgic appeal. But the show is slow, and director Rebecca Taichman does the energy on stage a disservice.

The new songs, by Carney with Gary Clark, are good and the format brings some coherence. Indeed, favourable comparisons can be made with ones from the period, which are interspersed in a tiresome fashion that slows down the action. Maybe some of the best sound a little like those from Once with the same sincere lyrics and homespun wisdom, but that’s OK. The bold move of making the schoolboy band’s first effort deliberately poor – and plenty of appealing humour (the influence of The Cure is very funny) – is all winning.

The romance between the lead singer Conor and his muse, Raphina, is good. Performed by Sheridan Townsley and Grace Collender with a sense of excitement, they both bring charm and energy using Bob Crowley’s minimal set well. Townsley and Collender sound like stars already and it’s impossible not to wish them the best. So, why my reservations about the show as a whole?

Sing-Street-Lyric-Hammersmith-Adam-Hunter-credit-Manuel-Harlan — Adam Hunter

There are big problems for the rest of the cast. The other schoolboys don’t stand out – a pity as that clearly wasn’t the intention and a shame as there’s plenty of talent (note Jack James Ryan’s bully Barry). Even worse, Conor’s parents, who are divorcing, his agoraphobic brother and under-pressure sister are too easy to forget and hard to care about. And it isn’t for lack of time spent on the additional storylines, which are drawn out. Brother Brendan’s song is a tiresome case in point, despite a powerful effort from Adam Hunter in delivering it.

The time spent away from the kids’ story gets messy, culminating in another brother, Brother Baxter, Conor’s school teacher at his religious school. Lloyd Hutchinson, who takes the part, must shoulder any resentment towards the Catholic Church solo. And, not surprisingly, it’s too much for one man. The effort to make his character complicated is so tokenistic that it is close to insulting.

Staying close to the original film is important in a project like this – it’s what a lot of the audience wants. And plenty of the movie’s charm is preserved through the sounds and the central characters. But the result here is bloated and delivers far less than the considerable effort on offer might have produced.

Until 23 August 2025

www.lyric.co.uk

Photos by Manuel Harlan

2018

“Absolute Hell” at the National Theatre

29 April 2018 Edward Lukes

It’s a brave actress who takes on a role made famous by Judi Dench but as Christine, the alcoholic autophobic landlady of Rodney Ackland’s play, Kate Fleetwood brings her usual consummate skill to the job. Like her club, which remained open throughout the Blitz, Christine is falling apart just as World War II ends and most people are starting life again. Acclaim should be shared with Charles Edwards as Hugh, a too-regular-regular and once promising author who remains sympathetic despite his scrounging and whining. The couple’s love lives and drunken desperation power the play into a dark territory that makes this a fascinating piece.

The members of La Vie En Rose club create the kind of ensemble show the National Theatre excels in, and the size of the cast alone is impressive. Sinéad Matthews does well as the louche Elizabeth, carrying on an affair in front of her long-term partner Siegfried (Danny Webb), while Jonathan Slinger’s gloriously camp film director Maurice Hussey attempts to live up to his name. If Martins Imhangbe doesn’t quite convince as the object of all affections, the fault lies with the writer – the earnest GI’s sincerity has no place amongst all this narcissism and nastiness. Which isn’t to say you won’t enjoy watching the club’s habitués: there’s a strong collection of comic cameos, including Liza Sadovy as an heiress dubbed The Treacle Queen, and Lloyd Hutchinson’s mad artist.

Everyone is escaping, and it’s a theme Ackland is less than subtle with. The play’s first incarnation was in the 1950s and overtones of Existentialism overpower it. Director Joe Hill-Gibbons decides not to restrain the piece and excesses occur, including poor Rachel Dale as local prostitute Fifi forced to walk around the stage all night – surely a little too literal? Lizzie Clachan’s set design does not serve the play well. There’s a lot of coming and going here and using the whole of the Lyttleton stage as well as giving the club three flights of stairs makes it all rather exhausting to watch.

Both play and production make up for problems with the humour on offer. Above all, it’s startlingly original. This cruel look at war-time Britain isn’t the kind of thing we are used to – no wonder it shocked so soon after the events depicted. As a satirist, Ackland is a harsh master. As insult and faux pas fly, characters become increasingly diminished in the audience’s eyes. Is there anyone to root for here? There are certainly no failings that aren’t ruthlessly exposed. The humour is out-and-out biting, vicious and extreme. And, by delivering absolutes, the play becomes heaven rather than hell.

Until 16 June 2018

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson

2016

“The Plough And The Stars” at the National Theatre

8 September 2016 Edward Lukes

There are no surprises here. Howard Davies’ new production, co-directed with Jeremy Herrin, is the quality affair you would expect from the veteran director. Utilising the National Theatre’s expert stage management, and with a typical respect for a classic text, this show drips class.

It’s a forgivable irony that Sean O’Casey’s play about the Irish Easter rising of 1916, which focuses so much on the lives of the poor, should receive such a luxurious treatment. Vicki Mortimer’s set appears impressively expensive – it takes a lot of money to look that cheap – while detail and care run through the whole show.

With a steely confidence, Davies and Herrin take us deep into the lives of those living in a Dublin tenement house. Flynn and Covey (Lloyd Hutchinson and Tom Vaughan-Lawlor) argue over politics while an agnostic drunk, made loveable by Stephen Kennedy, looks on. A good deal of humour is injected (I’m not quite sure O’Casey expected so many laughs at socialism) with the drama coming from the more serious Jack Clitheroe, portrayed convincingly by Fionn Walton, the one man willing to fight, despite his wife’s protestations.

The action doesn’t get going until the second half but when fighting starts the trauma of the battle is intense. Suffering focuses on the women and it’s the actresses who steal this show. Two great renditions of battle-axe neighbours come from Justine Mitchell and Josie Walker. On opposing sides of the struggle, their sniping is full of wit, but when care for one another creeps out it’s genuine and moving. As Clitheroe’s pregnant wife, Nora, Judith Roddy has a traumatic role; driven “mad with terror”, her whole body becomes rigid in the play’s relentless finale.

Added to these fine performances is a double achievement on the part of this production. The history and its frustrating complexity are clear; O’Casey presents many arguing sides and the directors do this justice. Also understood is the aim of showing the effects of violence on the most vulnerable, making the piece strikingly relevant. With no sense of the contrived – just theatrical power – this is a grade-A show.

Until 22 October 2016

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk

Photos by Johan Persson