Tag Archives: Sam Tutty

Uncategorised

“Two Strangers (carry a cake across New York)” at the Kiln Theatre

This new musical from Jim Barne and Kit Buchan is memorable and entertaining. The story is neat: an English man and an American woman, meeting before a wedding, provide a clash of cultures and learn a lot from each other. The characters are strong and the performances, from Dujonna Gift and Sam Tutty, are excellent.

What sets this show – which has plenty to say about dating – apart is its GSOH. Jokes can be tricky in musicals – many have tried and struggle with this. And humour is hard when you are on well-trodden ground (the show is, essentially, a rom-com). But there’s enough originality in the characters, if not the scenario, to challenge and surprise. Songs are about happiness and loneliness, a night on the town and a subsequent hangover, even a Christmas angle and, of course, Tinder. It’s standard stuff. But each number has a quirk that helps it stand out. Using naïvety or cynicism, the strong collection of songs manage to be “something a little different”.

Tutty makes his eccentric character, Dougal, instantly appealing, with each oddity endearing. Dougal’s journey might feel hackneyed in less capable hands, but here vulnerabilities aren’t just believable, they become admirable. Gift is a revelation, her voice strong, her acting impeccable. Her frosty character, Robin, is dramatically layered and Gift’s grip on comedy is fantastic.

There’s a serious underlying theme to the show’s fun, an ambition to be more than a rom-com, as both characters are estranged from family members and, as the saying goes, each is unhappy in their own way. It’s Dougal’s father and Robin’s sister who are getting married (note how vivid all offstage characters are – a sure sign of strong writing), but things aren’t quite as they seem. The relationships are explored with depth and impressively controlled sentiment aided by Tim Jackson’s firm direction.

Two-Strangers-final-scene-credit-Marc-Brenner

Two Strangers tackles cliché in a clever way. One character has seen too many movies, the other is more cynical than is good for her. While Dougal imagines what would happen if they were in a film, Tutty’s eyes wide with wonder, Gift skilfully shows how heavily expectations rest on Robin. But none of this is tackled in a predictable way and by the finale there is a complicity to their make believe that bodes well for both. The show, like Dougal and Robin’s weekend is “strange and sweet”. So good, in fact, that I’m keen for second helpings.

Until 20 January 2024

www.kilntheatre.com

Photos by Marc Brenner

Uncategorised

“Romeo and Juliet” from Metcalfe Gordon Productions

Top marks for trying. For this filmed theatre production of Shakespeare’s tragedy, director David Evans has used technology to carry on working during Covid-19. Using green screens and CGI sets means protective social distancing is possible for a large cast. Unfortunately, the results are uneven; you end up missing live theatre more than ever.

The technology created a lot of work for editor Ryan Metcalfe – his job is mind-boggling – but the results are disheartening. Performing scenes individually, hugely difficult for actors, creates a stilted feel that is too frequently uncomfortable. The detailed planning for each moment is distractingly transparent.

Jessica Murrain as Prince in Romeo & Juliet credit Ryan Metcalfe Preevue
Jessica Murrain

Evans has a firm hand on direction. There is an air of restraint, with many performances understated, as well as physically static, that presumably aided editing. Sensible and understandable, it provides an interesting take for Vinta Morgan’s Friar and works well for Jessica Murrain’s Prince. But most of the time, the reserve becomes monotonal and sometimes downright odd.

Worse still, at a time when so many miss it, the lack of human contact between performers is painful. Moments when characters would have touched, to emphasise any kind of emotion, stand out. You can sense the instincts of performers have been denied. The production is truly of the moment. But could this lack, somehow, have been used poignantly? Instead, it’s just… sad.

Emily Redpath and Sam Tutty credit Ryan Metcalfe Preevue
Emily Redpath and Sam Tutty

The show is saved by its leads (with a little help from Derek Jacobi reading the prologue) and an impressive score from Sam Dinley. Romeo and Juliet do get to touch. Evans has secured a fine Juliet with Emily Redpath. Any struggles come from the role rather than Redpath – as a young woman Juliet’s life is more controlled, an inadvertent insight into the play. Redpath emphasises youth and makes the part moving.

The show belongs to Sam Tutty’s Romeo. The Dear Evan Hanson star is hugely impressive, bringing a natural feel to the lines, without denying their poetry, and a confidence to the part that is captivating. Frequently, his reactions are more interesting than anything else going on. This experiment with a new kind of theatre did not work for me. But fans of Tutty will not be disappointed. 

Until 27 February 2020

www.romeojuliet2021.com

Photos by credit Ryan Metcalfe / Preevue

Uncategorized

“Godspell” On Line, In Concert

This recorded concert, celebrating the 50th anniversary of a legendary show, boasts a special introduction from its composer and lyricist Stephen Schwartz. Fans have the chance to hear some great new performances from a strong cast. And it’s all in aid of good causes: Manchester’s Hope Mill Theatre, Acting For Others and the National AIDS Trust.

I’m not a huge admirer of the piece, but there are plenty of good songs. While Schwartz knows variety is needed, both in style and emotional tempo, there aren’t enough stand-out numbers in a score that’s a little too easy on the ear. Thankfully, there’s no sense that any of the performers share my reservations. Among the West End stars assembled, it’s great to see and hear talents such as Alison Jiear, Jenna Russell and Sam Tutty. George Carter’s musical direction is of the highest quality.

Director Michael Strassen tries hard to tackle the fluid nature of the song cycle format. While original productions presented parables, here inserts reveal abstract concepts of what the songs are ‘about’: Prepare, Hope, Faith, even Class. The approach provides some structure but conflicts with the inclusion of photographs from the present day, mostly of care workers, that feel proscriptive. And Godspell’s religious content is strangely absent. It takes a while to remember that John-Michael Tebelak’s book is loosely based on the Gospel story. As a result, Darren Day’s emotive performance as Jesus ends up disconnected and rather odd.

Although a smaller problem, the performers are not helped by the video work in this production. The variety of backgrounds is nice, but the split scenes, phone screens (of course) and graphics are frequently, well, naff. Especially disappointing is their intrusion in Ruthie Henshall’s number, Turn Back, O Man, performed in the bath! With a rubber duck on board, we don’t need bubbles added – the performance alone is enough.

Another notable exception – some humour – comes with a fine performance from Ria Jones of Learn Your Lessons Well. Otherwise, the tone is earnest, dry even. Plenty of effort is made to inject energy (Jiear is especially good at this) but as a collection of short films, momentum never takes off. Much of this is not Strassen’s fault – it’s a reflection of the show itself. While it always sounds top notch, the piece is downright monotonous.

Until 29th August 2020

www.hopemilltheatre.co.uk

Uncategorized

“Dear Evan Hansen” at the Noël Coward Theatre

Theatrical responses to young adult mental health hit the big time with this highly anticipated tear-jerking transfer from Broadway. Teen suicide and all manner of problems for millennials make the target audience sometimes painfully clear. But there’s an intelligence behind Steven Levenson’s excellent book that raises Dear Evan Hansen well above many coming-of-age dramas.

The action revolves around social media (these kids are more online than at school). Tension mounts as Evan’s deceit, about his friendship with deceased class mate Connor, entangles him in the world wide web. A campaign, including Kickstarter, and the inevitable empowering vocabulary that follows, is treated with a mature, sometimes sceptical, touch. 

Doug Colling and Sam Tutty in the London production of "Dear Evan Hansen"
Doug Colling and Sam Tutty

Connor’s death is the best thing that’s happened to Evan; he finally has a profile at school. But the friendship it engenders is an imaginary one with the dead boy. Meanwhile, contact with Connor’s sister results in a clever twist on Cyrano de Bergerac that’s heartbreaking. Along the way, the roles provide strong parts for Doug Colling and Lucy Anderson, who contribute to the uneasy atmosphere that Michael Greif’s direction explicates. As Evan promises his lost and lonely cohorts “You Will Be Found” – becoming an internet hit himself – the drama that he will be found out is considerable.

Sam Tutty and Rebecca McKinnis in the London production of 'Dear Evan Hansen'
Sam Tutty and Rebecca McKinnis

The story may be simple, even predictable, but it broadens gracefully. Becoming a show that concerns mourning and parenthood, there are well-drawn roles for the adults in the piece. Unashamedly, rather than learning from themselves or their peers, they are the characters for their children to learn from. Rebecca McKinnis is superb as Evan’s struggling mum, while Lauren Ward and Rupert Young play Connor’s grieving parents with believable intensity. All three are included in scenes of psychological complexity that ensure depth.

Scenes of extended dialogue mean that Dear Evan Hansen is – almost – as much a play with songs as a musical. The show has its own pace, handled boldly by Greif, that is distinctive. The numbers by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul are already hits, so whatever formula they have for bringing on the tears is clearly effective. The music is good, although more of it, as well as more variety, would be welcome. And the lyrics are superb – not a word jars. 

These numbers are not easy to perform. As well as demanding considerable acting skills, the score acts symbiotically with the performances to make the show increasingly impressive. The same pressure makes the title role especially exciting, as you need a superb singer and a strong actor. Ticking both boxes, the part of Evan is sure to make a star of Sam Tutty. While the show is more of an ensemble piece than you might expect, the role of Evan is crucial. Again, Levenson allows a considerable complexity that Tutty can develop: this isn’t your average hero, or even your everyday misfit. The balance to retain sympathy for Evan proves fascinating.

If the conclusion of Dear Evan Hansen is a little pat, it is also impressively understated; any positivity isn’t cloying. Hope for the future is the best that can be offered, maintaining a distinctly melancholy air. Seclusion is the prevailing theme; which is especially sad as you never forget this is a show for young people. Thankfully, support and a sense of perspective are present – they give the piece an underlying wisdom. And the show’s success provides inspiration; the audience response, amidst much sniffling, is contagious. Deservedly, lonely Evan Hansen should prove to be a long runner.

Until 30 May 2020

www.dearevanhansen.com

Photos by Matthew Murphy