"Jim Steinman's Bat Out Of Hell - The Musical", Opera House, Manchester, 24/3/17

Awesome. Emotional. Epic. Exhilarating. Gut-busting. Intense. Monumental. Powerful. Rocking. Stunning. Wagnerian.

Perfectly synthesising varied elements ranging from the graphic novel to the rock concert Jim Steinman's apocalyptic rock retelling of the Peter Pan story finally bursts onto the stage in a production that manages to equal the audacity of Steinman's songwriting more than 40 years since the project was initiated as the musical The Dream Engine and its revision Neverland, spawning the Bat Out Of Hell album and influencing virtually everything Steinman has since written.
Though it is termed a 'musical' Bat Out Of Hell really is more akin to an opera, both in writing and execution and only as an opera can the audacious nature of the work be granted full release so that it is able to achieve its potential success. Yes, 'musical' is a more marketable, more commercial term but Bat Out Of Hell is really a modern opera. As it should be:

In the year 2100 the city of Obsidian (formerly Manhattan) is ruled over by Falco who keeps his daughter Raven a virtual prisoner in his tower home, along with his wife, Sloane. Under the city live The Lost, a tribe of mutants whose genes ensure they never age beyond the age of 18. Their leader is Strat who falls for Raven when he first sets eyes on her. The feeling is reciprocated and Raven makes her escape as soon as she can, enraging Falco as well as Strat's best friend, Tink, a fellow Lost Boy who is unique in that his genes make him younger than all the others to the point that where others may ride motorcycles, Tink has to rely on his bicycle. Tink's uniqueness also means that he is never able to fulfil his sexual desires, primarily aimed at Strat, which leads to his growing jealousy toward his idol. The teenage sexual angst drives the various strands of the plot, even where that angst is jealously longed for by Falco, eager to recapture the passion that youth promised.

Steinman's libretto is somewhat rudimentary and reliant on his penchant for a unique turn of phrase but this actually works in favour of the production helping to establish the world and its language whilst harking back to the fairy-tale nature of the source material: basic, but detailed when required. It's also laced with humour and pathos and has its surprisingly moving moments.

The arrangements by Steve Sidwell and Michael Reed of Steinman's songs are excellently executed and the orchestrations have a variety about them that maintains a consistent feel within the nature of the production. Indeed some arrangements are downright stunningly haunting (Heaven Can Wait for one). Robert Emery's musical direction is well judged and Gareth Owen's sound design serves Steinman's songs well, though sometimes the numerous speakers  seem barely able to contain them. The use of the songs throughout the libretto are perfectly attuned to the necessary plot elements, elaborating plot details and/or character emotion and none seem superfluous; even Dead Ringer For Love serves a purpose within the subplot between Zahara and Jagwire. Steinman's lyrics also feel perfectly at home on the grand musical stage and any minor tweaks he has made work for the better.

The set design by Jon Bausor is rich in theatrical/cinematic fluidity and it metamorphoses succinctly between numerous locations and the integration of Finn Ross' video projection and Patrick Woodroffe's awesome lighting is uniquely congruent. There are numerous references to various Steinman lyrics and projects within the set design, from the Bad For Good album artwork on Raven's bedroom wall (she oft quotes the opening lines of the title song of that album) to the Life Is A Lemon graffiti adorning some of the geological rock elements of the set. The costumes by Meentje Nielson equally establish a world of the future that echoes the past whilst retaining comedic elements as is true throughout the production.
The synergy created between the design elements and the vision of the musical's director, Jay Scheib, ultimately shaping Steinman's dream, is such that the images and happenings onstage are exhilarating and surprising, generating diverse environments and energies making the theatrical experience a cinematic one and it is a testament to the production and its direction that what is witnessed is so kinetic that it sweeps the audience along, no doubt aided by a design which encroaches into the auditorium, drawing them into the onstage world completely.
The pacing, the mood, the tension and the emotional impact are almost universally exquisitely executed by Scheib who utilises the music, the lyrics and the dialogue to exacting precision. That he is versed in directing opera is a boon to the production with the opera staging style well integrated into the more usual form of musical theatre directing, never glaringly obvious but perfectly natural to the epic, over-the-top nature of Steinman's material.
Emma Portner's choreography is distinct and sometimes akin to that that may be seen in a Steinman music video; indeed its use is occasionally to the same end, as the dance is not always essential to the plot, but rather it is a visual element since the dancers are not really part of a scene, but even then it is unusual in that they never distract from the lead characters whose song or scene it may be and who always retain the audience's attention. In other sequences, though, the dancers are an essential element and are often used as a storytelling device, simultaneously providing the backing vocals to create the Steinman sound. The performers' energy and enthusiasm is never waning and their stamina is noteworthy.

Of course, the production isn't perfect; the opening medley of songs could be trimmed further and the subplot of Tink's love and friendship of Strat could be established earlier and more successfully to make what happens later more profound, as could the relationship between Zahara and Jagwire which needs a little more elaborating to make her falling for him (after confessing she loves someone else) more believable. More time also needs to be taken between Strat and Raven's separation and reunion which, at present, passes in the blink of an eye; perhaps here would be a more suitable use of the song It Just Won't Quit or even the song The Future Ain't What It Used To Be. Likewise the final resolutions could be more established to create a more concrete finale. Were I to be even more critical then I'd point out that the 'California' reference in For Crying Out Loud may need altering if it is a literal lyric as the city of Obsidian is indicated to be the former Manhattan whereas, in the original Neverland, it was actually in California, which would make the lyric appropriate. That said the lyric can be an abstract, wishful reference and is such a small quibble that it is almost irrelevant.
Of course, given the amount of material Steinman has written over the years it's impossible for a stage production to feature every song (or song extract) heard on any of the Bat Out Of Hell albums without the production running for less than four hours (don't worry, it doesn't - it currently runs just over two and half hours) and there will inevitably be one or two numbers omitted that Steinman and Meat Loaf fans will lament the loss of; Lost Boys And Golden Girls is just one of the songs that you won't hear in the stage show, but there are plenty of numbers to satiate any die-hard fan. That said, if any further revisions happen (perhaps to rectify any of the points illustrated above) then I can certainly see a use for some of the omitted album tracks, or even extracts from them, such as using the bridge (and perhaps more) from Good Girls Go To Heaven (Bad Girls Go Everywhere) in place of the current position of It Just Won't Quit which would facilitate the latter song's re-use as I describe above. But these are decisions for the creative team to make.

The casting as almost uniformly excellent with the company blessed with truly outstanding credible rock voices and a physicality that exudes the youthful energies and drives that Steinman captures so well.
Andrew Polec as Strat is a dynamo and his lean, youthful looks and big voice perfectly capture the figure of permanent youth and sexual energy as any alter-ego of Jim Steinman should. He rises well above the challenges that he faces in the role and he leads from the front giving a truly spellbinding performance.
Christina Bennington's Raven is a full-throated, raging, vivacious teenager, rebelling against her parents blessed with a powerful voice and beautiful stage presence.
As Tink Aran MacRae is a delicate creature whose tender voice and charisma beautifully captures the tragedy of the character, caught in a world in which he can never really participate.
The sexually charged Sloane is portrayed with scintillatingly by Sharon Sexton who has ample opportunity to let her vigorous vocals shine, especially in the incredibly staged Paradise By The Dashboard Light which she shares with the prowling, masculine Falco of Rob Fowler whose aching need to recapture his youth, whilst restraining his own daughter's, is elegantly performed by an actor whose vocal qualities are perfectly suited to Steinman's work. 

Whilst still pleasant to hear, it's unfortunate that Dom Hartley-Harris' vocal range means he isn't quite on par with his fellow singers in handling the demanding ranges of Steinman's songs - he chooses to sing lower harmony lines at times - and he sometimes appears ill-at-ease onstage whilst the connection and his charisma is somewhat lacking in the relationship with Danielle Steers' dynamic and thrilling Zahara whose voice is one of the most unique and memorable. Steers is a powerful force on the stage and one of the most mesmeric performers of recent years. Indeed there is quite a large number of incredible performers gracing the stage in Bat Out Of Hell.

Not to take anything away from otherwise rousing performances but there are also, sadly, one or two members of The Lost - Giovanni Spano being one - who appear physically too old (at least as they appear in character onstage) to credibly play a 'frozen' - never appearing to age beyond 18 - but as these are seldom centre of attention this incongruousness is often dismissed.
The powerful voices and physicality that Bat Out Of Hell demands - and requires - is in plentiful abundance in this production and they, for the most part, serve Jim Steinman excellently.

Bat Out Of Hell is perhaps the ultimate rock musical - certainly the ultimate rock opera - and given that Steinman's songs have always been character and story driven this eases their integration into the realms of a dramatic structure more than most other rock musicals which utilise some pre-existing music. The plot and its children's story origin also have that something which exudes the ideals of 'rock', given the concept of burgeoning sexuality inherently simmers below the surface of the original J. M. Barrie story with Wendy (translated here into the character of Raven) on the cusp of womanhood. Steinman of course brings such elements well to the fore which is entirely appropriate for rock which has always been associated with sex ever since the genre emerged. The execution of direction and design is appropriately gauged and the musical becomes one of those rare creations where every element fuses in harmony to create the glorious whole.

"Chess", RCS, Edited Review For Backstage Pass

My review for the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland production of Chess (seen here) has been slightly edited and published on Backstage Pass:

http://www.backstagepass.biz/2017/03/theatre-review-chess-royal.html

Originally developed as a 1984 album Tim Rice, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus' musical Chess spawned several chart hits, including the number one single I Know Him So Well. It was later deconstructed, rewritten, hacked apart and re-staged in various forms by a variety of directors to the point that no two version of Chess have ever been the same. In 2008 Tim Rice presented a concert version at the Royal Albert Hall in an effort to present a version close to definitive.

The musical portrays the story of chess grand-masters Freddie Trumper and Anatoly Sergievsky, representing the U.S. and U.S.S.R. in the World Chess Championship, and the woman who comes between them, Florence Vassy, who works with the American but soon falls for the Russian player. The Cold War political undertones inform the various machinations of the plot but ultimately it is a story of doomed love.

Chess is oft cited as having a complex plot but this is not so, especially if the direction is precise and focused. But here a lack of clarity and a penchant for excessive staging muddies the storytelling despite the apparent need to spoon-feed the audience information at times. It's a rather chaotic production that lacks cohesion and Andrew Panton's direction is woefully misguided and it's apparent he does not understand the musical and has not listened to Rice's lyrics, which are integral to the storytelling. Panton's staging doesn't join the dots and there are some very questionable decisions which fail to serve the plot. Act II is especially chaotic and incoherent and there is also an obsession with onstage drinking and an excessive use of fog, which threatened to engulf the audience during I Know Him So Well. 
The choreography by Darragh O'Leary is serviceable  but there are many missed opportunities, including a rather unremarkable One Night In Bangkok and a rather staid Merchandisers. His most successful work is in the second chess game where the conflict between Freddie and Anatoly is truly put to the fore in dynamic fashion. 
Kenneth MacLeod's design is clumsily dwarfed by a central platform that causes some serious stall sight-line issues but is otherwise rather run-of-the-mill and uninspired with the upstage platform under-used, though the video screen design is a welcome variation, even if the graphics themselves are questionable. The costumes include some odd choices and appear as a random assemblage of 1980s stereotypical images; Corey Haim in The Lost Boys; Miami Vice; huge over-the-top bear-skin hats for the Russians; even adorning the ensemble of One Night In Bangkok as if they were in Liberace's gym - replete with gold tank tops and shorts. Indeed the costumes are rather unvaried in scenes causing a massive swathe of singular colour to overpower the stage. Among the most unusual costume choices are for the ensemble, presumably here meant to represent chess pieces, during the chess games where cumbersome head gear is sported, recalling the helmet of TV's Knightmare. 
The unrestrained lighting design by Grant Anderson is often also a hindrance to the audience's view, often blinding them, and it is regularly overpowering, though there are also successful moments and ideas as in The Deal. 
This presentation is based on the London version, using some of the more recent additions and revisions and whilst the musical direction is fine, other musical edits are undertaken and these are rather hit and miss serving no real purpose with many being cloddish, and where sung lines are spoken, devoid of underscore, these are often awkward. That said, it's always a joy to hear Chess with a full sized orchestra - including a full string section.

It is unfortunate that there are no believable character arcs in this production based on directorial choices but the cast rise above the limitations imposed upon them: 
The Arbiter of Emma Torrens is terribly under-used and appears as a visual merging of Sam Bailey and Ana Matronic. Though she is often rooted to one spot throughout the show her dynamic vocals punctuate the production with massive effect. 
Jamie Pritchard as Anatoly is a charismatic, attractive figure who has an interesting, if unusual, vocal technique and he serves the role well and, for the most part, creates a sympathetic character that appeals to the audience. 
Freddie is portrayed as an erratic drug addict - at least in Act I, since this vice disappears in Act II. This imposed addictive factor serves only to negate the principle that Freddie is an unpleasant character because of his intense focus, to the detriment of all else, on the game of chess and his childhood as revealed in Pity The Child. Here his addiction is the issue rendering his actions in the second act as without reason. Barney Wilkinson's voice is suited to the rock role and he is certainly a watchable Freddie. 
Walter and Molokov are rather unusual portrayals, with Walter, here played by Jacob Stein, being a rather unpleasant stereotype, complete with cowboy hat and cigar, whose singing part has been unwisely all but cut. Shane Convery's Molokov is likewise stunted by directorial choices, though he, at least, has more to do. 
Svetlana has little to do, aside from verging on histrionics, and is dressed rather extravagantly for a Russian woman from Soviet-era Russia, even the wife of the Russian chess champion. In the role, Hayley VerValin does her best with the little material she is given but it is unfortunate her solo, Someone Else's Story, does not employ the appropriate 1990 Australian rewrite lyrics which make more dramatic sense for her character. 
Florence has the most successful vocals of the production (Nobody's Side is the highlight of the show) though her character is again marred by direction; having her drunk during Mountain Duet, a scene where she is supposed to fall for the Russian, negates the sober choice she is meant to be making. That said, the fact that Florence and Anatoly have no physical contact during the number makes the scene, and Freddie's response to it, ultimately futile. But Daisy Ann Fletcher is certainly something of a powerhouse in the largest role in the show. 
The ensemble do well with what they are given though this often constitutes some of the most cartoon-like, comical stereotyping ever seen which only belittles the cast and the material they perform. The ensemble vocals during Act II fall apart somewhat with Bangkok often sounding akin to a cacophony but they are especially successful when they are portraying the Reporters, handling some of the most demanding musical material very well. 

Kudos must be given to the Royal Conservatoire for attempting this demanding show but, sadly, for the most part it is a misdirected effort laden with flaws filled with excesses worthy of a Tom O'Horgan production and it is unfortunate that the cast are let down by an unremarkable creative team who have created a production that is all too clumsy and clunky and not at all as elegant as the game of chess, and the musical of the same name, should be.

"Chess", Royal Conservatoire of Scotland (New Athenaeum Theatre), Glasgow, 18/3/17

Tim Rice, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus' musical Chess was originally developed as a 1984 album which spawned several chart hits, including the number one single I Know Him So Well. It's journey to the stage was the start of a turbulent journey where the musical was deconstructed, rewritten, hacked apart and re-staged in various forms by a variety of directors. So much so that no two version of Chess have ever been the same. In 2008 Tim Rice presented a concert version at the Royal Albert Hall in an effort to present a version close to definitive.

The musical portrays the story of chess grand-masters Freddie Trumper and Anatoly Sergievsky, representing the U.S. and U.S.S.R. in the World Chess Championship, and the woman who comes between them, Florence Vassy, who works with the American but soon falls for the Russian player. The Cold War political undertones inform the various machinations of the plot but ultimately it is a story of doomed love.

Kudos must be given to the Royal Conservatoire for attempting this most demanding show but, sadly, for the most part it is a misdirected effort laden with flaws and throughout there are excesses worthy of a Tom O'Horgan production.

Chess is oft cited as having a complex plot but this is not necessarily so, especially if the direction is precise and focused. But here a lack of clarity and a penchant for excessive staging muddies the storytelling despite the apparent need to spoon-feed the audience information at times, as when screens explain the lyrics 'S.R.O.' and Molokov's manila folder emblazoned with 'Classified' - despite the fact that the word should be in Russian. In comparison, other design elements are far too busy to be successful, as in the tops worn by the Merchandisers.

It's a rather chaotic production that lacks cohesion and Andrew Panton's direction is woefully misguided and it's clear he does not understand the musical and has not listened to Rice's lyrics, which are integral to the storytelling. Panton's staging doesn't appear to join the dots and there are some very questionable decisions which fail to serve the plot. Act II is especially chaotic and incoherent and there is also an obsession with onstage drinking and an excessive use of fog, which during I Know Him So Well threatened to engulf the audience.

The choreography by Darragh O'Leary is serviceable, as is most of the musical staging but there are many missed opportunities, including a rather unremarkable One Night In Bangkok and a rather staid Merchandisers. His most successful work is in the second chess game where the conflict between Freddie and Anatoly is truly put to the fore.

Kenneth MacLeod's design is clumsily dwarfed by a central platform that causes some serious stall sight-line issues throughout the show. Beyond that it is rather run-of-the-mill and uninspired and the upstage platform is under-utilised, though the video screen design is a welcome variation, even if the graphics themselves are questionable, often reminding one of an American action movie title design. The costumes include some odd choices and appear as a random assemblage of 1980s stereotypical images; dressing Freddie as Corey Haim in The Lost Boys in Act I and a Miami Vice wannabe in Act II, adorning the Russians in huge over-the-top bear-skin hats, huge-shouldered security figures (and I mean huge), adorning the ensemble of One Night In Bangkok as if they have arrived from Liberace's gym - replete with gold tank tops and shorts. Indeed the costumes in such numbers are rather unvaried causing a massive swathe of singular colour to overpower the staging. Among the most unusual costuming choices are the ensemble costumes, presumably meant to represent chess pieces, during the chess games where cumbersome head gear is sported, recalling the helmet of TV's Knightmare.

The excessive lighting design by Grant Anderson is also sometimes a hindrance to the audience's view, often blinding them, and it is often overpowering, though there are also successful moments and ideas as in The Deal.

This presentation is based on the London version, with some of the additions and revisions of the Royal Albert Hall concert and whilst the musical direction is fine, other musical edits (including removing some of the backing vocals and reply lines in songs) are undertaken and these are rather hit and miss serving no real purpose with many being clumsy and where sung lines are spoken, devoid of underscore, these are often clunky. That said, it's always a joy to hear Chess with a full sized orchestra (not "band" as shamefully described in the programme) including a full string section.

It is unfortunate that there are no clear character arcs in this production since any established scenic points are all but ignored by the director and his choices. But otherwise the cast rise above the limitations imposed upon them:

The Arbiter of Emma Torrens is terribly under-used and comes across as a visual merging of Sam Bailey and Ana Matronic. Though she is often rooted to one spot throughout the show her dynamic vocals punctuate the production with massive effect.

Jamie Pritchard as Anatoly is a charismatic, attractive figure who has an interesting, if unusual, vocal technique and he serves the role as best as is possible given the erratic direction and, for the most part, creates a sympathetic character that appeals to the audience.

Freddie is portrayed as an erratic, alcohol-swigging drug addict - at least in Act I, since these vices miraculously disappear in Act II. This imposed addictive factor serves only to negate the principle that Freddie is an unpleasant character because of his intense focus, to the detriment of all else - including his relationship with Florence - on the game of chess and his family history as revealed in Pity The Child. Here his addictions are the issue rendering his actions in the second act as without reason. Barney Wilkinson's voice is suited to the rock role and he is certainly a watchable Freddie.

Walter and Molokov are rather unusual portrayals, with Walter, here played by Jacob Stein, especially being a rather unpleasant stereotype, complete with cowboy hat and cigar, whose singing part has been unwisely all but cut. Shane Convery's Molokov is likewise stunted by directorial choices, though he, at least, has more to do.

Svetlana is given little to do, aside from occasionally verging on histrionics, and is dressed rather extravagantly for a Russian woman from Soviet-era Russia, even if that woman is the wife of the Russian chess champion. In the role, Hayley VerValin does her best with the little material she is given. It is also unfortunate that her one solo, Someone Else's Story, employ the original Broadway lyrics where the song was written for Florence, rather than the 1990 Australian rewrite where the song was assigned to Svetlana with suitable corrections, as this would make more dramatic sense for her character.

Florence has the most impressive vocals of the production (Nobody's Side is the highlight of the show) though her character is again marred by the direction; having her get drunk during Mountain Duet, a scene where she is supposed to fall for the Russian, negates the sober choice she is meant to be making. That said, the fact that Florence and Anatoly have no physical contact during the number makes the scene, and Freddie's response to it, ultimately futile. But Daisy Ann Fletcher is certainly something of a powerhouse in the largest role in the show.

The ensemble do well with what they are given though this often constitutes some of the most cartoon-like, comical stereotyping I've ever seen which only belittles the cast and the material they perform. The ensemble vocals during Act II fall apart somewhat with Bangkok often sounding akin to a cacophony but they are especially successful when they are portraying the Reporters, handling some of the most demanding musical material very well.

Chess is a most demanding show and it is unfortunate that the cast are let down by an unremarkable creative team who have created a production that is all too clumsy and clunky and not at all as elegant as the game of chess, and the musical of the same name, should be.

An edited version of this review was later published on Backstage Pass and can be read here: http://sharmanprince.blogspot.co.uk/2017/03/chess-rcs-edited-review-for-backstage.html

"La Cage Aux Folles", Edinburgh Playhouse, 7/3/17

Despite premiering in London in the 1980s, this is the first ever UK tour of Jerry Herman and Harvey Fierstein's "La Cage Aux Folles". Following its West End transfer, the Menier Chocolate Factory production of a few years back was rumoured to tour but this, sadly, never happened. Now Bill Kenwright has taken the lead and produced a first class production, taking a risk on a title that has little track record outside of London, but one that more than delivers. What prompted Kenwright's decision I do not know but the production is more than welcome and especially timely given the politically volatile times we live in.

The musical tells the story of Georges, owner of St. Tropez cabaret club La Cage aux Folles, whose son, Jean-Michel, returns home to announce his impending marriage to Anne, daughter of right-wing politician Edouard Dindon, who seeks to close the nightclubs and restore 'tradition' values. Georges raised Jean-Michel with his partner Albin, whose alter-ego is Zaza, star of La Cage aux Folles. In an effort to win favour from his potential parents-in-law Jean-Michel requests that Albin make himself scarce when the Dindons arrive to meet his family. The tension and emotional turmoil that follows forms the crux at the heart of a story which illustrates how a solid family is formed by those sharing love and respect for each other, as demonstrated in Herman's beautiful song "Look Over There", and that as different as people may at first appear to be, in reality they share many similarities. 

There is some light trimming of Herman's score, which remains one of his finest, and some minor tinkering with Fierstein's book but these are not detrimental but, rather, serve to update and focus some details and both Herman's songs (including the anthemic "I Am What I Am", "The Best Of Times" and the lush "Song On The Sand") and Fierstein's book remain as entertaining, witty and as potent as ever. 

Director Martin Connor makes some brave choices, including ad-libbing and asides, and maintains a fluidity throughout whilst the choreography by Bill Deamer is attuned to the scenes in which they take place, be they 'onstage' or off, and further the quality of the production. The set and costume design of Gary McCann is exquisite and is elegantly complimented by the lighting. Where the previous Menier Chocolate Factory production took the lyrics of the title song as indication of the second- or even third-rate nature of the club, here the club's design is untarnished glamour and the production numbers, whilst retaining an element of the less-than-perfect, are first rate. Here the title number is performed with a wink as if something of an ironic joke about the nature of the club.
The orchestrations are surprisingly effective and the musical direction of Mark Crossland is on top form. Which is fortunate, given that Zaza keeps him on his toes.

This production appears to fuse time periods with 70s design elements working alongside modern ones, and this creates an impression of the timelessness of the piece, of how relevant its message is now as when the original Jean Poiret play was written. The variety of accents heard across the characters also illuminates the idea of inclusion, that the human story, regardless of where we originate, involves us all.

Another strong aspect of the production is the casting, led exceptionally by John Partridge as Albin/Zaza whose rich, silky vocals, at times sexually husky, deliver Herman's melodies and lyrics with ease, with every syllable imbued with purpose. His physicality is dynamic yet controlled and he moves effortlessly in heels (not for the first time as Partridge previously appeared as Marilyn in Taboo). As the emotional dynamo of the production he is adept equally in the intimate scenes as he is in his flamboyant scenes as Zaza where he ad-libs profusely, breaking the fourth wall occasionally - something that could threaten to derail the momentum of a production but which, here, becomes part of Zaza's magic. This is a role that Partridge was born to play and he makes the most of every moment especially his emotionally heartbreaking, yet rousing, performance of "I Am What I Am".

Adrian Zmed is a suave and attractive Georges, ever the calm at the centre of the storm that revolves about him. His relationship with Albin is tender, loving, never feels artificial and together they create an impression of emotional history and connection that maintains their relationship, replete with a palpable chemistry. Diametrically opposite to the wild nature of Albin, Georges is a necessarily solid, dependable character who might come across as dull, but that is not the case in Zmed's capable hands (and vocals) and he is as engaging and as charming as is possible and establishes himself as one of the many joys of the production.
The Cagelles of the company are unique, vivacious figures who lend sterling support, whether in the club numbers or not, and each promotes a strong presence when they appear and they dance and sing with sublime enthusiasm. The fact they can create individual characters within the confines of ensemble performance is a credit to each of them.
Marti Webb's Jacqueline may be relatively small role but it is an important one and Webb lends her powerful and impressive voice to the production and she is a welcome, calming, presence. Dougie Carter makes a visually and vocally attractive Jean-Michel and the Jacob of Samson Ajewole is a physical, comedic treat. Further support is excellently provided by Alexandra Robinson's Anne Dindon, Su Douglas' Marie Dindon and, as right-wing politician Dindon, Paul F Monaghan who, together, form the counterparts to the less traditional family of Georges, Albin and Jean-Michel.

A lively, thrilling, emotional, uplifting, joyously vibrant musical that proclaims 'we are what we are' and that that is more than okay, La Cage Aux Folles still retains an impact that is as credible, and as vital, as when Jean Poiret wrote his original play back in 1973. This vivacious production serves the material exceptionally well and is an example of the best of theatre at a time when entertaining, powerful stories need to be told and need to be seen and heard.

"The Play That Goes Wrong", Theatre Royal, Glasgow, 6/3/17

Written for Backstage Pass:

http://www.backstagepass.biz/2017/03/theatre-review-play-that-goes-wrong.html

Extolling the virtues of the worst aspects of amateur dramatics, The Play That Goes Wrong brings its anarchic chaos back to Glasgow as part of its new UK tour. Filled with uproarious action, witty dialogue and the worst actors (in the best possible way) the play presents the Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society's production of "The Murder at Haversham Manor". Or, rather, it attempts to as, needless to say, things go awry from the off.

Intelligently written by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields and utilising elements of farce, physical theatre and anything appearing on a list of theatrical nightmare scenarios from technical errors and misplaced props to timing mistakes, the production is cleverly constructed along the lines of the murder mystery plays of old whilst even managing a nod or two to the sacred Gaffer tape of theatre technicians among other bright moments dotted throughout. The authors' word play is exciting and no doubt contributed to their receiving the Olivier Award for Best Comedy in 2015. Dynamically abysmal lines are delivered with aplomb, exaggerated diction and even with excruciating mispronunciation.

The physical production is no less as varied and the staging is tightly choreographed around a set that is as dangerous as it is effective. Add to that the equally en pointe use of lighting and sound and you have the tumultuous parts to manufacture a manic whole. The construction and execution of the play is potently delivered thanks to the writers and director Mark Bell and it is a testament to the creative team that the production still feels as fresh and remains as achingly funny as ever.

The play is filled with exceedingly well written characters (familiar to anyone who has taken part in am-dram) which are performed brilliantly by an ensemble of energetic actors, even if some feel a trifle shoehorned into predefined roles. From the sultry diva to the Laurence Olivier wannabe the stage is alive with memorable figures, even representing the unsung technical heroes (or not, in this case) that work behind the scenes.

The best of the worst of theatre, farcical and hysterical, The Play That Goes Wrong is nothing less than an uplifting and enjoyable dose of comedy and a theatrical treat that cannot fail to raise at least a smile and a giggle from the most jaded of theatregoers.

"The Full Monty", Glasgow King's Theatre, 27/2/17

Written for Backstage Pass:

http://www.backstagepass.biz/2017/02/theatre-review-full-monty-kings-theatre.html

It's been a whopping twenty years since "The Full Monty" burst on to the big screen, becoming something of a phenomenon in the process, and now the stage version, written by the film's original screenwriter Simon Beaufoy, is once again touring the UK and it remains as socially timely as ever.

Ostensibly the story of a group of unemployed Sheffield steel workers in the late 80s who decide to set up their own all-male strip group - whose unique selling point is that they go "the full Monty" - the play deals with a number of issues including sexuality, fatherhood, impotence and the societal pressures faced by employees and their families when unemployment strikes: when a person's identity, their pride and purpose, is inherently entwined with their employment status the search to regain those attributes can be a difficult one especially when one's own sense of worth can be damaged or repaired depending on how others see and treat you.

Beaufoy's script is lean and tight, liberally laced with humour and great lines, and the varied plot-lines of the men are equally considered, though Gary Lucy's "Gaz" has the main thread and the relationship between him and his son "Nathan" Felix Yates is an emotional highlight. Indeed, Yates threatens to steal the show with a charming presence and engaging performance. Lucy comes off exceedingly well and he makes an admirable leading man. Another well-handled and beautifully performed subplot is that which involves Anthony Lewis and Chris Fountain which is surprisingly moving and is treated deftly by both writer and director. It's fair to say that the leading actors who form the male strip group are equally strong (Kai Owen and Andrew Dunn are especially solid pillars amongst them) and the bond they form together onstage is palpable. The ensemble are also nearly as uniformly well cast and are used well but succinctly.

Jack Ryder's direction contains some clever, lovely moments and he handles his cast well. He also has a firm hand when it comes to the use of lighting and the disused factory set, including the scenic transitions which are almost from Poor Theatre, though he does make an error or two at the end of each act, including "Guy"'s 'reveal' and the abrupt curtain at the finale (the moment should be savoured a bit longer). The final strip is a little abrupt and a varied pace in the first quarter would also be welcome, but beyond these points he is a sterling director and ensures that there are nods to the original film peppered throughout.

Given the social relevance and poignancy of the story it is a little disconcerting that many of the (predominantly female) audience treat the play almost as if it were "The Rocky Horror Show" (or worse - a Hen party) complete with call-backs and not always appropriate cheers. But that's not to take away from the pleasure and enjoyment one feels when viewing a play which, ultimately, has to be one of hope. And we all need a bit of that.