Saturday 17 December 2011

Winterreise

Produced by Up In Arms Theatre

Tristan Bates Theatre, Tuesday 13th December 2011

The first of two vastly contrasting performances at the Tristan Bates Theatre on Tuesday was the Schubert song cycle Winterreise, performed in the original German by baritone and director Thomas Guthrie, accompanied on piano and guitar. Themes of depression, isolation, lost love and being really, really cold don’t necessarily make for an enticing evening of entertainment, but Up In Arms Theatre have taken this stark subject matter and created an enchanting and atmospheric staging which you can’t help but be charmed by.
First, an admission. My knowledge of Schubert’s back catalogue is limited to say the least, so this was my first foray into the chilly world of Winterreise. As it turned out, I couldn’t have wished for a better introduction to this bleak but captivating piece. Using a beautifully constructed puppet as narrator, the 24 songs charting the epic Winter journey of a desperate and heartbroken man were given a simple and accessible staging.  Translations were projected behind the performers for those of us who had forgotten most of their GCSE German, and the monochrome “silent movie” styling that they were given added to the already spine-tingling atmosphere.
In the intimate space of the Tristan Bates Theatre the stage was left otherwise bare save for the two musicians and vocalist and puppeteer Guthrie. Rising slowly from a heap of rags, the puppet itself had an incredibly expressive quality. This was particularly heightened by subtle lighting changes which transformed not only the expression on his face, but the texture of the skin to appear at times young and hopeful, and at others elderly and weather beaten. Having never been a huge fan of puppets, this was a revelation. Through skilful animation alongside the rich, soaring baritone of the operator, the effect was somehow more touchingly human than I can imagine any actor could have produced.
Enormous credit must go to David Owen Norris on the piano and Sam Cave on guitar. While I would have liked to hear more of the guitar throughout the piece, the few songs in which it was utilised gave gentle respite to the at times relentless gloom of the protagonist’s story. Using a magnificent piano, which we were informed prior to the performance was a relic from Schubert’s time, Norris produced an astonishing performance which was only heightened by the beautiful tinny tone of the instrument. As a trio, they were faultless.
The subject matter of Winterreise is never going to make for easy watching, yet the elegant simplicity of the staging made it both comprehensible and, dare I say it, enjoyable even for a novice such as myself. I can’t think of a better introduction to Schubert, and considering the inspired work on show here, I certainly look forward to seeing more of Up In Arms Theatre in the future.

Wednesday 14 December 2011

Matt Fisher "I Have Something to Say"

Performed by Joz Norris

Tristan Bates Theatre, Tuesday 13th December 2011

It’s hard to believe that this one man show is the first live outing for self-proclaimed “internet phenomenon” Matt Fisher. Strutting onstage to cringe-inducing power rock and mis-timed powerpoint slides, the absurdity of this fantastically conceived creation seemed even better suited to the stage than screen. Standing before us in a shocking red shirt, tucked into what I can only assume were women’s jeggings, the intimate space of the Tristan Bates Theatre allowed the full, remarkable physicality of Joz Norris’s performance to take shape in this hugely exciting debut .
 Already creating buzz for himself on the stand up circuit, Norris is an astonishing character actor.  Matt Fisher is the sort of rare comic creation that is absurd yet believable, repulsive yet endearing, and performed with such commitment that the boundaries of what is real and what is performed become blurred. He is a larger than life, utterly deluded and always brilliantly, unintentionally funny. To liken him to other comedy figures would perhaps be a disservice to the invention that has gone into his making, but if you can imagine the bastard son of Howard Moon and David Brent, then make what you’re imagining ten times funnier, you’d be on the right track.
Despite leaving the stage to make a phone call, finishing the show before the much hyped piano recital to attend “an invitation to a booty call” and all the while exaggerating wildly about his own successes (“Don’t you know who I am? I’ve got a BA!”) the audience remain firmly on Matt’s side. Not least because, among the arrogance, the un-PC faux pas and the sometimes aggressive sexism, there are moments of genuine tragedy in the piece. I can’t have been the only audience member who got a lump in their throat watching him fail spectacularly with a woman of his own creation to the soundtrack of “Lady in Red”, during a one man demonstration of “nightclubbing”.  Along with snapshots of his unhappy childhood this made what could have been no more than an excellent parody into a rounded and affecting hour of entertainment. The complete lack of social awareness that Matt possesses became both believable and loveable when we realised that his two best friends only begrudgingly entertain his notions of celebrity, and even the women in his own head turn him down in disgust.
Finishing the evening with an emotional ukulele ballad about a past girlfriend who dumped him over MSN Messenger, we leave Matt with a glimmer of genuine hope in his otherwise fantastical world. Heading off optimistically to meet a woman, he concedes to using just one instrument in his finale (despite the £300 hire charge for the piano), in a subtle change of atmosphere from his entrance.  This made for an uplifting conclusion, brilliantly undercut with some DVD outtakes of his supposed “upcoming feature film”.
This was some of the most original and involving comedy that I’ve seen for some time. With the plethora of stand ups currently saturating the comedy market, it’s incredibly refreshing to see something different, daring and pulled off with exceptional skill and timing. I’m now eagerly awaiting what Matt Fisher does next, and with a debut show of this quality don’t be surprised if Joz Norris and his wonderfully executed alter ego become a prolific presence on the comedy scene next year.

Saturday 26 March 2011

Betty Blue Eyes Review

Novello Theatre Thursday 24th March 2011

It’s been ten years since Cameron Mackintosh produced his last new musical. Other than the occasional public appearance, such as sobbing onstage at the Les Mis 25th Anniversary Concert or bigging up his bezzie mate Steven “Steve” Sondheim at the Oliviers, it seemed his role as producer had drawn to a close. Surely it would take something incredibly special to persuade a multi-millionaire to actually go back to work? Enter Betty Blue Eyes, playing at the Novello Theatre and starring Sarah Lancashire, Reece Shearsmith and Adrian Scarborough.

First, an admission. As much as I want to support new British musical theatre, my entire reason for booking these tickets was Reece Shearsmith. All I knew was the name of the show and the possible involvement of a pig, but lovely Reece proved an irresistible prospect. I admit it, I love him. Whether he’s singing to a farmyard animal, or in the role of the ever-terrifying Papa Lazarou in League of Gentlemen, I still want to touch his lovely face and bake him scones. But back to the show.

Betty Blue Eyes is a gentle but surprisingly touching story set in Post WW2 Britain where austerity still reigns and the only prospect of excitement is the upcoming Royal Wedding. Good timing indeed. Shearsmith and Lancashire play Gilbert and Joyce, a childless couple living off Gilbert’s modest wage as a travelling chiropodist while taking care of Joyce’s 84 year old mother. Local tension is high between the “nobodies” and the “somebodies”: the steak eaters and the spam eaters, those invited to the celebratory royal wedding banquet and those who aren’t. The titular Betty is an illegally bred pig intended for the aforementioned banquet, but who has a strangely seductive effect on men. Will Gilbert and Joyce find their place in society? Will Betty be saved? Will Reece Shearsmith take his trousers off? Yes. Yes he will. Thank you Cameron.

Seeing it without expectation, the show was a complete surprise and the most perfect piece of escapism I could have wished for. Expertly balancing the comedy and tragedy, with timely but subtle reminders of the war that has just passed but with some true Alan Bennett moments still running through its heart, this is a real guilty treat. The leads do an incredible job with the full on farce of Act Two, but we stay sympathetic to their plight with cracking solos “Nobody” and “The Kind of Man I Am”, the latter of which really brought a tear to the eye. Special mention must also go to David Bamber as the endearingly conflicted council member, and the female ensemble who for once in a musical are used to their full potential, and to great effect. And yes, the pig is incredibly realistic.

As expected from Mackintosh, it’s beautifully staged almost to the point of excess. A five second appearance of a truck at the end of Act One could only be described as gratuitous, and you can just imagine the conversation that got it there:
Cameron Mackintosh: I think we need some more high tech scenery in there somewhere
Set designer: But Mr Mackintosh we’ve got an animatronic pig. It’s the one of the most expensive onstage animals ever created.
CM: Well people love vehicles onstage...have we got any vehicles?
SD: Gilbert does ride a bicycle.
CM: Could we put him in a car?
SD: There’s really no need...the bicycle suits his character. They’d never be able to afford a car.
CM: Let’s get him a car. We can slip it in the end of Act One. People love a good vehicle at the end of an act.
SD: Yes Mr Mackintosh.
CM: WAIT! Make it a truck! A BLOODY BIG TRUCK!

But I can forgive Cameron his flights of fancy, because he’s backed an incredibly lovely British musical that otherwise wouldn’t have achieved anywhere near the support and exposure it has without him. It’s great to hear brand new music on a London stage and Lancashire in particular is vocally impressive. Reece Shearsmith’s performance is worth the ticket price alone. Yes there are cringeworthy lines, pig puns and several bizarre fantasy scenes, but if you’re a musical theatre fan this is a must see. Sometimes theatre needs no controversy, and does not need to challenge us. Go, escape for two hours and return to 2011 thinking that things really aren’t so bad after all.

Tuesday 15 March 2011

Umbrellas of Cherbourg Review

Gielgud Theatre 11th March 2011

I was first introduced to Kneehigh in 2008 when they brought their stunningly beautiful production of Brief Encounter to the Haymarket Cinema. Having only lived in London for a matter of months at this point, I am happy to admit that this was the play that truly cemented my love for theatre in the capital. Struggling at the time to stay motivated in what I can only describe as an overwhelming yet alarmingly uninspiring term of a Drama degree, it completely remotivated me and reminded me that theatre is more than standing outside a laundrette in minus temperatures pretending to be an autumn leaf. It can actually be a bloody good night out.

Absolutely no pressure then for this - another film adaptation from those clever folk at Kneehigh. Expectations were high, the ticket prices even higher and it was going to take something spectacular to live up to Brief Encounter, not to mention justifying spending my entire weekly intern wage in the process.

Visually, Umbrellas of Cherbourg cannot be faulted. The use of a parallel miniature set which brought titters of uncertainty from the audience was an inspired scene-setting decision that set the tone for the quaint kitchness of what was to come. Upon the emergence of the full-sized scenery it was clear that we were in for a real spectacle of an evening: neon signs, iron spiralled staircases, helium balloons and, of course, the titular umbrellas all created an enchanting vision of 1950s Cherbourg.

While the beauty and inventiveness of the visuals could probably have kept me entertained alone, the aspect of the production I was most eagerly awaiting was the music. New musical theatre which challenges convention is always going to be exciting, although in advertising Umbrellas of Cherbourg as "A French romance that just happens to be sung" it is perhaps not fair to expect a score which rivals its West End neighbours. This indeed turned out to be the case, and the non-stop recitative which the actors so valiantly sung through did drag at certain points. The big showstopping moment came with the evening's only stand alone number: "Without You", performed by the effortlessly divine Meow Meow. Two minutes of pure emotion, there was no need for any flashy imagery and the stunned silence which came before a justifiably extended applause cemented this moment as the most powerful of the night. While the entire ensemble was excellent, for me it was the casting coup of Meow Meow which made the production so utterly refreshing and full of joy despite the inherent tragedy of the plot. As our "maitresse" for the evening, she guided us through the action with humour, elegance and more than a few flashes of undercarriage...what a woman.

Umbrellas of Cherbourg is for those who have tired of the identikit musicals that London currently has on offer, although please don't go expecting the actors to turn to you and belt out numbers that you will be singing on the way home. This is an altogether gentler and more immersive experience; part musical, part cinema, part cabaret but all totally Kneehigh. If you go with an open mind and an open heart you'll have a treat of an evening. And I have no doubt that this will provide countless others with their own Brief Encounter moment.