A Broadway hit from 1959, Once Upon a Mattress is a musical comedy based on Hans Christian Andersen’s The Princess and the Pea. Or rather, it takes the essence of that story and has a lot of fun elaborating it.
It’s the year 1428 and Prince Dauntless (Theo Toksvig-Stewart) wants to be married, but his domineering, utterly insufferable mother – Queen Aggravain, brilliantly brought to life by Julia Faulkner – wants to keep him for herself, believing no other woman will ever be good enough for her precious son. Perfectly adequate princesses are unfairly rejected for failing the queen’s impossible tests in a pattern that seems destined to repeat itself forever. But when the 13th contender arrives, everything changes.
Beth Burrows is stunning as the sassy, irreverent Princess Winnifred the Woebegone – an exotic creature from the marshlands. Not only is she incredibly animated and full of energy, but she also has perfect comic timing and makes every moment count. There’s a real sparkle in her performance that makes her very compelling to watch.
Steve Watts as King Sextimus has the challenging role of having to communicate only with hand gestures and facial expressions, owing to being under a spell that prevents him from speaking. Given that, it’s remarkable how well he articulates emotion and communicates so lucidly with both the cast and audience.
A six-piece band led by Jessica Douglas provides a lively and often ambitious musical accompaniment that’s punchy and precise. Mary Rodgers’ songs are bold and brassy, but with moments of pathos and humour. They are clever, too – see “The Minstrel, the Jester and I”, which plays with the notion of the king being mute by leaving spaces at the end of certain lines in place of the rhyming lyric you expect to hear.
Giulia Scrimieri’s simple yet fluidly effective set features a couple of platforms for dancing on, and screens that can be wheeled around. Colourful and inventive medieval costumes also add to the sense of vibrancy.
There are plenty of laughs, but the plot is sufficiently well constructed that there are several interwoven strands to be followed through. One thread isn’t quite tied up: we see the minstrel charm the wizard into revealing the secret test for the princess, but then Winnifred appears to pass it without any assistance. Being a “real” princess she’s sensitive enough that a single pea beneath 20 mattresses prevents her sleeping, and the minstrel’s plan for her to cheat is bafflingly not referred to again. However, this little mystery in no way impairs the enjoyment of a continually rewarding experience.
Another major plus point is the way that each character, from the jester to the minstrel narrator, is given their own moment of focus. This even-handed character development keeps your interest throughout while helping the show build to a hugely satisfying resolution.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR https://thespyinthestalls.com/
Showing posts with label • Theatre: Upstairs at the Gatehouse (Highgate). Show all posts
Showing posts with label • Theatre: Upstairs at the Gatehouse (Highgate). Show all posts
Saturday, 7 March 2020
Wednesday, 30 October 2019
30/10/19: I Do! I Do!, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
Spanning half a century and featuring just two actors, this is a charming adaptation of a 1966 Broadway musical that was based on Jan de Hartog’s 1951 play, The Fourposter. Directed and produced by Joseph Hodges, this new version revives the timeless tale of a marriage in all its stages.
We join Michael and Agnes in their bedroom on their wedding night, young and very much in love but also inexperienced and nervous at the prospect of spending their lives together. Fast-forwarding through the years to reveal the progression of their relationship, the show alternates between dramatic vignettes and vibrant, clever songs.
Gemma Maclean and Ben Morris carry the entire performance, animated and energetic enough to fill the stage by themselves. They are accompanied only by musical director Henry Brennan, who offers dextrous live keyboard interpretations of the songs by Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones.
The unfussy-but-detailed set design by Emily Bestow wisely puts the bed at its centre, flanked by a dressing table on the left and a writing desk (Michael is a novelist) and chaise longue on the right.
There’s subtle humour and plenty of warmth, but – keeping sentimentality at bay – there are also barbed observations and arguments. One of the funniest moments, built around the song “Nobody’s Perfect”, shows the bickering couple reading from pre-prepared lists of each other’s faults. We learn that she wears cold cream in bed, while he makes a strange sucking noise in his sleep. There’s also an amusing running joke about a “God is love” pillow that Agnes is fond of and which Michael cannot stand...
The scenes flow sequentially but the plot strands aren’t always resolved. Instead, each scene presents a new snapshot of their lives. This was a little frustrating in the case of the bombshell that ends the first half. You really want to find out how they respond to this crisis, and then... time marches on and it’s as if that scene never happened. Yet despite this slightly disjointed aspect, the narrative gives Michael and Agnes surprising emotional depth. Indeed, the ups and downs of their journey through marriage are frequently poignant and touching. We join them as they encounter the joys and fears of parenthood. We witness the rise of Michael’s writing career and see how his success affects them both differently. And we observe their mixed feelings at their daughter’s wedding as the whole cycle begins again.
If there’s a flaw it’s that the show supposedly spans the 50 years from 1890 to 1940 – a period encompassing World War I and the start of World War II – but you get little or no sense of wider events unfolding beyond the walls of their bedroom. Instead, the focus is on how time passes for the couple, which makes perfect sense given the theme, but it does seem like a missed opportunity to infuse their situation with additional gravity.
That minor point aside, it’s consistently entertaining and extremely well delivered: a successful fusion of music and narrative that makes for a compassionate study of the miracle of love.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR SPY IN THE STALLS.
We join Michael and Agnes in their bedroom on their wedding night, young and very much in love but also inexperienced and nervous at the prospect of spending their lives together. Fast-forwarding through the years to reveal the progression of their relationship, the show alternates between dramatic vignettes and vibrant, clever songs.
Gemma Maclean and Ben Morris carry the entire performance, animated and energetic enough to fill the stage by themselves. They are accompanied only by musical director Henry Brennan, who offers dextrous live keyboard interpretations of the songs by Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones.
The unfussy-but-detailed set design by Emily Bestow wisely puts the bed at its centre, flanked by a dressing table on the left and a writing desk (Michael is a novelist) and chaise longue on the right.
There’s subtle humour and plenty of warmth, but – keeping sentimentality at bay – there are also barbed observations and arguments. One of the funniest moments, built around the song “Nobody’s Perfect”, shows the bickering couple reading from pre-prepared lists of each other’s faults. We learn that she wears cold cream in bed, while he makes a strange sucking noise in his sleep. There’s also an amusing running joke about a “God is love” pillow that Agnes is fond of and which Michael cannot stand...
The scenes flow sequentially but the plot strands aren’t always resolved. Instead, each scene presents a new snapshot of their lives. This was a little frustrating in the case of the bombshell that ends the first half. You really want to find out how they respond to this crisis, and then... time marches on and it’s as if that scene never happened. Yet despite this slightly disjointed aspect, the narrative gives Michael and Agnes surprising emotional depth. Indeed, the ups and downs of their journey through marriage are frequently poignant and touching. We join them as they encounter the joys and fears of parenthood. We witness the rise of Michael’s writing career and see how his success affects them both differently. And we observe their mixed feelings at their daughter’s wedding as the whole cycle begins again.
If there’s a flaw it’s that the show supposedly spans the 50 years from 1890 to 1940 – a period encompassing World War I and the start of World War II – but you get little or no sense of wider events unfolding beyond the walls of their bedroom. Instead, the focus is on how time passes for the couple, which makes perfect sense given the theme, but it does seem like a missed opportunity to infuse their situation with additional gravity.
That minor point aside, it’s consistently entertaining and extremely well delivered: a successful fusion of music and narrative that makes for a compassionate study of the miracle of love.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR SPY IN THE STALLS.
Wednesday, 9 October 2019
09/10/19: A Modest Little Man, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
Leader of the Labour Party during World War II, Clement Attlee was elected as UK Prime Minister in 1945 and went on to create the welfare state. Directed by Owain Rose, this gently comic character study tells the story of an unassuming man who ended up playing a pivotal role in shaping post-war Britain.
As the title makes clear, Attlee was not an outlandish figure. Entirely at odds with Winston Churchill’s flamboyant manner (and indeed the kinds of world leaders we see today), his seemingly cautious approach steered clear of personality-based politics and was driven by firm ideological beliefs.
His understated nature presents a challenge for writer Francis Beckett and lead actor Roger Rose, who place this “little mouse” at the centre of the narrative. It’s a testament to their success that a man of so few words (except when discussing cricket) begins to emerge as quietly fascinating.
Portrayed brilliantly by Lynne O’Sullivan, Clement’s devoted wife Violet is far less reticent than her husband and partially narrates the play. The rest of the small cast prove to be hugely versatile, too. Churchill is memorably evoked by Silas Hawkins, one of three actors each tasked with handling multiple parts. The clever writing slowly reveals Attlee through the affection, respect and frustration felt by those around him, rather than through his own actions.
The simple set – an office desk and chairs – is suitably minimal and restrained, in keeping with the PM’s self-contained, low-key introversion.
At times the pacing feels a little slow, but perhaps this is merely a reflection of the more formal modes of discourse employed in the 1940s. The end of the first half seems oddly timed, too, with no one in the audience realising that it was the interval. It might have made more sense to suspend the action at a more distinctive moment, but this is necessarily a subtle narrative without instances of high drama. That’s not a criticism, either: what it lacks in terms of big gestures, it more than makes up for with charm.
Where the show excels is in its mild but insightful wit. The scene in which the Attlees meet King George VI (Clive Greenwood) is masterful in its articulation of social awkwardness. And while A Modest Little Man works as an effective history lesson, it’s also highly informative about the world we live in now. There are shrewd observations with obvious resonance in contemporary politics, such as a nod to the foolishness of holding a referendum. Plus, there’s plenty of scheming, as you’d expect, with key members of the Cabinet debating the suitability of the leader while attempting to further their own careers. Some things, it seems, never change.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR SPY IN THE STALLS.
As the title makes clear, Attlee was not an outlandish figure. Entirely at odds with Winston Churchill’s flamboyant manner (and indeed the kinds of world leaders we see today), his seemingly cautious approach steered clear of personality-based politics and was driven by firm ideological beliefs.
His understated nature presents a challenge for writer Francis Beckett and lead actor Roger Rose, who place this “little mouse” at the centre of the narrative. It’s a testament to their success that a man of so few words (except when discussing cricket) begins to emerge as quietly fascinating.
Portrayed brilliantly by Lynne O’Sullivan, Clement’s devoted wife Violet is far less reticent than her husband and partially narrates the play. The rest of the small cast prove to be hugely versatile, too. Churchill is memorably evoked by Silas Hawkins, one of three actors each tasked with handling multiple parts. The clever writing slowly reveals Attlee through the affection, respect and frustration felt by those around him, rather than through his own actions.
The simple set – an office desk and chairs – is suitably minimal and restrained, in keeping with the PM’s self-contained, low-key introversion.
At times the pacing feels a little slow, but perhaps this is merely a reflection of the more formal modes of discourse employed in the 1940s. The end of the first half seems oddly timed, too, with no one in the audience realising that it was the interval. It might have made more sense to suspend the action at a more distinctive moment, but this is necessarily a subtle narrative without instances of high drama. That’s not a criticism, either: what it lacks in terms of big gestures, it more than makes up for with charm.
Where the show excels is in its mild but insightful wit. The scene in which the Attlees meet King George VI (Clive Greenwood) is masterful in its articulation of social awkwardness. And while A Modest Little Man works as an effective history lesson, it’s also highly informative about the world we live in now. There are shrewd observations with obvious resonance in contemporary politics, such as a nod to the foolishness of holding a referendum. Plus, there’s plenty of scheming, as you’d expect, with key members of the Cabinet debating the suitability of the leader while attempting to further their own careers. Some things, it seems, never change.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR SPY IN THE STALLS.
Thursday, 12 September 2019
12/09/19: Working: A Musical, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
Studs Terkel (1912–2008) was a highly respected American writer and broadcaster who published several collections of oral histories. His conversations with “ordinary people” revealed profound social, economic and personal truths about the times. Adapted by Stephen Schwartz and Nina Faso, this show brings to life the author’s 1974 book, Working, with spoken narratives and songs that illuminate gritty accounts of trying to earn a living in the USA.
The cast of eight actor/singers play multiple parts across professions as diverse as truck driver, nanny, hedge fund manager, prostitute, stone mason and flight attendant. Their narratives range from funny or quirky (a UPS delivery man startling attractive women for his own entertainment) to desperately sad (a woman enduring mind-numbing monotony on a factory assembly line). Cleverly, the script both documents a lost way of life and – bravely building upon Terkel’s source material – offers subtle updates to more recent working scenarios by utilising innovations such as e-mail and mobile phones. At the centre of these varied tales are the same recurring questions. How much should your job define you? What does it mean to spend so much of your existence in employment? And do we have a right to expect our work to be satisfactory and meaningful?
The stage set is an ingenious split-level scaffold structure resembling part of a construction site. This is compartmentalised to allow each actor their own designated area within it. The brilliant direction by Amanda Noar allows for these spaces to be suddenly spotlit or thrown into darkness, emphasising parallels or curious juxtapositions between workers as their confessions and experiences begin to dovetail.
A four-piece band led by musical director Jamie Noar embrace a diverse range of styles and moods, from big, brassy anthems to restrained, low-key heartbreakers. The stand-out moments are numerous, but the most memorable include “Just a Housewife” sung by Lara Beth-Sas and “It’s an Art” performed by Hannah Cheetham as a proud waitress determined to recognise the value in her role.
In parts, it’s hugely emotional – particularly when the full ensemble unite to complement each other’s stories and songs. You really feel you’ve had an insight into other people’s lives. Terkel’s gift was to show sufficient empathy for his interview subjects to bring out the very best in them. It’s a great credit to this production that it does the same.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR SPY IN THE STALLS.
The cast of eight actor/singers play multiple parts across professions as diverse as truck driver, nanny, hedge fund manager, prostitute, stone mason and flight attendant. Their narratives range from funny or quirky (a UPS delivery man startling attractive women for his own entertainment) to desperately sad (a woman enduring mind-numbing monotony on a factory assembly line). Cleverly, the script both documents a lost way of life and – bravely building upon Terkel’s source material – offers subtle updates to more recent working scenarios by utilising innovations such as e-mail and mobile phones. At the centre of these varied tales are the same recurring questions. How much should your job define you? What does it mean to spend so much of your existence in employment? And do we have a right to expect our work to be satisfactory and meaningful?
The stage set is an ingenious split-level scaffold structure resembling part of a construction site. This is compartmentalised to allow each actor their own designated area within it. The brilliant direction by Amanda Noar allows for these spaces to be suddenly spotlit or thrown into darkness, emphasising parallels or curious juxtapositions between workers as their confessions and experiences begin to dovetail.
A four-piece band led by musical director Jamie Noar embrace a diverse range of styles and moods, from big, brassy anthems to restrained, low-key heartbreakers. The stand-out moments are numerous, but the most memorable include “Just a Housewife” sung by Lara Beth-Sas and “It’s an Art” performed by Hannah Cheetham as a proud waitress determined to recognise the value in her role.
In parts, it’s hugely emotional – particularly when the full ensemble unite to complement each other’s stories and songs. You really feel you’ve had an insight into other people’s lives. Terkel’s gift was to show sufficient empathy for his interview subjects to bring out the very best in them. It’s a great credit to this production that it does the same.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR SPY IN THE STALLS.
Wednesday, 5 June 2019
05/06/19: Flat Out, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
Flat Out is a good, old-fashioned farce. It details an afternoon in the lives of a small group of people in a prestigious but mice-infested South Kensington flat (hence the pun of the title) during the Brexit-centric month of March 2019.
The plot is too much of a tangled shaggy-dog story to summarise sensibly, but it begins with an illicit tryst between dental hygienist Angela (Jennifer Matter) and lawyer Giles (Richard Earl). It certainly grabbed everyone’s attention when, in the opening seconds, Angela removed her coat and dress to reveal a skimpy Ann Summers outfit. But the couple’s anticipated pleasure is endlessly delayed by a chain of unexpected visitors.
In keeping with the style of a typical farce, bad luck, coincidence, misunderstandings and mistaken identity drive a sequence of increasingly absurd and improbable events. The comedy comes from the thickening web of inexplicable statements and actions that only the audience can understand. Jennifer Selway’s exceedingly clever writing is maximised by a cast able to expertly tease out every laugh possible from each other’s escalating misfortunes.
It’s very much a London show, with an obvious fondness for the city demonstrated by references to its locations, landmarks and public transport. There’s a fair amount of satire, too, with nods to gender politics, greedy estate agents, social media and what it means to be rich or poor in a bitterly divided Britain. While the Brexit theme is a subtle one, it’s nevertheless an important thread running through the narrative.
Timing all those entrances and exits so perfectly can’t have been easy, but the coordination of this complicated, often highly physical comedy is superbly managed by director John Plews and the entire Ovation company. And the ingenious, economical set design by Emily Bestow made it possible for the various comings and goings within the flat to interact seamlessly as doors opened and closed and windows were hastily clambered in and out of.
The way the various loose ends are resolved at the end makes for a hugely satisfying conclusion to a play that balances hilarity with a sophisticated look at the way we live.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR THE SPY IN THE STALLS.
The plot is too much of a tangled shaggy-dog story to summarise sensibly, but it begins with an illicit tryst between dental hygienist Angela (Jennifer Matter) and lawyer Giles (Richard Earl). It certainly grabbed everyone’s attention when, in the opening seconds, Angela removed her coat and dress to reveal a skimpy Ann Summers outfit. But the couple’s anticipated pleasure is endlessly delayed by a chain of unexpected visitors.
In keeping with the style of a typical farce, bad luck, coincidence, misunderstandings and mistaken identity drive a sequence of increasingly absurd and improbable events. The comedy comes from the thickening web of inexplicable statements and actions that only the audience can understand. Jennifer Selway’s exceedingly clever writing is maximised by a cast able to expertly tease out every laugh possible from each other’s escalating misfortunes.
It’s very much a London show, with an obvious fondness for the city demonstrated by references to its locations, landmarks and public transport. There’s a fair amount of satire, too, with nods to gender politics, greedy estate agents, social media and what it means to be rich or poor in a bitterly divided Britain. While the Brexit theme is a subtle one, it’s nevertheless an important thread running through the narrative.
Timing all those entrances and exits so perfectly can’t have been easy, but the coordination of this complicated, often highly physical comedy is superbly managed by director John Plews and the entire Ovation company. And the ingenious, economical set design by Emily Bestow made it possible for the various comings and goings within the flat to interact seamlessly as doors opened and closed and windows were hastily clambered in and out of.
The way the various loose ends are resolved at the end makes for a hugely satisfying conclusion to a play that balances hilarity with a sophisticated look at the way we live.
ORIGINALLY REVIEWED FOR THE SPY IN THE STALLS.
Wednesday, 30 August 2017
30/08/17: 9 to 5: The Musical, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
Nine to Five was a 1980 film starring Dolly Parton, Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin. Dolly wrote the theme song and then contributed additional lyrics for a theatrical version of the story, which became a Broadway musical in 2009 and now comes to Highgate. This was the debut performance – a preview night – but aside from a few sound glitches there were no signs of any first-night problems. The plot is straightforward: three female office workers seek revenge on their "sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot" of a boss.
Produced by Joseph Hodges, who also produced Breaking Up Is Hard to Do (which I enjoyed at the same theatre in April of this year), the show is funny and sharp. The simple but ingenious staging makes the most of "office furniture". Three desks (on wheels) are constantly moved around, rotated and realigned to suit whatever structure the set requires – from a dancing platform to a mortuary slab.
The three female leads – Amanda Coutts (Judy), Louise Olley (Doralee) and Pippa Winslow (Violet) – are entirely convincing and have powerful voices. They needed them, too, as the band was so loud that it often threatened to drown out the singing. Also superb was Samantha Giffard playing the bafflingly lovestruck Roz.
The songs by Dolly Parton really make the show, from the classic title track to the perfectly judged "Backwoods Barbie". Turning things on their head there's also a clever composition called "5 to 9", about the emotions felt between work hours.
All this, and a positive message about gender equality and realising your potential. Sadly, in 2017 (with the BBC pay gap scandal still fresh in people’s minds) the theme of sexism in the workplace is every bit as relevant as it was in 1980. It's a credit to this show that it tackles this "issue" with such humour and intelligence.
Produced by Joseph Hodges, who also produced Breaking Up Is Hard to Do (which I enjoyed at the same theatre in April of this year), the show is funny and sharp. The simple but ingenious staging makes the most of "office furniture". Three desks (on wheels) are constantly moved around, rotated and realigned to suit whatever structure the set requires – from a dancing platform to a mortuary slab.
The three female leads – Amanda Coutts (Judy), Louise Olley (Doralee) and Pippa Winslow (Violet) – are entirely convincing and have powerful voices. They needed them, too, as the band was so loud that it often threatened to drown out the singing. Also superb was Samantha Giffard playing the bafflingly lovestruck Roz.
The songs by Dolly Parton really make the show, from the classic title track to the perfectly judged "Backwoods Barbie". Turning things on their head there's also a clever composition called "5 to 9", about the emotions felt between work hours.
All this, and a positive message about gender equality and realising your potential. Sadly, in 2017 (with the BBC pay gap scandal still fresh in people’s minds) the theme of sexism in the workplace is every bit as relevant as it was in 1980. It's a credit to this show that it tackles this "issue" with such humour and intelligence.
Saturday, 17 June 2017
17/06/17: Miss Kiddy and the Cads, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
On the way up the hill to the Gatehouse pub, we saw Ray Davies and a lady friend walk past us: a good omen for the night ahead.
This show was on for just one evening in Highgate, so I was pleased to catch it. The premise was that the band are a 1945 group of American small-time crooks and lowlifes. They perform entirely in character with the singer, Miss Kiddy, linking the songs with wisecracks and brief observations regarding her life and her band. The twist is that the Cads play radically reinvented 1940s jazz-swing versions of pop songs including "Billie Jean" (Michael Jackson), "Call Me Maybe" (Carly Rae Jepsen), "Can't Get You Out of My Head" (Kylie Minogue), "Honky Tonk Women" (Rolling Stones), "Let’s Dance" (David Bowie), "Song 2" (Blur), 'Wannabe" (Spice Girls) and "Wonderwall" (Oasis). Improbable, but it works.
It's impressive that Miss Kiddy sings all-out for nearly two hours, not even pausing once to sip a drink on this swelteringly hot June night. The Cads are joined on stage by "Little Missy", a tap dancer whose feet kept to and enhanced the rhythms. (I have a pet cat called Missy, so they won me over immediately with that name.)
I liked the way they played with the retro angle – sometimes they were consistent with it; other times they didn't bother. So Prince's "1999" was reworked to have them "party like it's 1945", while "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus ended up as "Vintage Dirtbag" (with Iron Maiden replaced by Frank Sinatra). But when they played “The Power of Love" (Huey Lewis and The News), they left in the "don't need no credit card" line and retained the lyric about "listening to Marvin all night long" in "True" (Spandau Ballet), even though Marvin Gaye would have only been six years old at that time. Clearly none of it was to be taken too seriously, especially as Miss Kiddy took the opportunity to advertise their Facebook and Instagram pages long before social media could be invented.
The group's website describes "Show stopping vocals, stunning authentic costumes, spectacular tap dancing routines, and a story of suspense". All of this was spot-on except for the "story of suspense". The only narrative element came from Miss Kiddy's between-song chatter. The lack of a plot wasn't a problem at all – the music, costumes and tap dancing offer more than enough to sustain interest – but it was a bit misleading. This is a musical revue rather than a musical. That point aside, the show is hugely entertaining. Whoever arranged the songs deserves a great deal of credit: these imaginative new (but old) versions are playful, sophisticated and witty. They are performed with some real force behind them. It would all have fallen flat if the band didn't play so well, but they are note-perfect and tightly drilled – with a singer who never flags. The venue was packed and the crowd loved it.
This show was on for just one evening in Highgate, so I was pleased to catch it. The premise was that the band are a 1945 group of American small-time crooks and lowlifes. They perform entirely in character with the singer, Miss Kiddy, linking the songs with wisecracks and brief observations regarding her life and her band. The twist is that the Cads play radically reinvented 1940s jazz-swing versions of pop songs including "Billie Jean" (Michael Jackson), "Call Me Maybe" (Carly Rae Jepsen), "Can't Get You Out of My Head" (Kylie Minogue), "Honky Tonk Women" (Rolling Stones), "Let’s Dance" (David Bowie), "Song 2" (Blur), 'Wannabe" (Spice Girls) and "Wonderwall" (Oasis). Improbable, but it works.
It's impressive that Miss Kiddy sings all-out for nearly two hours, not even pausing once to sip a drink on this swelteringly hot June night. The Cads are joined on stage by "Little Missy", a tap dancer whose feet kept to and enhanced the rhythms. (I have a pet cat called Missy, so they won me over immediately with that name.)
I liked the way they played with the retro angle – sometimes they were consistent with it; other times they didn't bother. So Prince's "1999" was reworked to have them "party like it's 1945", while "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus ended up as "Vintage Dirtbag" (with Iron Maiden replaced by Frank Sinatra). But when they played “The Power of Love" (Huey Lewis and The News), they left in the "don't need no credit card" line and retained the lyric about "listening to Marvin all night long" in "True" (Spandau Ballet), even though Marvin Gaye would have only been six years old at that time. Clearly none of it was to be taken too seriously, especially as Miss Kiddy took the opportunity to advertise their Facebook and Instagram pages long before social media could be invented.
The group's website describes "Show stopping vocals, stunning authentic costumes, spectacular tap dancing routines, and a story of suspense". All of this was spot-on except for the "story of suspense". The only narrative element came from Miss Kiddy's between-song chatter. The lack of a plot wasn't a problem at all – the music, costumes and tap dancing offer more than enough to sustain interest – but it was a bit misleading. This is a musical revue rather than a musical. That point aside, the show is hugely entertaining. Whoever arranged the songs deserves a great deal of credit: these imaginative new (but old) versions are playful, sophisticated and witty. They are performed with some real force behind them. It would all have fallen flat if the band didn't play so well, but they are note-perfect and tightly drilled – with a singer who never flags. The venue was packed and the crowd loved it.
Sunday, 4 June 2017
04/06/16: Notes from Underground, Upstairs at the Gatehouse, Highgate
In this dazzling production by Traffic of the Stage, Fyodor Dostoyevsky's novella is updated from St. Petersburg in 1864 to London in 2017, in a way that makes perfect sense. John Cooper’s play, directed by Harry Meacher, tackles big themes including commerce, social status, identity and what it means to be a member of a society that dismisses you as a “loser” or a “weirdo”. The company put on a draining and exhilarating performance that, ultimately, is desperately sad.
Giorgio Galassi is absolutely wonderful as the existentialist narrator/protagonist (named simply "man" in the programme credits), a semi-reclusive intellectual who struggles to communicate with his peers and work colleagues. His simmering rage and frustration is articulated so convincingly that you simultaneously relate to his suffering while feeling a growing sense of revulsion at his self-absorption and verbal violence (warning: there is some very “strong” language in the show).
Anna Danshina is utterly convincing as the earnest, well-meaning and misunderstood Russian call girl Liza, who identifies with the man’s pain while battling to find a way through it. Her companion Ylenia is pitched spot-on by Olga Starpovich, especially as the night’s booze takes hold and she begins to stagger around in her high heels. Wealthy toffs Roger (Matthew Duckett) and Simon (Callum John Hill) are all too believable as the ghastly posh guys who order women like others order pizza. Finally, there’s Robert Artlett, who is versatile and believable as various waiters and barman. In fact, all but two members of the highly skilled cast effortlessly double up on smaller roles.
In today’s Sunday afternoon performance, the six actors on stage played to an audience of only 11. That’s a huge shame because this is a terrific show – one of the most emotionally involving I’ve ever seen – that's deeply intense and yet surprisingly funny. It deserves to be experienced by more people.
Anna Danshina is utterly convincing as the earnest, well-meaning and misunderstood Russian call girl Liza, who identifies with the man’s pain while battling to find a way through it. Her companion Ylenia is pitched spot-on by Olga Starpovich, especially as the night’s booze takes hold and she begins to stagger around in her high heels. Wealthy toffs Roger (Matthew Duckett) and Simon (Callum John Hill) are all too believable as the ghastly posh guys who order women like others order pizza. Finally, there’s Robert Artlett, who is versatile and believable as various waiters and barman. In fact, all but two members of the highly skilled cast effortlessly double up on smaller roles.
In today’s Sunday afternoon performance, the six actors on stage played to an audience of only 11. That’s a huge shame because this is a terrific show – one of the most emotionally involving I’ve ever seen – that's deeply intense and yet surprisingly funny. It deserves to be experienced by more people.
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