Noises Off - Review

Richmond Theatre, London

*****

Written by Michael Frayn

Directed by Lindsay Posner

Felicity Kendal, Tracy-Ann Oberman and Matthew Kelly

Every now and then the planets align to create a production of sheer theatrical genius. So it is with Lindsay Posner’s touring take on Noises Off, currently playing at the Richmond Theatre.

Firstly, the script. Michael Frayn’s farce, penned 40 years ago, is a work of meticulous accuracy as it lays down gags, plots, sub-plots and nuance as we follow a touring theatre company rehearsing and performing the play-within-a-play Nothing On, around which the narrative plays out. Without ever resorting to corniness, Frayn mines the traditional farcical components of slamming doors, trousers around ankles and plot-lines of delicious sauciness. But its not just that Frayn’s text make us laugh, it is that he also offers a witty and at times poignant critique of the human condition – from the frailty of ageing through to alcohol addiction. No word of the script is wasted in the show’s three acts that treat the audience to whirlwind tours backstage and front of house as the plot’s calamitous events unfold.

Next up, the direction. Lindsay Posner has a visionary talent who understands the structure of each of the shows countless laughlines. Posner has form with the play, having directed the Old Vic production in 2011 and it shows. This production is slick, seamless and lifts the audience with its brilliance.

Finally, the cast, and Posner has been gifted a platinum-plated company to work with. The show’s seven key roles (the six characters of Nothing On together with that show’s director) include some of the nation’s finest comic pedigree - and in Noises Off there is no real star. The play only stands on the strengths of its company working as a team, and this team is strong. Felicity Kendal, Tracy-Ann Oberman, Matthew Kelly, Alexander Hanson, Joseph Millson, Jonathan Coy and Sasha Frost are all sublime in their roles that span a raft of characters aged from 70-something through to a glamourous starlet in her 20s. Their timing is honed to split-second accuracy and it is a credit to both actors and director that the show’s physical comedy, that in lesser hands could just be a ridiculous and clumsy distraction, is here delivered to side-splitting perfection. Pepter Lunkuse and Hubert Burton complete the cast list as the stage management team of Nothing On and though less accomplished than the show’s bigger beasts, are equally faultless in their work.

After Richmond, Noises Off heads off to Brighton and then Cambridge. Don’t miss it!

Runs until October 15th, then tours

Photo credit: Nobby Clark

Follies - Review

National Theatre, London



*****


Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by James Goldman
Directed by Dominic Cooke

Follies

Eighteen months on and with a couple of well placed casting changes Stephen Sondheim’s Follies returns to the National Theatre with the excellence of this devastating musical a breath of fresh air amidst a slew of disappointing recent openings in the capital. What sets Follies apart from so many other current shows is the meticulous detail that Sondheim weaves into his lyrics and melodies. There is an almost Shakespearean genius to the man, such is his ability to pare the essence of love, lovelessness and the human condition down to the barest, bleakest of bones.

Of Follies’ two leading ladies Janie Dee reprises Phyllis, as Joanna Riding takes over as Sally for this revival. Dee has had time to both sharpen Phyllis’ talons and harden her carapace, her every nuance carefully honed by Cooke’s perceptive direction. Dee’s delivery of Sondheim’s words wield a merciless scalpel into the failures of husband Ben. Phyllis’ big solo Could I Leave You? Proving almost bloody in its brutal dissection of her marriage. Dee savours the wit that Sondheim has bestowed upon her character. Acting through song does not get better than this.

Alexander Hanson, Janie Dee and Christine Tucker

Follies was already a five star show back in 2017. With Riding onboard however and with the elegant fragility that she brings to Sally, a level of credible characterisation that was missing on this production’s first outing, the whole piece is lifted to a higher plane. Sally is one of the toughest gigs in the canon, a faded beauty decayed into a desperate housewife, glamorously bewigged and yet ultimately a woman who on the inside, is crumbing as much as the derelict theatre around her. Serving up pathos without a hint of maudlin sentimentality Riding's heartbreaking rendition of In Buddy’s Eyes is a lament to a love that has long since dwindled - while the mental devastation of Losing My Mind scorches in its revelation of her pain. And as she rips the wig from her head during that song’s closing bars, we gasp at the brute ugliness of her depression.

Ian McIntosh, Joanna Riding and Gemma Sutton

Peter Forbes’ Buddy Plummer has grown too. There is a sleazy mania to his performance that is as abhorrent as it is compelling, especially in his Willy Loman-esque take on The Right Girl.  Alexander Hanson’s Ben offers up a brief glance into the rise and, more pronouncedly, the fall of an oleaginous statesman. Hanson performs well, but there is a tad more bedding into the role that is needed to fully convince.

The show’s supporting roles are all individual treats. Tracie Bennett, ‘still here’ from 2017 as Carlotta, remains perhaps the most diminutive of powerhouse voices to be found in the West End. Oozing classy, sassy cynicism Bennett comes close to stopping the show. She is matched though by her colleagues. Claire Moore is every inch, the most believable Broadway Baby; Felicity Lott and Alison Langer enchant with One More Kiss; Dawn Hope leads the most phenomenal tap line (and credit here to Bill Deamer’s immaculately conceived and drilled choreography throughout) in Who’s That Woman - and a further nod to Bennett who, in a display of sheer bloody stamina segues seamlessly from that number into the demands of I’m Still Here. 

Dawn Hope leads the line

The ghost quartet of the leading roles are marvellous with the ever-excellent Gemma Sutton, together with Christine Tucker, Ian McIntosh and Harry Hepple all offering the necessary passion, scorn and incredulity to make their ghost roles take flight.

It is not just Follies’ writing, but also the National’s lavish production values that define this show as a gem. Vicki Mortimer’s designs deftly blend the decay of the Weismann Theatre into the glamour of the ghosted numbers, with the subtle magnificence of the Olivier’s drum revolve taking the show through both the battered Broadway building as well as the decades, almost imperceptibly. Nigel Lilley's 20-piece orchestra is a soaring delight throughout.

A musical can be judged on narrative, music, song and dance, with Follies scoring top marks across the board. This revival offers an unmissable glimpse into the heaven and hell of humanity.

Runs until 11th May

Photo credit: Johan Persson

42nd Street - Review

Theatre du Chatelet, Paris


*****

Music by Harry Warren
Lyrics by Al Dubin
Book by Michael Stewart and Mark Bramble
Directed and choreographed by Stephen Mear

Dan Burton and the Company

There can be few more impressive openings to a musical than Stephen Mear's treatment of 42nd Street. With the orchestra (magnificent under Gareth Valentine's baton) having played the overture’s first few pages the curtain rises teasingly, just a yard or so, to reveal a stage full of dancing feet tapping out the show's melodies. With a company numbering nigh on 40, the sight and sound of this unexpected treat, performed with pinpoint, perfectly drilled precision, is simply breathtaking. Rarely has a show set its stall out so impressively in the overture and then gone on to exceed expectations as the evening plays out.

The story behind 42nd Street is a classic, corny even, meta-musical fairytale. It is 1933 and Peggy Sawyer, a young and gifted dancer from Allentown, Pennsylvania who has no showbiz experience wants to be cast in the new Broadway show Pretty Lady. Its genius but tyrannical director Julian Marsh is on his uppers after the Wall Street crash and in desperate need of a hit. Marsh overlooks Sawyer, and casts Dorothy Brock, a leading lady of years gone by as his star because Brock's sugar-daddy boyfriend has bankrolled Pretty Lady's production costs.

As love rivalries smoulder amongst the cast, Brock breaks her leg at the last minute. As Marsh is about to close the show, the ensemble persuade Marsh him to choose the talented Sawyer as Brock's replacement and of course she and the show become an instant hit.

Whilst the story may be corny, Mear who directs and choreographs has demanded production values that are anything but. Emerging talent Monique Young plays Sawyer and she brings a coquettish insouciance to the role matched only by her sensational footwork, handling her vocal solos with a confident charm and magnificent poise.

Sharing the honours as the show's other leading lady is Ria Jones' Brock. Mear knows Jones well (she famously understudied Glenn Close in his Sunset Boulevard earlier this year) and his understanding of the woman's gift has delivered yet another example of on-stage excellence. Jones hams up Brock wonderfully when she has to, yet shows off the full Rolls-Royce potential of her vocal majesty with her interpretations of I Only Have Eyes For You and the act one closer of the show's title number. As an aside, Jones is one of those occasional performers on London's cabaret scene who truly merits the description "unmissable".

Dan Burton who plays Sawyer's love interest Billy Lawlor is another of Mear's regular ingénues, last seen in the West End's Gypsy. Arguably the best of his generation in musical theatre dance, Burton has a grace in his movement that has to be seen to be believed alongside perfectly pitched, mellifluous vocals. Alexander Hanson's Marsh completes the quartet of key roles and he brings a believable gravitas to a part that can so easily become a cliché in less talented hands. Elsewhere in this magnificent company, Jennie Dale (yet another Mear regular) shines in support as Maggie Jones.

Dan Burton and Ensemble

It’s not just the cast that make this production quite so special. Valentine's orchestra is lavishly furnished, while Peter McKintosh's sets display an imaginative detail that can all too often these days be reduced to an economy of projected images, but here at the Theatre du Chatelet, are displayed in fabulous constructions of steel and backdrops.

And then of course there's the show's famously big numbers. Keep Young and Beautiful, We're in the Money and Lullaby of Broadway are done to a perfect turn. Mear fills McKintosh's stagings (and Philadelphia's Broad Street Station, complete with massive working clock stuns on its own) with a plethora of bodies that define flawless synchronised harmony.

The Chatelet’s producers have lavishly and tastefully invested a fortune in their cast and creatives and it shows. If you can beg, borrow or steal a ticket to Paris, go. This production of 42nd Street is quite simply musical theatre perfection - there's no better show to be seen this side of the Atlantic.

Runs until 8th January 2017

The Truth - Review

Wyndhams Theatre, London


****


Written by Florian Zeller
Directed by Lindsay Posner

Alexander Hanson and Frances O'Connor

Florian Zeller is a precocious writing talent. The Truth is his third play to enthral London theatre goers in a year. Zeller's drama The Father reduced some viewers to tears with its' poignant and painful depiction of dementia. The Truth, a modern day farce about lies and adultery, brings tears of laughter.

Laurence (Tanya Franks) is married to Michel (Alexander Hanson) who is having an affair with Alice (Frances O'Connor) who is married to Michel's best friend Paul (Robert Portal). We watch in fascination as the reality of the characters' lives implode. Who is telling the truth? What are the lies? The audience is cleverly manipulated as the story unfolds. Zeller has certainly tapped into the male psyche concerning adultery but what makes this interesting is that the female characters are as complicit (or are they?) as the men. 

Alexander Hanson starts the proceedings, yanking up his underpants and meandering the stage like an impatient John Wayne. Never has the search for a sock been so amusing. Throughout, Hanson moves around the stage, a caged creature, whilst the other characters have a centred quality and often, a stillness. The simple, effective direction by Lindsay Posner keeps the action clean, letting the dialogue shine, lines ricocheting around the auditorium. 

Lizzie Clachan's stylish, minimalist set is highly effective in its simplicity. A pale, streamlined background of rooms that change ever so subtly; no doors are used as associated with our expectation of traditional farce. There is restrained embellishment, beautifully allowing the focus onto the actors.

Frances O'Connor has a regal quality in her sharp stilettos and brings a disarming coldness to Alice. For a play steeped in sex, O'Connor's Alice is calculating & practical, her sensual side kept under-wraps in her skin tight designer dresses. Tanya Franks' Laurence appears stoic, a perfect portrayal of middle class normality. She has a payoff in the final scene which she plays beautifully, the veneer that had been held together throughout, crumbling before our eyes. 

Robert Portal's Paul, has strength and conviction but an under lying sadness. Portal's body language and broad-chested stance belie his internal questioning. His confidence seems contrived and Portal keeps the audience questioning to the very end of Paul's motives. 

Throughout the 90 minutes duration (without an interval, which works perfectly) I found myself constantly drawn to Hanson's Michel. Even as a loathsome narcissist, he never fails to have immense charm and aplomb. His increasingly nervous, nuanced, suppressed manic philanderer is the glue that holds the whole piece together. It is a quite mesmeric performance which deserves as big an audience as possible.

The Truth packs the entertainment punch of a really good old fashioned farce, though Zeller has brought the genre into 2016 with barbed words, stating uncomfortable truths: with lies dressed in the hubris of modern day self belief. At one point, a character asks if they are in a comedy or a tragedy. And there is the truth - the play is both but manages to keep the tragedy of this predicament firmly within the comedy genre. This is darn good theatre, highly recommended. Go see it!

Booking until 3rd September

Reviewed by Andy Bee