Chess - Review

Coliseum, London


*****



Music by Benny Andersson & Björn Ulvaeus
Lyrics by Tim Rice
Book by Richard Nelson
Directed by Laurence Connor

Tim Howar and Michael Ball

Chess, born out of the collaboration of Tim Rice’s wit and the musical genius of ABBA’s Bjorn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson has long been regarded as a fusion of 1980s culture, kitsch and cliché – and for the last 30 odd years, London’s producers have shied away from reviving a show that once dominated the West End.

But for one month only and backed by a budget that itself reflects a fusion of subsidy and commerce, producers Michael Grade, Michael Linnit and the ENO have assembled a cornucopia of talent and technology, that blasts the show into the 21st century.

The plot revolves around the once-glamorous world of the international chess circuit and, in a metaphor that for so much of the last 70 years was true to life, reflects the conflict between the USA and (what was) the USSR, or Russia in more modern parlance. Michael Ball is Anatoly the Russian Grand Master. Opposite him, Tim Howar is Freddie Trumper his American counterpart, while in the wings are Cassidy Janson’s Florence (Trumper’s second) and Alexandra Burke who plays Anatoly’s wife Svetlana.

As the tale unfolds, classic East v West tropes are laid bare – though from a political perspective the programme notes comment on the production’s timeliness, with today’s relations between the West and Russia turning cold again. Some may argue that they were never really warm, but it nonetheless remains a breath of fresh air from London’s theatrical community to see that in 2018 it is still Russia, rather than the USA’s current administration, that poses a more significant threat.

Rice’s original story boils the politics down to a neat (if implausible) romance that develops between Anatoly and Florence. Along the way there are tantrums from the American, a defection, and in Michael Ball’s rendition of Anthem, surely up there as one of the best Act One closing numbers ever, a spine-tingling reminder of the beauty and passion that can truly be evoked by a love for one’s country. 

There’s actually so much more to this musical theatre extravaganza. Lavishly deployed projections and digital imagery serve not only as backdrops – but also to broadcast much of the musical’s highlights to the massive, ingenious displays. The multi-screen styling is multi-purposed, for not only do the (on-stage) video cameras serve to highlight the televised nature of the much of the narrative, they also enable those in the Coliseum’s cheap seats (correction, there are no cheap seats in the Coliseum) to have a decent view of the action.

Some of the show’s songs are among the finest in the modern canon. The second half kicks off with Howar’s One Night In Bangkok, here transformed into a festival of circus skills from the ensemble along with stunning video work from Terry Scruby. The musical highlight of the show’s impending endgame is the powerfully poignant ballad I Know Him So Well, sung by Florence and Svetlana. The projected live video of Cassidy and Burke hints at a wonderful throwback to the BBC’s Top Of The Pops – though younger readers may rather conclude that this show is emphatically putting the X-Factor into musical theatre.

Howar has a massive number late on with Pity The Child, an excoriating study of childhood neglect. Done to perfection, this song should make hairs stand on end – Howar is good, for sure, but he needs to dig a little deeper. 

Credit though to Lewis Osborne on guitar. It cannot be that often that the (80 strong!) ENO Orchestra get to deliver such a rock-heavy score and they do it here, under John Rigby’s baton, magnificently. Osborne’s riffs in Pity The Child are sensational.

Amidst the talent and technology, there’s time for some tongue in cheek too, with an Alpine-clad musician knocking out Thank You For The Music on the accordion, as a backdrop to one of the mountain-top scenes.

Under Stephen Mear's visionary choreography, the dance is spectacular. Mear moulding his company into routines that are imaginative and provocative. A nod to Fosse in the bowler-hatted, umbrella wielding (oh-so British) Embassy Lament is a touch of wonderful flair.

If you can get (or afford) a ticket, go and see this show, if only because the score is unlikely to be played quite so sumptuously ever again. The whole production makes for an evening of stunning musical theatre.

Runs until 2nd June
Photo credit: Brinkhoff Mögenburg

Mamma Mia - Review

Novello Theatre, London

*****

Music and lyrics by Benny Anderson and Björn Ulvaeus
Book by Catherine Johnson
Directed by Phyllida Lloyd

l-r Kim Ismay, Dianne Pilkington and Rebecca Lock in the finale

Mamma Mia the first (and arguably the best) of the latter-day juke box musical genre, was born more than 15 years ago from the timeless legacy of Sweden's most famous export, the 1970's supergroup Abba. Sometimes schmaltzy for sure, but Benny Anderson and Björn Ulvaeus' lyrics speak of ordinary lives, of simple relationships and of familiar loves and losses. Most of human life is wrapped up in one or t’other of their songs and it is a testament to Catherine Johnson that her book, woven around a selection of Abba’s greatest hits, works so well.

Superficially, the narrative follows a gloriously honeyed and nigh on implausible tale of 20 yo Sophie trying to find her dad amongst a possible three of mum Donna's former fellas. The show is of course a modern day fairy-tale, for scratch the surface and the emotions that underlie Sophie's quest are raw, relevant and above all recognisable. Her sometimes angst at having grown up fatherless strikes a contemporary chime, whilst Donna's gloriously feisty and strong independence is a sincere carapace that nonetheless surrounds a post-modern woman still craving love.

Johnson is a genius, for as well as creating a mother and child whose arcs we care about, she adds two of Donna's outrageous old friends Tanya and Rosie for chick-flick comedy. Stir in the three potentially paternal old flames of Donna, who each have to consider that they may well have sired Sophie before unwittingly abandoning a young mum to be, and its all rather cheesy but actually rather brilliant. There’s some smashing ensemble work too with Anthony van Laast’s choreography still proving that young men in latex and spandex, with flippers in place of tap shoes, make for a dance routine that will never age.

And what of this most recent cast? Dianne Pilkington's Donna gets the blend of sassy with mumsy just right, coaxing "ah's" from the audience with I Do, I Do, having previously shredded the heart strings of most parents in the house singing the painfully perceptive Slipping Through My Fingers. Alice Stokoe makes her West End debut with an impressive and slick soprano Sophie. Kim Ismay and Rebecca Lock’s Tanya and Rosie respectively provide (most of) the evening’s laughs, Ismay in particular proving why she has defined her man-eating cougar over the years. Amongst the dads (all top chaps, to a man) the chiseled presence of Richard Trinder’s Sam Carmichael adds an almost believable credibility to the wonderfully ridiculous fairy-tale ending.

There aren't too many shows around that, sixteen years on, can still pack a Monday night theatre. The audience ranged from school parties through to middle-aged business men and grinning septuagenarians all blended in with a selection of tourists that outmatched the United Nations for variety. Mamma Mia remains flawless entertainment and another example of London's West End at its very best.

Booking until 2015 at the Novello Theatre

Chess - Review

Union Theatre, London

***

Music by Benny Andersson and Bjorn Ulvaeus
Lyrics by Tim Rice
Co directed by Christopher Howell and Steven Harris

Sarah Galbraith

The Union Theatre production of  Chess marks a welcome return to London for this 1980s hallmarked show,  dreamed up and written by Tim Rice (who endorses this revival) with musical life breathed into it by the ABBA men, Benny Anderson and Bjorn Ulvaeus.  Set against a frosty Cold War backdrop, the politics of the piece now seem as dated as the 1956 Hungarian collapse was to the show's creators, yet as well as proving to be a complicated history lesson with a plot line that holds more twists than a Le Carre novel, Chess was always an exciting piece of theatre with some hauntingly passionate melodies.

 

If all had gone to plan for this show  it would be garnering five stars, simply because when it's good, it's bloody brilliant. The ensemble voice work in particular is inspiring and beautifully co-ordinated. When the evening is not at its five star best though, it smacks of mediocrity. Craig Rhys Barlow's Arbiter could act but barely sustain a note, whilst Nadim Naaman as the Soviet champion Anatoly Sergievsky, disappointed too. Granted, his is a tough role to play requiring a combination of majestic presence and cold Russian inscrutability, but Naaman fails to get the mix right. Anthem, arguably one of the best act one closers ever, should leave one rushing for the bar desperate for a drink to calm the nerves that ought to have been reduced to quivers of emotion. Not so in this version, but with a month or so left on the run it should still be possible for the actor to step up through the gears in this song, as its a number that demands to be one of the musical’s high spots.  As the American player Frederick Trumper, Tim Oxbrow also has a torrid first half. Notwithstanding his electric acting, his voice initially just doesn’t match the role. To Oxbrow’s credit he redeems himself after the break, warming up with a fun One Night In Bangkok and giving a truly blistering rendition of Pity The Child.

So, what was outstanding about this show? Two words - Sarah Galbraith. This talented Jersey Girl has settled in London and our gain is the Garden State's loss. As Florence Vassy, a Hungarian child émigré from 1956, her character is complex and through the course of the show she is destined to love both of the opposing chess masters. Galbraith never falters, going on to perfectly capture the emotional fragility of her character’s torment in the final act at the uncertainty that surrounds the fate of her father. The actress' poise is perfect and her voice has the most measured yet proportionate strength to be found off West End. The cast are not mic’d for this show, yet Galbraith’s power combined with her impeccable diction (is she really an American?) seemed to have an amplification of her own.  Her Heaven Help My Heart was magnificent whilst her Nobody’s Side bore an exquisite delicacy. Natasha J Barnes who plays Svetlana Sergievskaya, Anatoly’s betrayed wife, is also blessed with a wonderful tone, most notable in Someone Else’s Story, but in what was actually a beautifully sung duet with Galbraith, the signature melody I Know Him So Well, the American actress’ vocal perfection and power proved almost unfair competition for the Briton and it is Galbraith’s reclamation of Anthem at the show’s conclusion that restores that number’s power and ensures one leaves the theatre with spine still re-assuringly tingling.

Gillian Kirkpatrick is Alexandra Molokova, a nasty KGB stooge that interestingly is usually a man's role. Kirkpatrick’s performance was a masterclass in playing a key supporting character that draws from her recent terrific Beggarwoman in the Chichester Festival Sweeney Todd. Her manipulative malevolence never falters throughout, rising superbly to have the audience in the palm of her hand for her big number, The Soviet Machine. Also consistently excellent is Natalie McQueen’s preening US TV presenter Angela St Angelo, with accent, poise and gleaming teeth perfectly honed for the part. Neil Stewart’s Walter de Courcey, Molokova’s opposite number from the USA is another fine example of a supporting role wonderfully delivered, whilst the brief tap dancing comic interlude of Wayne Rogers and Katie Bradley provides a witty take on the stereotyped British civil servant.

Ben Roger’s lighting, notwithstanding its clever ( if rather noisy) technology could have been better plotted. During act one’s Merano, Natalie McQueen is given to singing some solo lines, centre stage, in virtual darkness and this requires urgent attention.  Sioned Jones does some sterling work with the company’s accents and Simon Lambert directs his 8 piece band with panache, effectively bringing out the richness of the music from a score that was written for a much larger orchestra. Some of the melodies, in particular Chess Game #1, have an ethereal quality that Lambert cleverly extracts from the Swedes’ compositions.

Sasha Regan has produced an entertaining and at times thrilling night out. Whilst any show can be no more than the sum of its components, this production’s strengths dazzle and do outweigh its flaws. See it, to understand the flavour of an era past and the excellence of some wonderful performances and some fabulous tunes.

Runs to March 16th