Ballet Shoes - Review

National Theatre, London

****

Written by Noel Streatfeild

In a new version by Kendall Feaver

Daisy Sequerra and Justin Salinger

Noel Streatfeild’s Ballet Shoes is given an enchanting makeover by the National Theatre. In Kendall Feaver’s adaptation, Streatfeild’s tale of the three orphaned/foundling Fossil sisters, who are fused into a family by Malcolm an eccentric but gifted paeleontologjst who places them in the care of his adopted great niece Sylvia becomes a vivid drama.

The themes of self-belief and familial love run strong through the classic yarn and under Katy Rudd’s direction and Frankie Bradshaw’s impressive designs that fill the Olivier stage, the play makes for classy modern theatre.

On the night of this review understudy Katie Singh stepped effortlessly into the role of Sylvia. Playing (Great Uncle) Malcolm together with a host of other inspirational roles throughout the evening is Justin Salinger - who provides just enough quirky unconventionality to hint at something divine in his on stage presence.

The show however belongs to the three performers playing the adolescent sisters Yanexi Enriquez, Grace Saif and Daisy Sequerra, with all three carrying the story magnificently. Their supporting company are equally strong.

In a show that has dance in its veins, Ellen Kane’s choreography displays her usual creative excellence.

The play goes at a pace through the novel, at times perhaps for younger audience members, a little too fast in show that lasts more than two and a half hours. But this is a thoughtful family show, beautifully acted and imaginatively staged.

Runs until 22nd February

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

Why Am I So Single? - Review

Garrick Theatre, London

***

Written by Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss

Directed by Lucy Moss

Co-directed and choreographed by Ellen Kane

Leesa Tulley and company

It’s quite something for writers to have a brace of shows running simultaneously in the West End, but with Six at the Vaudeville and now Why Am I So Single? round the corner at the Garrick, Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss have achieved that double.

Six was famously created around the wives of Henry VIII, lending itself to a tightly written book based on a rich chapter of world-famous history. It enjoyed a stratospheric and deserved rise from humble beginnings on the fringe to the globally touring phenomenon of modern musical theatre that it is today. Why Am I So Single? however, drawn from the lives of Marlow and Moss themselves, makes for a narrative that’s lightweight and superficial in comparison. While the pair's close platonic friendship and respective life stories may be touching, they do not support a 2 1/2 hour show that itself could do with a trim of at least 30 minutes.

Where Stephen Sondheim once brilliantly explored the angsts of being single in Company, Marlow and Moss offer little more than an immaculately produced evening of self-indulgent introspection and navel-gazing. Written by anyone other than these now acclaimed wunderkinder the production may well have struggled to gain traction and backing - that is if it were even conceived at all - let alone this big fancy West End opening that frames its commercial rollout.  

Amidst countless references to classic musicals and frequently smug breakouts across the fourth wall, Nancy and Oliver (played by Leesa Tulley and Jo Foster) are Marlow and Moss’s leading characters, effectively their onstage "fictional" representations. The show is technically whip-smart and while its lyrics may be repetitive and its melodies forgettable, both Tulley and Foster sparkle with performing excellence and gorgeous voices. Noah Thomas as their mutual friend Artie is also at the top of his game.

Ellen Kane’s choreography and co-direction is another of the evening’s stunning treats with her company drilled to a glorious visual perfection.  Atop the stage, Chris Ma’s eight-piece band are equally slick.

The storyline may be thinly crafted but who knows? With its Marlow and Moss imprimatur, Why Am I So Single? may yet appeal to Gen Z. It’s certainly been rolled in enough glitter!

Booking until 13th February 2025

Photo credit: Matt Crockett

Dear England - Review

Prince Edward Theatre, London

****

Written by James Graham

Directed by Rupert Goold

The cast of Dear England

When the National Theatre staged James Graham’s Dear England in the Olivier earlier this year, it appeared to herald a flood of stage plays about the beautiful game. Had the drama on the pitch become fair game for the dramatist’s pen? Not exactly. In fact the wealth of dramas at the Edinburgh Fringe and beyond seemed to document the seismic shift in how soccer is managed, supported and perceived in this country. The seeds of this change are explored in Graham’s play, which observes the first years of Gareth Southgate’s tenure as England manager, which following universal critical acclaim now transfers to the Prince Edward in the West End.

Perennial nice-guy, Southgate is given the impossible role of manager following a shake-up at executive level. He is haunted and constantly reminded of his penalty failure at the Euros quarter final in 1996 but accepts the role on the condition that some changes are brought in with the training. Southgate has realised that despite excellent talented players through the decades, England had yet triumph on the world stage since 1966. In searching for a different approach, he enlists Dr Pippa Grange (Dervla Kirwan taking over from Gina McKee in this transfer), a successful psychotherapist who endeavours to help the young team face up to their fears and feelings. Most people are sceptical at this point, but gradually Grange breaks through and nurtures trust and comradeship within the team. What is more important is that England becomes more and more successful, albeit without actually winning a match. But Southgate is playing the long game. Before England can win, they need to learn how to lose.

Graham's drama, while ostensibly about football, is in fact a state-of-the-nation play. Its backdrop shows a country struggling with its identity, suffering governmental chaos and desperately in need of unification. Woven through with comic moments and the high drama on the pitch, there are episodes of soul-searching poignancy, as the young players address their fears and learn to bond.  At the centre of all this is Southgate, played by a revelatory Joseph Fiennes, whose post-Covid open letter to the nation - Dear England - called upon the supporters to remember that the players are fans too, and that there is no place for racism when we are all aiming for the same result.

Directed by Rupert Goold, Dear England takes on an epic status. Es Devlin's clever set design, dominated by a giant illuminated stadium halo, is a rhapsody of digital projection and old-school scenery shifting. It's the first time in recent memory that the Prince Edward has played host to a straight play, but Goold's production has all the drama, choreography and spectacle of major musical - just no songs - save for snatches of Bittersweet Symphony, Vindaloo and Sweet Caroline.

Movement directors Ellen Kane and Hannes Langolf add to the drama by creating gripping physical scenes that represent everything from training to penalty shoot-outs with a remarkably limber cast playing the team. Part of the joy in this production is watching the characters unfold, whether it's Darragh Hand as Marcus Rashford, embracing this opportunity to give something back to the community or Will Close as an adorably hesitant Harry Kane, gradually learning to accept his role as team captain. There's excellent support too from Paul Thornley as coach Mike Webster, who primarily stands against Southgate's 'touchy-feely' approach but reluctantly warms to the burgeoning team spirit it engenders.

Dear England is a sharply designed, feel-good production that captures the spirit of reform that Southgate has initiated. There's no doubt it will likely attract - and rightly so - a whole new audience to the West End. As such, this might be one of the most important London transfers since Declan Rice moved from West Ham to Arsenal.

Reviewed by Paul Vale

Booking until 13th January 2024

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

A Chorus Line - Review

Curve Theatre, Leicester

*****

Music by Marvin Hamlisch

Lyrics by Edward Kleban

Book by James Kirkwood & Nicholas Dante

Directed by Nikolai Foster

The cast of A Chorus Line

It’s a bold statement from Leicester’s Curve that sees them stage A Chorus Line as their seasonal musical. Marvin Hamlisch and Ed Kleban’s meta-musical that scrapes away the schmaltz of 42nd Street, exposing the anxieties and aspirations of an auditioning Broadway chorus line is a gritty glimpse of humanity, with Kleban’s lyrics matching Sondheim's perceptive wisdom. This is a tough show with no gimmicks and which demands a strong and talented company. Here, directed by Nikolai Foster, the musical magic is a singular sensation.

While it is invidious to name cast members as the entire ensemble are all magnificent in the different glimpses of humanity they reveal, be it through the spoken word, song or dance, the key drivers of the narrative are outstanding. In a moment of song-free dialogue Ainsley Hall Ricketts as Paul holds our hearts in his hand as he speaks of the challenges of his parents accepting his sexuality. Lizzy Rose Esin-Kelly as Diana captures one of the show’s most tender lyrics in What I Did For Love, taking those carefully held hearts and breaking them with her honesty, while Carly Mercedes Dyer’s Cassie delivers a dance routine to The Music And The Mirror that is breathtaking in its energy and passion. Helming the on-stage company is Adam Cooper as Zach, the Broadway producer. Fierce yet enigmatic, Cooper plays the role with precise aplomb.

Foster’s team of creatives are as stunning as his cast. Ellen Kane’s choreography skilfully picks out the gelling of the company as the plot’s audition process evolves. Grace Smart’s set design is starkly stunning in its use of the Curve’s cavernous space. But take a bow lighting designer Howard Hudson whose rigs of spotlights rise and fall with a power that both enchants and enthralls. Musical director Tamara Saringer is equally magnificent. Hamlisch’s score is tough, but Saringer and her seven-piece band grasp the music’s challenges perfectly.

The people of Leicester have again been blessed with this festive treat – and if you don’t live nearby, then jump in a car or train and go. This may not be the traditional family show – but for Christmas quality, Nikolai Foster’s A Chorus Line is the One!

Runs until 31st December

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown - Review

Playhouse Theatre, London

***

Book by Jeffrey Lane

Music and lyrics by David Yazbeck

Directed by Bartlett Sher

Ricardo Afonso and Tamsin Greig

Pedro Almodovar's seminal film Women On The Verge Of A Nervous Breakdown famously captured the liberated spirit of post-Franco Madrid in a story that celebrated not just the women of the movie’s title but also the Spanish capital itself. The glory of Almodovar's vision however does not translate to the stage. Whilst some of the musical’s acting may be top-notch, its plot creaks and the mania of Madrid's scenic and atmospheric spice that so imbued the movie, is much missed on the Playhouse's cramped stage.

Billed on the posters as equals, Tamsin Greig and Haydn Gwynne are Pepa and Lucia, respectively the lover and long-estranged wife of Ivan and although both actresses are sensational, this is Greig's show. Mastering the comic subtlety of anger, in a potentially Olivier winning turn, Greig alone merits the (discounted) price of a ticket. Lucia meanwhile really has suffered a breakdown since Ivan abandoned her and Gwynne captures the desperate essence of this woman’s manic fragility. Lucia’s number Invisible, a sad self appraisal of the best years of life having passed her by, is exquisite in its heart rending poignancy.

Ricardo Afonso delights as a guitar strumming taxi driver. This coolest of cabbies, (and jonathanbaz.com has consistently raved about Afonso’s genius) commands our gaze and it’s only a shame that the show does not afford his character more airtime. Willemijn Verkaik, surely the eurostar of modern musical theatre, turns in a gamely supporting role as a lawyer with a surprise up her sleeve.

Aside from the ever talented Michael Matus’ many minor roles in the ensemble, that’s it for the excellence. Jerome Pradon fails to convince that his Ivan is the irresistible swordsman the writers intend, whilst Anna Skellern’s Candela struggles to be even a two-dimensional representation of a dumb, panic-stricken model. The desired level of farce does not come easily to this show and its ridiculous sub-plot about a terrorist at large, that would have been a lame thread even before last week’s tragedies in Paris, now just seems awkwardly embarrassing.

There are other pockets of talent to be found. Ellen Kane’s flamenco-flavoured dance work (enhanced by Holly James’ outstanding movement as the Matador) is always a treat to watch and much of Yazbek’s music (including a lovely motif that offers a nod to Carmen’s Habanera) is a delight. But much like Afonso’s taxi driving, the show's lyrics career and lurch alarmingly from wittily tight to utterly trite. Fans of the uber-talented Tamsin Greig and Haydn Gwynne won't be disappointed. Fans of the movie will be.

Now booking until 9th May 2015