Dracula - Review

The London Library, London


*


Adapted by Kate Kerrow
Directed by Helen Tennison

Sophie Greenham and Bart Lambert

It may well have been a bloody good idea to stage Dracula in the London Library, amidst the very books and shelves that more than likely inspired Bram Stoker as he composed his Gothic horror classic. But much like the blood that the infamous Count sucked from his victims, so has Creation Theatre’s take on the tale drained nearly every drop of passion from Stoker’s beautifully penned original.

Helen Tennison’s  production assumes an audience familiarity with Stoker’s tale and characters and notwithstanding an overly detailed synopsis included in the pricey (£4) programme, it is left to the play’s two actors, Sophie Greenham and Bart Lambert to assume a variety of roles and costumes as they attempt a curiously retrospective interpretation of the story. Unfortunately, their numerous characters are barely introduced, let alone (pun alert) fleshed out, and whilst the play’s setting within the Library’s grand Reading Room is unquestionably magnificent, the show itself proves a tedious and mediocre melodrama. 

No blood can obviously be splashed upon the hallowed walls of the St James’s Square building and so the special effects, such as they are, are conveyed by way of video projections onto the room’s curtains and pillars. The videos however have an insipidly low luminescence. This, combined with a directorial blandness that ignores for example the (very different) geniuses of a Werner Herzog or John Landis, means that these mini movies fail to frighten. Hell, even a spot of Hammer Films’ kitsch would not have gone amiss in a bid to give the evening even the faintest hint of a pulse. All the while Greenham and Lambert’s performances waver between deadly earnest and parody in a contrast that just doesn't work.

This website has long argued that good horror demands the suspension of the audience’s disbelief, ideally from a great height. Dracula at the London Library, albeit well intentioned, makes for anaemic theatre.

Runs until 1st March

Photo credit: Tristram Kenton

Thriller Live - Review

Lyric Theatre, London

*****

Conceived by Adrian Grant

Directed and choreographed by Gary Lloyd

Dajiow

Marking seven years in the West End (along with an eye-watering global box office take of £150million) Thriller Live continues at the Lyric after a magnificent makeover.

At its heart the show is still the same juke-box musical, chock full of hits. But there’s no fictional fairy-tale woven around the songs of Michael Jackson here and nor does the show pretend to be a (potentially tedious) biopic. Thriller Live remains a simple yet lavish, tribute to the music, the styles and the dance that Jackson created, excellently performed.

A re-worked opening sequence hints at some of Jackson’s greatest hits before the ever-sensational Eshan Gopal, almost dwarfed by his super-sized afro wig, bounds on to the stage to take the show through the early Jackson 5 days. Young yes, but Gopal’s an old-hand in the show and his confidence is matched only by his ability, smashing ABC with flawless vocals and movement.

The essence of Thriller Live is not in having one actor play Jackson. In place of an overly structured, scripted piece, 5 leading performers dip in and out of the “Jackson” role, suggesting the style and the voice of the man and at all times performing as an inspired tribute rather than a tacky replica. The staging is enhanced by ingenious electronic imagery, with LED panels so subtly configured that real life-silhouettes can barely be discerned from Colin Rozee and Potion Pictures' animations.

Of this Jackson five, Alex Buchanan’s vocals are divine – never bettered than in a finely worked She’s Out Of My Life. Reflecting Jackson’s complicated and sometimes androgynous persona, Trenyce Cobbins, the sole female lead, offers a take on the performer’s presence that is as distinctive as it is assured. It is the immaculately manicured Dajiow however who captures the essence of Jackson at the height of his fame, sporting a look and poise that even at the show’s after-party made one do a double take. When Dajiow moonwalks it could be Michael.

The secret of the show’s success, aside from Jackson’s platinum-plated back catalogue, has to lie with director / choreographer Gary Lloyd who has stayed with the production from the outset. Jackson wrote the songs, but it is Lloyd’s vision that has translated concepts first revealed either in Jackson’s sensational videos or stadia performances and scaled them down to fit a West End stage, whilst retaining the creative essence of Jackson’s magic.

Aside from the precision Lloyd has drilled into his company whether the routine be body-popping, breakdancing, moonwalking, or zombies boogying, the dance maestro focuses at all times on an unpretentious flair that captures Jackson’s style and yet avoids mimicry. 

From a strikingly 70s Rockin’ Robin routine – all flared red and white costumes with the dancers moving seamlessly on heels that would give most people vertigo, through to a psychedelic angle to Can You Feel It, Lloyd’s vision is inspired throughout. The show’s title number is reserved to (almost) the very end – with Dajiow wearing the red leather jacket from John Landis' legendary video and Lloyd conceiving a routine that with a dozen or so dancers pays homage to Landis’ spectacular work, filmed with a far larger cast some 30+ years back.

Thriller Live offers no plot other than a glimpse of the dazzling arc that Michael Jackson’s work created. Sensational songs, stunningly performed! 

Booking until mid-2016

Howl - Review

****
Certificate TBC

Directed by Paul Hyett

Tickets please!

Helming his second full length feature, Paul Hyett’s Howl is a movie whose title along with the poster’s full moon, give a clear hint at the story's lycanthropic pitch and proves to be one of the year’s best horror pictures so far.

Some of the best werewolf movies have been made in Britain and in one of the most imaginative takes on the genre since John Landis' groundbreaking An American Werewolf In London, Hyett's yarn (penned by Mark Huckerby and Nick Ostler) kicks off in the comfortingly familiar surroundings of Waterloo Station.

Train based terror has long fuelled the romance of ghost and horror tales and in a summer that has rail strikes gripping the nation, it’s refreshing to watch Alpha Trains' (a fictional company whose livery is only loosely based on South West Trains) evening express pull out of the London terminus, with its dozen or so souls on board heading towards far more than their usual Waterloo sunset.

There is an ever-so British budgetary constraint to the movie that suggests an air of Hammer Horror. The cast are far from household names, (though in a neat touch, Rosie Day and Sean Pertwee, both carryovers from Hyett's The Seasoning House make short-lived cameos) the purpose built railway carriage set wouldn't withstand the scrutiny of even a mildly obsessive train-geek and some of the matte work is cringeworthy. But no matter, for as a deer on the line brings driver Pertwee's train to a shuddering and unscheduled halt, it is only a matter of time before (nearly) all of the onboard souls succumb in turn to beautifully brutal slaughter.

In a sometimes creaking story, the director’s skill lies as much in the suspense he’s woven into the film as it does in the gruesomeness of his imagery. Having cut his teeth (sorry) designing special make up and effects for creature features such as The Descent movies, Hyett has a keen eye for what shocks. To be fair there's nothing here that quite matches Rick Baker's award winning genius in American Werewolf, but Hyett knows his craft.  

Also impressive is that amidst a script of occasional corniness, (The Seasoning House had a far superior text) Hyett coaxes performances from his cast that convince throughout. Ed Speleers leads as a bumbling train guard searching for the hero inside himself, whilst Elliot Cowan is Adrian, a handsomely chiselled bounder and a womanising cad who in a neat post-modern touch reveals that he won’t employ women at his City finance house because of their annoying tendency to fall pregnant. Back in the day it used to be that just being a bastard marked a character out to deserve a spectacular death - turns out in 2015 he has to be a sexist bastard too. 

For the cinephiles playing werewolf bingo, Howl trots out most of the tropes, (but not all mind, there are no silver bullets in this picture) with the occasional twist. We’ve been brought up to know that those bitten by the beast have to become werewolves themselves. Hyett however offers up a nod to the zombie genre by having his victims spew that particularly dark red blood, only ever found in those transitioning to the world of the un-dead. There is also a lovely touch as Ania Marson, Jenny an elderly female victim, finds herself vomiting out her dentures, only to then develop a far more useful set of incisors, infinitely superior to anything available on the NHS.

As Ellen the train's trolley stewardess, Holly Weston gives an assured performance that suggests a hint of sexual frisson and rivalry amongst the characters, whilst Calvin Dean’s Paul provides occasional moments of drunken slob comedy (and classy suspense) before his number's up.

Whilst Hyett's best may yet await us, Howl remains a ripping yarn, cleverly realised and yet again, only enhanced by Paul E. Francis’ intelligent score. Not just worth the ticket and popcorn, it's a great date-movie too.

Skyfall - Review

On general release, certificate 12A

****

Skyfall is the 23^rd film in the James Bond franchise and as has been widely reported, is released to coincide with the 50^th anniversary of  Dr No, the first in the series. It’s a dark movie, featuring a Bond who, in the words of director Sam Mendes is a “combination of lassitude, boredom, depression [and] difficulty with what he's chosen to do for a living”.

The acting in Skyfall is outstanding. Whilst Daniel Craig continues to refine and define his interpretation of 007 the film introduces the elite of Britain's performing talent, the likes of Ralph Fiennes, Rory Kinnear, Naomie Harris and Ben Whishaw, to the various echelons of Judi Dench's MI6. Noted theatre critic Mark Shenton tweeted on seeing the film of the legacy owed to British theatre by world cinema. He is not wrong. Shenton further points out that several of these names have already gone so far as to have reached the pinnacle of playing Hamlet within their stage careers. In the current climate of public spending cuts Mendes is clearly leaving this Government department very ably staffed, pending the next Bond instalment. To witness the interaction between these performers, including Javier Bardem as the villain and even a cameo from Albert Finney towards the film’s conclusion, sees the movie mirror the stellar casting that the Harry Potter franchise has consistently attracted over the years.

Whilst the script is biting, witty and sharp, the plot disappoints and to describe the story in even the remotest detail risks spoiling. The evolution of this yarn has had a chequered path as MGM’s finances wobbled during the film’s development and it shows. The plot ultimately evolves into a British based version of Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner's The Bodyguard, an unquestionably well acted but nonetheless unfulfilling narrative.

For the fans, the classic ingredients of Bond are all there. The lines, THAT tune, and an outstanding opening sequence filmed in Turkey are all an absolute delight. Bond’s women are stylish and sexy as well as being thoughtfully fleshed out as characters, though perhaps the film could have cut back on some of the topless nudity. There is only so much of Daniel Craig’s chest that one can bear to watch over the course of two plus hours.  The film also largely plays out in London and the UK and again it is pleasing to see so much of the capital city and the nation's landscapes being exploited by Mendes in this 50^th anniversary tribute.

Whilst the photography and the performances shine, some of the action sequences and visual effects disappoint. Relatively early in the movie when a prominent London building is the target for a terrorist explosion, the Bond special effects team fail to deliver a convincing blast. It has also been widely trailed that the film features a tube train crashing. When this moment occurs, the visual effects involved in capturing the destruction of the (clearly model) train carriages are poor. The producers need to bear in mind that modern audiences have sophisticated tastes. They are accustomed to, for example,  both the excellence of the Harry Potter visual effects and also the outstanding work of James Cameron, so when in 2012, the audience is presented with a crashing Underground train that looks as authentic as Spielberg’s shark from the 1970’s, they are entitled to feel cheated. At the risk of being accused of pedantry, a minor point of location credibility also extends to the actual tube trains used. A journey in the movie through Temple tube station on the District Line is being made by a deep “tube” train, rather than the more “rectangular” stock that actually serve that line. The film is of course being marketed at a global audience, many of whom will not have the faintest idea of what carriages run on which London Underground lines. But some of that audience will be Londoners and they will watch those scenes with some part of their suspended disbelief (essential for all story telling) being gradually brought back down to earth. And when filmmakers choose to play fast and loose with even the most basic elements of consistency and respect for location, they insult  their audience's intelligence and it can leave a temporarily unsatisfying taste. On a positive note, Bond's on-foot chase of a villain through the foot tunnels of the tube station is the best such sequence since John Landis' An American Werewolf in London including an impressive and much envied slide down a deep Tube escalator. 

The climax of the movie, without revealing anything, is a shoot out between the good guys and the bad guys that relies too heavily on silhouettes machine-gunning each other and lobbing grenades and sticks of dynamite. For this sequence, less would have been more, and again a model of the final building in flames was visually disappointing.

Whilst the opening and closing chapters of this Bond tale are truly striking moments of quality cinema, it is a disappointment that the intervening narrative lacks depth and credibility. Notwithstanding, Mendes and Eon Productions have crafted a worthy and watchable adventure that demands to be savoured on the big screen before it is swallowed up for broadcast on the Sky 007 channel, if only to gasp in amazment at the opening sequence of Bond grappling with a villain on top of a moving train. A classic action movie sequence, captured brilliantly by Mendes and his crew.

James Bond is a very modern icon of very traditional British culture and this film is gloriously British. Mendes however has had his creditable turn at the wheel of this Aston Martin of the movie business. He should park the car and give the keys to Danny Boyle.