The Pianist of Willesden Lane - Review

St James Theatre, London

****

Adapted and directed by Hershey Felder

Based on the book The Children of Willesden Lane by  Mona Golabek and Lee Cohen

In a non-stop performance of virtuoso theatre, The Pianist of Willesden Lane sees Mona Golabek, an accomplished American concert pianist, pay the most remarkable of tributes to her late mother Lisa Jura.

An accomplished pianist herself and who in fact taught her daughter Mona to play, the Jewish Jura was born in Vienna in the 1920s and as the tentacles of Nazism spread into Austria, by a quirk of fortune was to be spared the unfolding Holocaust. Following the Kristallnacht in 1938 her family, heartbreakingly, placed her on a Kindertransport train to London, where she ultimately found herself billeted at a hostel in Willesden Lane. Here friendships were formed, her Jewish heritage was preserved and her love for the piano was encouraged.

Jura told her life history to Golabek who then published her mother's story as a book. Subsequently and working with director Hershey Felder, Jura’s journey has been translated into this 90 minute solo show that combines a heartfelt narrative interspersed with exquisitely performed extracts of some of the greatest classical piano compositions - and there is even a sprinkling of American songbook gems too. It makes for an evening of moving powerful drama as we follow Jura's heroic personal endeavours and learn of her family’s fate as European Jewry burned. 

Simply staged, Golabek sits at a Steinway itself framed by a handful of gilt picture frames upon which images of loved ones or historical scenes are projected. It's slick yet painstaking, with the unfolding of a story that is as inspirational as it is educational - telling ultimately of how British kindness offered sanctuary to the forever grateful refugee child.

Lisa Jura's story is one of beauty, goodness and perseverance that was born out of a time of evil, slaughter and destruction, but what makes The Pianist of Willesden Lane truly remarkable is the woman who has made it possible. Golabek tells her mother's remarkable story, one of so many that must never be forgotten, in a performance of elegance, dignity and breathtaking musical excellence.

Runs until 22nd October
Photo credit: Tristram Kenton

Exposure - Review

St James Theatre, London


**


Music, lyrics and book by Mike Dyer
Directed by Phil Willmott

The company

With a talented cast, fleshed out with the odd soap star and a top notch creative team, Exposure promised to be a night of lively, entertaining theatre. It was certainly lively, but that didn't save it from being entirely nonsensical and ridiculous. 

In the 12 years it took Dyer to write the book and having collaborated with as many composers, why did nobody sit the man down and let him know he was creating, possibly the most bizarre piece of theatre ever written.

The story, such as it is, follows Jimmy, (David Albury) a passionate photographer who has just returned from a harrowing assignment in the Sudan to take some PR shots of a pop princess (Niamh Perry) that he used to go to school with. Possibly (to many in the audience) one of the few good things about this show was that more often than not the ripped Albury was shirtless.

Jimmy is then introduced to the pop star's demonic manager, Miles Mason (Michael Greco), who at one point sings a song (entitled Miles Mason) about how hearing his own name gives him an erection - though to be honest, given Greco's inability to pronounce words clearly, the hardest part of the number was trying to discern the words at all.

Greco propositions our leading man to take paparazzi photographs of examples of the seven deadly sins. What follows is then some bizarre satanic battle in a London Underground inspired Hell. And somewhere in all of this madness Jimmy falls in love with a random homeless woman, Tara, (Natalie Anderson) who makes angels out of coke cans. 

The show’s truly impressive feature is Lindon Barr's choreography. The ensemble were incredibly tight and despite the ever changing story line, the movement in each scene was perfect. Barr should be proud of himself.

One doubts that this musical will be revisited any time soon - it may well have received too much exposure already.

Runs until 27th August

Reviewed by Charlotte Darcy

Photo credit Pamela Raith

La Poule Plombee - Review

St James' Studio, London

****

Sarah-Louise Young

Appearing as part of the (now ended) London Festival of Cabaret, Sarah-Louise Young's latest cabaret manifestation is a set entitled La Poule Plombée. Literally translated it means the "leaded hen", which offers a sardonic contrast to Edith Piaf's "little sparrow" (and of course sounds appetizingly like flambé too). However, Google a little deeper and one finds that Poule can also refer to a floozy or tart (human rather than pastry). And then remember that Young famously describes herself on Twitter as Cabaret Whore...

In this show however, Young is the very essence of pastiche as she dons the persona of an angst-filled chanteuse. Affectionately and perceptively mocking the chic French-diva genre, hers is no Piaf tribute gig.

A consummate professional, Young’s mask does not slip throughout. There may not be any personally revealing anecdotes here, but the 4th wall is cunningly and repeatedly breached as she rips up the entente cordiale with some deliciously credible swipes at British culture.

Young also brings an entertaining even if depressing mania to her act. Arriving on stage brandishing a large butcher's knife, the melodrama is played to hilarious effect - the knife gag leading into a song about a traumatised butcher's daughter, whose pet pig is slaughtered by her father. Nice.

Other numbers touch upon the Little Black Dress as well as an affectionate play on the word Encore that closes the set, keep the wit razor sharp while occasional moments of audience participation are managed perfectly by Young who never once lets good-humoured embarrassment slip into rank humiliation.  

With musical director Michael Roulston as deeply immersed in playing a supporting role as Young, the pair's banter may lack spontaneity, but it is polished to perfection. Young's mastery of the genre is up there with the best and it is a real treat to be offered a show that is so distinctly original.

My Mother Said I Never Should - Review

St James Theatre, London

****

Written by Charlotte Keatley

Directed by Paul Robinson

Katie Brayben

There's a pain and beauty to this first London revival of My Mother Said I Never Should in nearly 30 years that is, at times, quite devastating.

Like a ride on a fairground waltzer, Charlotte Keatley's narrative spins us around and through four generations of Doris Partington's family. Her scenes jump between the years, playing out the evolution of female emancipation in post-war England. 

Keatley's writing is finely honed. She has crafted a (subtly updated) play that is as much a commentary upon Britain's social history as it is a study of four women. There may be a timelessness to the challenges of a loveless marriage, but whilst Maureen Lipman's Doris weathered 61 years of wedlock, confessing on her husband's death that "I don't think we liked each other very much", daughter Margaret sees her own marriage fail in middle-age in the 1980s, whilst granddaughter Jackie faces her own teenage, agonising compromise following the unplanned birth of her daughter Rosie.

Lipman heads a quartet that must surely represent one of the finest ensembles in town. In a play that explores the power and the bind of motherhood, Keatley's characters are stoic. Lipman's brings a measured wisdom and a quiet wounded pain to Doris. All seeing and all knowing, she seasons the morsels of wit that Keatley has sprinkled with a perfect nuance, capturing our affection and respect.

Katie Brayben as Jackie has a first half that could be likened to “Fantine's back story”. Her pain as mother Margaret takes Rosie to raise as her own is a masterclass in understated agony. And it's not just the acting too that is so brilliant - it is Keatley's brutally honest text. Unlike Fantine these women aren’t heroines of grand literature. Fictitious yes, but played out against the suburbs of Manchester and Croydon, they are a part of all our lives.

Caroline Faber's Margaret faces her own agonies. Supporting her daughter, loving and raising her granddaughter and ultimately deserted by her husband, she brings a resonant cadence to her speeches. And then there's Serena Manteghi's gorgeous Rosie. In the early scenes, when the stage-baby is simply a mass of swaddling, Manteghi sits stage right, gurgling and cooing and (brilliantly) giving vocal life to the linen. As she grows into adolescence we forget that the actor's an adult. Manteghi captures Rosie’s childhood without cliché and as the inevitable denouement looms, her pain is refreshingly free of melodrama.

Paul Robinson directs with sensitivity as Simon Slater's sound and music enhance proceedings, with the production marking an impressive debut by producers Tiny Fires. 

Go see this play – the acting is sensational.

Runs until 21st May

Photo credit: Alex Harvey-Brown

Forever Plaid - Review

St James Studio, London

****

Written by Stuart Ross

Directed by Grant Murphy

The Plaids

The gingham tablecloths set the tone for Forever Plaid, currently downstairs at St James' Studio. Look closely and the "menu cards" are actually the evening's set list. If it wasn't for the excellent performances on display, all that would be missing would be a juke-box to seal the illusion of 1960's Americana that Forever Plaid so carefully re-creates.

With a plotline as melodramatic as the era it tells of, we meet The Plaids, a fictitious covers band all killed in a road crash and whose spirits are returned to Earth to perform a gig. It's a ridiculous conceit and one that can only work at all if the show's actors are at the top of their game. Fortunately, they are.

The quartet's harmonies are simply the closest possible. The show opens with Three Coins In The Fountain, a rat pack classic that so defines the period, before bespectacled bass man (and bass player) Matthew Quinn makes a perfectly weighted contribution to Gotta Be This Or That. Luke Striffler's Frankie is handed most of the evening's (occasionally too cheesy) narrative, however with a perfect vocal contribution, his singing delights throughout. 

Keith Jack (of BBC's Any Dream Will Do fame) delights as the geeky Sparky, though it is Jon Lee, with a track record that includes both S Club 7 and having played Franke Valli in Jersey Boys, whose voice (especially in Cry) provides the cherry on the top of this malted milk shake of a show.

It's not just the voices that shine. Accompanying throughout on piano (and occasionally on the far too rarely heard melodica) Anthony Gabriele delivers his usual musical perfection. Grant Murphy (assisted here by Katie Bradley) choreographs the four in routines that are as slick as they are witty. Ben Rogers' lighting design works a treat, (I LOVED the location-specific pantograph flood light as a finale touch), whilst Nik Corrall offers an ingenious design of stage and costume, with vinyl and chrome microphone stands everywhere 

More than just a selection of perfectly performed classics, Forever Plaid offers a step back in time. It may be corny, but it’s classy.

Runs until 24th April

Then touring to the Radlett Centre and Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds

The Way To Get A Girl - Review

St James Studio, London


****

Michael Webborn and Colin Savage

In a new and novel cabaret set, Colin Savage attempts to teach Michael Webborn, through quick witted comedy and song, the way to get a girl.

We discover that pianist Webborn has struggled throughout his life to hold down a relationship with a woman. To counter this romantic ineptitude, Savage (in his own opinion a noted success with the fairer sex) attempts a masterclass - and as the evening pans out we watch Webborn reveal his failures in love, as Savage tries to pass on his wisdom and show him everything he’s been doing wrong.

It turns out that the duo are quite simply hilarious! They have a genuine banter and chemistry between them, together with a set list that ranges from contemporary ballads through to older musical theatre gems, some of which have been re-written for the occasion. There’s even the odd pop song in there too. 

Opening with Let Me Be Your Star, the number proves as big a smash as its show’s namesake and aside from being a fantastic pianist and composer, Webborn proves to be a stunning singer! The 29 year old has a voice way beyond his years with wonderful control and precise technical strength. The same can be said for ladies’ man Savage, a fantastic tenor whose high notes seem to just go up and up, with a very pleasing contemporary tone.

As the night progresses we learn more and more about Webborn’s disastrous romantic past, a particularly tender subject being his most recent quest, a Brazilian nun who he’d spent a week wooing on a nudist beach!

The pair deliver a number of hilarious and impressive duets including an edited version of We Can Do It from The Producers and from City Of Angels, I’m Nothing Without You. Their wit and timing are spot on, creating an almost Book of Mormon-esque vibe, with Savage as the suave, confident front man and his partner proving to be the loveable yet bumbling sidekick!

The biggest accolade of the night has to go to Webborn. From the outset he allows himself to be the object of ridicule, with personality, looks and even his beloved (and, to be fair, acclaimed) new musical The Clockmaker’s Daughter being mocked, almost bringing him to breaking point. However when he launches himself into I’d Rather Be Sailing from William Finn’s A New Brain, Webborn surprises and impresses with a vocal performance full of strong high notes and a beautiful falsetto, bringing the entire St James’ audience to an acute silence.

An occasional fumble in the script is nothing that can’t be ironed out in a gig that sparkled with verve, wit and some truly enchanting singing. A one-off performance on this occasion – we can only hope the pair bring this show back soon. It’s great cabaret!

Guest reviewer: Charlotte Darcy

The World Goes Round - Review

St James' Theatre, London


****

Sally Samad, Oliver Tompsett, Debbie Kurup, Steffan Lloyd-Evans, Alexandra Da Silva

Kander & Ebb's repertoire is famously bleak with musicals that have focused on the rise of Nazism, torture and misery in a Latin American jail, racism in the Deep South and celebrity criminals and corruption in Chicago. Their shows are challenging, often making for very uncomfortable entertainment. So it makes for quite a paradox that The World Goes Round offers an evening of delightful musical theatre treats. Conceived some 25 years ago, it was Susan Stroman and David Thompson together with Scott Ellis who put together this eclectic selection that referenced all the composers' musicals to date (though of course omitting The Scottsboro Boys which had yet to be written.)

Now on for one week only at the St James' Studio, there's an understated aura of finesse that surrounds this revival. Debbie Kurup leads an accomplished vocal quintet and with a nod to her Velma Kelly, makes fine work of Chicago's All That Jazz. There’s a measured quality elsewhere from Kurup with a neatly stylish opening take on the revue's title number and a sensational duet in the second half alongside Alexandra Da Silva, the women giving a perfect interpretation of The Grass Is Always Greener from the not so well known Woman Of The Year. 

Da Silva's acting through song proves to be one of the evening's highlights, kicking off the second half with Ring Them Bells. Sally Samad completes the female trio - and proves her credentials in (another) duet with Da Silva, Class from Chicago perfectly capturing the number's wry irony.

Oliver Tompsett and Steffan Lloyd-Evans provide the evening's tenor tones, never bettered than with Tompsett's I Don't Remember You segueing sweetly into Lloyd-Evans' take on Sometimes A Day Goes By - though a nod too for Lloyd-Evans' Mr Cellophane that captures the song's wit and pathos. 

It makes for a novel twist to hear Cabaret actually sung in cabaret - and the five-voice arrangement, accompanied mainly by Rhys Lovell's bass, offers a refreshing interpretation of one of the Songbook's greats. Kris Rawlinson's four piece band are on point throughout, lending a polished turn to the show's arrangements.

In a set that's crammed with the familiar as well as the obscure, The World Goes Round makes for a gig of unadulterated charm.

Runs until 7th February 2016

Around The World In 80 Days - Review

St James Theatre, London


****

Written by Laura Eason
Based on the novel by Jules Verne
Directed by Lucy Bailey

Simon Gregor and Robert Portal

The family friendly festive fayre at the St James this season is a delightfully performed take on Jules Verne's classic novel. The stagecraft is ingenious as Verne's visionary novel is condensed over two hours and acts into a 19th century global panorama.

Virtually top-hatted throughout, Robert Portal is every inch the English gentleman, Phileas Fogg. Impeccable in both manner and manners, Portal captures everything that David Niven created on screen in the role, yet subtly updates and improves upon it for today's audience. Alongside Fogg is of course his trusted French valet Passepartout and in another of this show's inspired performances, Simon Gregor offers a masterclass in physical theatre. Gregor channels Andrew Sachs' Manuel and Burt Kwouk's Kato into his manservant, delivering a turn that is as thoughtful as it is occasionally slapstick. The kids will guffaw at his display of perfectly timed cocktail of idiocy, loyalty and occasional profundity, whilst adults will appreciate the genius of Gregor's neatly nuanced genius.

Lucy Bailey's work is always fun to watch. Her Titus Andronicus for the Globe (recently reprised after 8 years away and don’t be surprised if it's back again) was a tragi-comic treat of the most gruesome proportions, defining Bailey's knack for giving the audience what they want. Here and assisted by Anna Fleischle's ingenious designs, this clever director does it again. Amidst a carefully crafted Heath Robinson-esque set, Bailey's economically created trompes l’oeils are a delight. Carefully choreographed actors convinces us of swaying decks on steamers, whilst a funeral pyre, full size elephant and snow blown sled ride across frozen prairies are just some of the inter-continental delights she conjures up on the St James’ compact stage.

Elsewhere in the cast, Tony Gardner's Inspector Fix is everything a Victorian copper should be, whilst amongst an ensemble that assumes a multitude of roles, Tim Steed's Colonel Proctor is eminently believable.

A disappointing corner that has been cut by the producers is the use of pre-recorded music. The show carries an intelligent score, nicely global in its themes and quite piano-focused too. A live band (albeit costly) would only have enhanced the experience.

Whilst the show's magic is good fun and the fight direction is fabulous too (credit to Darren Lang, Rachel Bown-Williams and Ruth Cooper-Brown) Around The World In 80 Days is a world away from pantomime. The level of educated imagination that it (rather wholesomely) demands, suggests an audience probably best suited from Year 7 and up. 

Above all, this is good, quality theatre - cleverly conceived and wonderfully performed. Go see it.

Runs until 17th January 2016

Pure Imagination - Review

St James Theatre


****


Devised by Leslie Bricusse, Chrisopher Renshaw and Danielle Tarento
Directed by Christopher Renshaw

Giles Terera

Who can take a set list? Sprinkle it with class……

… as through two hours a delicious cast of 5 chart a course through nigh on 60 of the songs of lyricist Leslie Bricusse. Unashamedly a ‘juke-box musical’, the show marks producer Danielle Tarento’s first foray into that genre, with a combination of both song snatches and entire numbers as Bricusse’s remarkable body of work is referenced and respected.

There is however something distinctive to Pure Imagination that sets it apart from most of the other shows that have been fashioned out of back catalogue cash-cows and which currently clog London’s theatres. First and foremost, Bricusse is a wordsmith whose career has seen him partner a diverse range of composing collaborators.

Sure the man has penned a few melodies himself, but that the show includes tunes from those Atlantic-straddling greats including John Barry, John Williams, Henry Mancini and of course Anthony Newley, leads to a collection that is close to a chocolate box of surprises. Who knew that (under a pseudonym) Bricusse had lobbed in the lyrics to Lonnie Donegan’s skiffle delight, My Old Man’s A Dustman, which with honky tonk piano brought on centre-stage, gives rise to a rather wonderful almost knees-up in the first half!

True to form, Tarento draws a talented company to stage the show. Veteran Dave Willis is The Man, oozing panache and flair with every number and in an exciting Who Can I Turn To? proving that he still is, very much, the man. Opposite Willetts, Siobhan McCarthy is The Woman, bringing a measured maturity to her share of the numbers, her act two opener a sizzling, Fosse-infused, Le Jazz Hot a delight.

Other special moments include Willett’s laconic Bond-fuelled take on Goldfinger (even if he channels more Moore than Connery) with perhaps the cheesiest/wittiest segue ever as The Man smoothly segues into Talk To The Animals from Giles Terera’s feline Pink Panther (yes, there were lyrics to that iconic signature tune)

Terera’s Joker offers talent elsewhere too, making spines almost tingle in his What Kind Of Fool Am I and giving a stylishly sassy take to If I Ruled The World.

As The Boy, Niall Sheehy brings a younger perspective to some numbers, with Jekyll & Hyde’s This Is The Moment proving particularly special. Completing the cast, Julie Atherton brings her hallmark polished poise to the production

That the band’s sextet outnumber the actors speaks volumes for the creatives’ vision and much of the evening’s credit is due to Michael England’s immaculate arrangements and pinpoint musical direction. Mention too for Richard Coughlan, whose finely fingered bass work enhances the production’s jazz.

Chris Renshawe directs with a wise touch. Old enough to understand Bricusse’s legacy, Renshawe keeps his finger firmly on a contemporary pulse, ensuring a style that works for today (even if the numerous selfie gags are a touch laboured)

The pure imagination of Bricusse, Tarento and Renshawe has created a confection of a show that blends nostalgia and wit with a generous splash of excellence. It all makes for a charming night out.


Runs until 17th October 2015

Miss-Leading Ladies - Review

St James Studio

*****

Co-written and directed by Sarah-Louise Young

Ria Jones and Ceri Dupree

Before launching into a sassy opening routine of Irving Berlin's Sisters, Ria Jones and Ceri Dupree tease their audience with a hint of Gypsy's act one Let Me Entertain You - sung of course originally by that show's child sisters June and Louise. And in that moment these two gifted performers achieve a rare and elusive vanishing point that sees dramatic irony fade into reality. For Dupree and Jones really are siblings, Dupree by a few years being Jones' elder brother.

Miss-Leading Ladies is an expertly crafted tribute to the (mainly Broadway) female musical theatre stars of the last century. Amongst many moments of side splitting humour, there can be glimpses of gut wrenching pathos - and it is a tribute to both the performers and their director Sarah-Louise Young that such a whirl through history can be as informative as it is perfectly drilled and delivered.

Jones and Dupree know how to work a crowd – and where Jones, a former Eva Peron, Fantine and Grizabella in her time, has a voice that is simply majestic both in its refined elegance and in her astonishing belt that she unleashes from time to time, it is Dupree’s outrageously glamorous drag outfits (I lost count of his wardrobe changes - bravo costume maker James Maciver ) that garner the evening’s biggest laughs.

Not just songs and patter, there’s a hint of Music Hall too complete with seaside-postcard style saucy lyrics, along with the occasional spot of encouraged singalong. As Dupree’s ability to rattle off bawdy gags hits a sweet spot, so his mimicry of Broadway’s Grand Dames is sensational. There’s a rictus Bette Davis (or was that Carol Channing?), Eartha Kitt becomes a prosecco pouring soak (thanks for the unexpected glass of fizz, mind) whilst his Marlene Dietrich, sporting a white fur train that goes on forever, sings Falling In Love again re-written to Lifting My Face Again. And those are just a few of Dupree’s personae.

Another one of Ceri Dupree's sensational outfits!

Jones plays a straighter bat, her numbers evidencing a love for Ethel Merman, though the welsh diva also gives a sublimely understated nod to Judy Garland with The Man That Got Away. As she mounts the stage clad in black and sporting a crucifix, it only takes a hint of accordion, along with her grip of a 1950’s microphone stand to suggest Piaf. Je Ne Regrette Rien and Hymn To Love duly follow and as Jones scales the latter’s simply enchanted chords, with head bowed and a perfect presence, she captures the essence of the enigmatic chanteuse.

To be honest, Miss-Leading Ladies deserves its 5 stars for Dupree’s costumes alone – but more than that - these two singers, blessed with sharing what is clearly the most gifted of gene pools, are just a terrific act. Their penultimate number Rose’s Turn, again from Gypsy, works not just as a nod to Imelda Staunton’s excellence that’s carrying on down the road, but rather gives the song an entirely new interpretation. It is a special moment to witness these talented siblings singing such a withering comment upon a failed parental ego.

Edward Court on piano together with Sally Peerless on flute and reeds offer an accompaniment that only matches their singers’ polish and to be fair, Ben Roger's lighting is a bit of a treat too.

With both drag and false lashes removed, Dupree joins Jones for a final number of Peter Allen’s Quiet Please, There’s A Lady On Stage whence the St James audience rose as one (and not for the first time that evening either) to salute the pair. Don’t miss Miss-Leading Ladies, it is an evening of outstanding cabaret.

Runs until 30th August

Photo credit: Jamie Scott-Smith

Songs For A New World - Review

St James Theatre, London

****

Music and lyrics by Jason Robert Brown
Directed by Adam Lenson

Cynthia Erivo

There is a great deal of debate over how to define a piece like Jason Robert Brown's iconic debut work; 'Songs for a New World'. Some see it as a concept album, a young composer experimenting with snippets from a variety of unfinished or dismissed projects, others see it as a thematic song cycle, a collection of ideas about modernity. But in today’s world where song cycles can all too often be a lazy get-out for a composer looking to stage in his songs in a production that desperately needs a good book, it is refreshing to revisit this finely crafted work in a 20th anniversary staging of the show that truly defined Brown as a master in understanding the human condition. 

The vocal work on display at the St James Theatre is excellent, not least in the performance of Jenna Russell as Woman 2. Russell gives a masterclass in her solo numbers, showing a virtuoso understanding of pacing and pay off. She manoeuvres the comedy of songs such as 'Just One Step' and 'Surabaya Santa' with subtlety and hilarious effect, whilst her 'Stars and Moon' was affable, beautiful and deeply sad all at once. Damian Humbley also impresses and gives some much needed depth to his numbers. He plays the perfect combination of frustration and self-loathing in 'She Cries' and finds the identifiable humanity in the 'The World Was Dancing' that keeps the songs from descending into the unpalatable.

Cynthia Erivo's stunning upper register soars in Woman 1's material, flowing with ease and clarity through the challenging vocal leaps of songs such as 'Christmas Lullaby'. Dean John-Wilson also impresses vocally, tackling the nefariously difficult Man 1 with confidence. His tone and soft notes were delightful, whilst he also showcased his ability to let rip in the show-stopping 'Flying Home'.

Whilst the singing is par excellence, there is a drift in Adam Lenson's direction. All four actors are ever-present on stage, but their presence rarely feels like it adds to the action. Lenson seems content to let his actors leave their hands in their pockets and shrug their way through songs. It does the piece a disservice as there is a definite disconnect between some of the passion and intensity of Brown's score and the accompanying dramatic display on stage.

This production is defined however by Brown's score itself. Even 20 years on, the music has the punch and eclectic elasticity to feel incredibly current. The styles range from swooping love ballad to rhythm and blues and the excitement of Brown's melodic harmonies never ceases to garner a spine-tingling response. It helps that alongside the actors, that Brown's melodies are delivered by a fantastic set of musicians. Daniel A. Weiss' band drives with intensity and suspense, deftly handling the changing styles and emotions of Brown's multifarious score.

Songs For A New World is as exciting to listen to now as it ever was and with this cast it deserves to be seen.

Runs until 8th August

Guest reviewer: Will Clarkson

Photo credit: Darren Bell 

McQueen - Review

St James Theatre, London

***

Written by James Phillips

Directed by John Caird

Tracy-Ann Oberman and Steven Wight

James Phillips’ new play McQueen offers a lavish tribute to one of Britain’s most acclaimed fashion designers. That Alexander McQueen was to tragically take his own life at 40 only (ghoulishly?) adds to his iconic mystique – though as the play opens with McQueen contemplating his own mortality and then proceeds to take us through what is suggested to be his last night alive, the narrative’s structure at times suggests a re-branded Arthur Miller. In place of Salesman, think Death Of A Designer.

In the title role Stephen Wight is a marvel. The accomplished performer literally becomes McQueen in a relentless performance that never sees him off stage. Wight masters the cocky, cockney genius that so defined McQueen – and when the dialog offers his character profound moments of reflection, Wight’s delivery is scorching. During a dialogue with journalist Arabella (a perfectly weighted performance from Laura Rees), McQueen offers his explanation of what makes a woman feel valued and there is an analysis in his words that is both relevant and recognisable, as Wight speaks with a touching and convincing resonance. 

But if McQueen was haute-couture, Phillips choice of dramatic vehicle to portray the man is last seasons Primark. Dahlia, a fan and stranger has let herself into his home, providing the designer to re-tell his flashback tableaux.

Dianna Agron, star of the US TV series Glee plays Dahlia and one has to conclude that she has been “stunt-cast” based upon a Twitter following of two million, rather than ability. Her biography offers no hint of stage experience and it shows. Performing in close up to camera and with the safety net of re-takes is one thing but live theatre is a cruel master, demanding that an actor communicates at all times with voice and presence in a way that makes the audience suspend their disbelief. Agron tries valiantly, but her performance never gets above mediocre. John Caird is one of our leading directors and he should know better than this. His performer needs to be coached into filling the auditorium with her persona and one hopes that Agron will find her feet as the run matures.

David Shaw-Parker is a flawless delight as John Hitchcock, the master tailor under whose tutelage McQueen mastered the art of cutting fabrics. When Shaw-Parker speaks, it is though he has walked in from Savile Row. Tracy-Ann Oberman plays the complex role of Isabella Blow a style icon/muse to the designer, whose own suicide three years before his, hit him hard. Oberman delivers a trademark classy turn, though in a show that’s all about style, if her costume is to hint at décolletage, then it needs to be tightened up to conceal the actor’s underwear. McQueen would spin in his grave…

An imaginative twist sees a soundtrack of music selected by McQueen that accompanied a number of his collection launches, with tracks ranging from Handel to Bjork and Marilyn Manson. Set to the music, Christopher Marney’s choreography is electric, with a company of androgynous mannequins drilled into a perfect graceful poise. Particularly striking are Carrie Willis and Eloise Hymas’ shock-headed twins, en-pointe in unison throughout. A chic, bravura touch.

Timothy Bird’s ingenious video projections and Linda McKnight’s stunning wig design go a long way to suggesting the ascetic élan that McQueen became a part of, though Phillips stops short of offering too close an explanation of why McQueen chose to kill himself.

In what is largely a celebration of style over substance, McQueen offers a highly charged look at a very contemporary era in British fashion. Flawed for sure, but there is content here that makes for stimulating and sometimes exhilarating theatre.

Runs until 27th June 2015

Paul Baker : A Bakers Dozen - Review

St James Studio, London

*****

Making a rare appearance in front of the microphone, Paul Baker's show A Baker's Dozen was a polished one-nighter that packed out the St James Studio.

In a set lasting little more than an hour, Baker's magnificent tenor danced over numbers familiar and new in a set-list that was to prove pleasingly heavy on Newley numbers - reminding us that this fabulous British songwriter deserves greater exposure.

Quick to flex his magnificent belt with Streisand's Being Good Isn't Good Enough, Baker was soon into the first of his Taboo tributes with Stranger In This World – preceded by a touching if painful recollection of being bullied as a kid – and that his next number was a Quentin Crisp tribute, blending Sting’s An Englishman In New York, with Taboo’s Freak / Ode To Attention Seekers stayed on message in an inspired combo.  

Fondly reflecting on Philip Henderson’s The Far Pavilions, the composer was in the audience to see Baker deliver a soaring take on Brighter By Far that had been re-arranged for the St James occasion.

As his selection went on to include Makin’ Whoopee, one wished for Baker to make an album of the American Songbook. The man displays a polished understanding of both lyric and presence, par excellence.

Performing solo throughout, there was one exception when director Frances Ruffelle (who had only recently been directed herself by Baker) joined him on stage for Nice from Lucky Stiff,  a duet that reprised their 1997 pairing from the Ahrens and Flaherty show.

Maintaining a standard of nothing short of excellent, a medley of Newley greats treated the crowd to Once In A Lifetime, The Candy Man and What Kind of Fool Am I, with Baker also un-earthing Newley’s Pagliacci-esque The Man Who Makes You Laugh. As the singer sat at an onstage make-up table, donning the pierrot’s white slap and garishly rouged lips, the song’s irony was chilling.

Accompanied throughout by Alex Parker’s quintet, the music was perfectly weighted. Parker’s understanding of the subtleties of musical direction is unmatched for one so young – and under his command the evening's musical ambience effortlessly ranged from cocktail lounge intimacy to big band bravado.

Wrapping his set with Taboo’s Petrified, a song that Baker has made his own, a few muffled sobs from the St James crowd evidenced the sensitivity of the moment.  

This show is off to New York’s 54 Below later this month and Manhattan is in for a treat. The gig offers moments that are at times reflective, spectacular but most of all and for various reasons, simply spine-tingling. When he returns from the USA, A Bakers Dozen demands a longer London run.

Missed Paul in London? You can catch him at New York's 54 Below on 19th May.

Scott Alan & Cynthia Erivo: Home Again - Review

St James Studio, London

*****

Coming in the midst of the London Festival of Cabaret, Scott Alan leaves a very distinctive handprint on the genre. Typically contemplative, his songs touch emotions that are common to us all - love and loss, rejection and reflection. It is however in Alan's sharing of his life with his audience, (where his pre-song spiel can often last longer than the song itself) that he re-engineers cabaret. Where earlier in the week this pied-piper of songwriting had assembled a phone-book sized guest list of artists to sing his work, tonight was one of a three-night residency simply featuring Cynthia Erivo alongside the songwriter. 

I have written before of Erivo's handling of some of Alan's most sensitive work and as Broadway beckons, it is plain to see that she is not only one of Alan’s most cherished friends, she is also fast becoming a muse to his creativity.

With one of the strongest yet most perfectly controlled voices of her generation, Erivo brings a polished fragility to Alan’s soulful verse, her take on And There It Is displaying an almost ethereal impishness as her lightly smiling face belied a lyric of complex emotions.

When the pair occasionally duetted, their sensitive counterpoint added a depth. Always, which ended the first half was exquisitely rendered and later it was to be Alan who (surprisingly) delivered the opening lines of Anything Worth Holding Onto before Erivo joined him in a song of remarkable profundity that she has long laid claimed to. 

The act one closer was preceded by a confessional to the microphone of the painful loss Alan still feels for Kyle, an ex-boyfriend now deceased. As Alan sobbed at the microphone, there was a sense of witnessing a man on a high wire, as this gifted composer continues to challenge his demons, though any hint of audience prurience or of performer-sensationalism should be swept aside. Alan continually battles his depression and chooses to do so, at times in public and at a piano. His message to those who criticise his on-stage confessionals was blunt. Knowing that his words have inspired other depressives to choose life, he values that contribution over a critic’s carping. It is impossible to fault the man’s integrity, nor to be inspired by his message.

It wasn’t entirely Alan and Erivo. Oliver Tompsett returned to the St James’ stage with a gorgeously nuanced Kiss The Air, Alan’s paean to his mother left bereft after his father’s abrupt marriage walk-out. Tompsett was also to earn an ovation when he was thrust (by Erivo) into joining her in Never Neverland, a song that was not only out of his range but one that he was also completely unfamiliar with. Tompsett rose to the challenge – and where Alan can often be a Lord of Misrule, subjecting his singers to impromptu set-list changes and additions, it was a treat to see him for once hoist with his own petard, Erivo delightfully calling the shots.

Their sold-out run ends tonight – and if Alan needs anything to hold onto at all it is knowing that whilst Erivo is in New York with The Color Purple, the two of them could pack out 54 Below every Sunday night for a year. Get ready to book your tickets, you read it here first!

Jerry's Girls - Review

St James Studio, London

****

Created by Jerry Herman and Larry Alford

Directed by Kate Golledge

Sarah-Louise Young, Anna-Jane Casey and Ria Jones

After the relative failure of Mack & Mabel on Broadway, Jerry Herman took a break from composition and embraced interior design. It might seem an unusual departure for the writer of mega-hits such as Mame and Hello Dolly! but Herman was pragmatic about the highs and lows of the industry. In 1981 however, he teamed up with Larry Alford to create a small cabaret of his greatest hits called Jerry's Girls. The production was a modest success and when La Cage Aux Folles opened two years later, Herman was hot again and with a little tweaking Jerry's Girls was given a full-blown production, first in Florida and then on Broadway.

Perhaps embracing the original concept, Aria Productions puts the emphasis on the songs rather than spectacle and feature three diversely talented performers - Ria Jones, Anna-Jane Casey and Sarah-Louise Young -  each of whom bring something very special to the table. Director Kate Golledge recognises the lightness of touch required for this style of cabaret and allows this triple-threat trio a relatively free hand to engage properly with their audience.

Musically, the highlights come thick and fast, from the clinking glasses that herald Tap Your Troubles Away to the edifying anthem I Am What I Am, delivered with steely determination by an exceptional Jones. Casey proves once again a truly versatile performer, clambering across the grand piano trilling the hilarious Nelson and yet bringing such poignancy to If He Walked Into My Life. Young's comic timing is very much in evidence throughout, no doubt honed through years on the cabaret circuit and lending an easy familiarity to the nature of La Cage Aux Folles.

In the intimacy of the St James Studio Matthew Cole's choreography only really comes to the fore with the Tap Your Troubles Away routine. What this number actually highlights is the versatility of Edward Court on piano and Sophie Byrne on woodwind, who gamely join in the routine and establish themselves irrefutably as part of the ensemble.

Jerry's Girls is however something of a misnomer. The book lists a few token references to the great performers Herman wrote for including Carol Channing, Angela Lansbury and Bernadette Peters and of course, there are his creations such as Dolly Levi, Mame Dennis, Mabel Normand, Countess Aurelia from Dear World and -  somewhat ambiguously - Zaza from La Cage. Thankfully Jerry's Boys make a few appearances and it wouldn't really be a Herman retrospective without the lyrical signature tune from Mack and Mabel, I Won't Send Roses.

Whichever way you look at it, one thing Jerry's Girls will remind you of is Herman's mastery of the musical theatre idiom. A genius of lyric as well as music, you will leave Jerry's Girls anxious for a revival of Mame or at least a desire to check out Hello Dolly! on Netflix. Of course, dedicated Herman fans will have already caught the wonderful recent production of The Grand Tour at the Finborough and have probably already booked for Mack and Mabel at Chichester.

Runs until March 15th 2015

Guest Reviewer : Paul Vale