Boys from the Blackstuff - Review

National Theatre, London

*

Written by Alan Bleasdale

Play written by James Graham

Directed by Kate Wasserberg

Barry Sloane

Recent weeks have seen the stage translations of two television classics from the late 20th century open in London. John Cleese’s adaptation of Fawlty Towers has been a delight - taking his claustrophobic Torquay hotel and literally transporting its set, characters and storylines across both miles and decades to create theatrical magic. James Graham’s attempt at transitioning Alan Bleasdale’s bleakly brilliant Boys from the Blackstuff however marks a departure from Graham’s typically trademark genius and proves a depressing disappointment.

In the 1980’s Bleasdale’s six teleplays, each exquisitely photographed and acted around Liverpool, spoke with wit, tenderness and tragedy as they told of the challenges faced by the city in those times. The desperation and desolation of a group of men who’d previously earned their living laying tarmac (the titular blackstuff) won the nation’s hearts. Back in the day when there were only (just) four UK TV channels, Boys from the Blackstuff, with the late Bernard Hill’s remarkable interpretation of the defiantly damaged Yosser Hughes made for sensational viewing.

Indeed, the 1980s were fertile years in which the performing arts captured Liverpool’s pain with Willy Russell’s musical Blood Brothers emerging to be a timeless gem, still packing out theatres to this day. With hindsight, James Graham should have left the era well alone. Bleasdale’s original, skilfully directed by Philip Saville, took an hour-long episode to graphically flesh out each of the series’ characters. Today’s iteration sees Graham snatch vignettes from each of those original storylines and attempt to mould them into a two-hour blob of drama. The result is shallow, crass and un-engaging, with the tragic pathos of Bleasdale’s original, sacrificed on an altar of pseudo-relevant scenery, projections and a distracting (and on this press-night, technically disastrous) soundscape. 

The play has moments of a fine portrayal of human suffering from Barry Sloane’s Yosser, but otherwise - and this is a disgrace for a show that stems from such an outstanding pedigree - the evening is a bore.

Music from the 1980s is piped into the auditorium before and after the show. The Special’s Ghost Town, playing before curtain-up, could have been foretelling the post-interval gaps that were to emerge in the audience. And indeed when the somewhat depleted throng did return to their seats after half-time, it was Paul Weller coming through the Olivier’s sound system with The Jam’s song That’s Entertainment. If only.

Runs at the National Theatre until 8th June

Then at the Garrick Theatre from 13th June - 3rd August

Photo credit: Andrew AB Photography

Standing at the Sky's Edge - Review

Gillian Lynne Theatre, London

***

Music and lyrics by Richard Hawley

Book by Chris Bush

Directed by Robert Hastie

The cast of Standing at the Sky's Edge

Transferring to the West End from an acclaimed run at the National Theatre, Standing At The Sky’s Edge charts three occupancies of a duplex home built in Sheffield’s Park Hill estate. The show’s timeframe runs from the estate’s opening as a massive social housing project in 1959, replacing a significant proportion of the city's slum accommodation, then through a period of neglect and dilapidation and finally to the estate's gentrification in the early 21st century and transition into private ownership. Park Hill was a massive development and to this day remains the largest listed work of architecture in Europe. A prominent feature of Sheffield’s cityscape, the estate's history offered a bold conceit for the musical’s narrative.

It is a disappointment therefore that Chris Bush’s book is little more than a thread of cliched agitprop observations of the duplex's three occupying households. From a newly wed steelworker and his bride escaping poverty, through to refugees fleeing civil war in Liberia and ultimately, a comfortably middle-class professional running away from London and a failed relationship, Bush shoehorns in as many passing nods to Sheffield’s social landscape of the last 60 years as she can. The collapse of the steel industry, the miners’ strike, Thatcherism and even Brexit are all acknowledged with shallow passing references, though one can only speculate as to why the child grooming scandals that also tarnished so much of the South Yorkshire region during this period, fail to get a mention.

Richard Hawley’s songs are musically beautiful but lyrically lazy - the tunes land gorgeously on the ear but their frequent repetitions of phrases suggest a lack of creative wit behind the songs’ otherwise powerful foundations. The cast, as is to be expected on a leading London stage, are all magnificent with standout performances from Laura Pitt-Pulford, Rachael Wooding and Lauryn Redding. Ben Stone's stage designs together with Mark Henderson's lighting are equally impressive.

40 years ago Willy Russell's Blood Brothers offered a far sharper musical take on the impact of Thatcherism on England's north and of attempts by planners to rehouse a city's poor. Perhaps in a site-specific venue on the estate, Standing At The Sky's Edge may have packed more of a punch. The musical opened in Sheffield in 2019 where regional ticket pricing would have made it affordable to many of the city’s residents. In the capital however, where ticket prices are comparatively eye-watering, agitprop has been replaced by champagne-socialism.

Booking until 3rd August

Photo credit: Brinkhoff-Moegenburg

Blood Brothers - Review

Richmond Theatre, Richmond

*****

Music, lyrics and book by Willy Russell

Directed by Bill Kenwright and Bob Tomson

Niki Colwell Evans and Richard Munday

The House Full signs were out at Richmond Theatre and notwithstanding that Blood Brothers is now a fixture on the GCSE syllabus leading to coachloads of schoolkids in the audience, to experience a show out-of-town and in a packed theatre was a pre-show treat in itself.

It is 40 years since the show first opened in the West End, with Willy Russell’s ingenious tale still packing a powerfully poignant punch. Niki Colwell Evans plays Mrs Johnstone, the poor young Liverpudlian mother who, on learning that she is pregnant with twins, signs a hellish pact with Paula Tappenden’s barren Mrs Lyons, to give her one of the newborn babies.

Richard Munday is the show’s grim Narrator (this Greek tragedy’s Chorus) steering the narrative, with panache, towards its infernal ending, while Sean Jones and Joe Sleight play respectively Mickey and Eddie, the hapless Johnstone twins whose lives will end so tragically. Olivia Sloyan completes the sextet of key players as Linda, the young girl who grows up as the best friend of the twins and who is to be so tragically connected to their deaths.

All six players are magnificent – with Colwell Evans proving outstanding in her take on the impoverished but loving Mrs Johnstone. Given some of the show’s best songs, she delivers them powerfully and in the finale of Tell Me It’s Not True, with heartbreaking pathos.

But it is not just the principals, it is their excellent supporting troupe that make this a grand night of theatre. The ensemble play an array of little more than two-dimensional characters, there to advance the story and it’s context and not much more. Each tiny vignette however, almost cliched in their creation, is a work of genius in itself such is Russell’s writing talent.

Russell not only captures the ghastly Johnstone/Lyons contract, he offers a chillingly perceptive dissection of English life that echoes with relevance today. Class and snobbery prevail, with the educated privileges that are showered upon Eddie, contrasting with Mickey’s far tougher journey. Eddie goes to university and becomes a city councillor, while Mickey feels the sharp end of deprivation alongside much harsher justice from the local policeman than middle-class Eddie receives.

Set in Liverpool during Margaret Thatcher’s premiership, the socio-economics of the time for the city’s working class were brutal. In Russell’s excruciatingly brilliant song Miss Jones the recession is cruelly juxtaposed against Mickey and Linda’s shotgun wedding, borne out of her unplanned pregnancy. And look closely at this musical, because there’s more than a nod to Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Carousel here too.

Throughout, Matt Malone’s six-piece band rise to the occasion with slick interpretations of Russell’s memorable melodies.

Quite simply, Blood Brothers remains sensational musical theatre. Catchy tunes, perfectly performed, and all framed around a book that is virtually flawless. This production tours for much of the year and when it comes to a town near you, don’t miss it!

Plays until 25th February, then continues on tour

Photo credit: Jack Merriman

Blood Brothers - Review

Churchill Theatre, Bromley


****


Written by Willy Russell
Directed by Bob Tomson

A heart-wrenching tale of a family ruthlessly torn apart by society and yet intrinsically linked by fate, Blood Brothers has evolved into a classic modern British musical.

Packed with strong characters, a clear purpose and an emotionally charged score, its hard-hitting social themes and doomed inevitability of death place it amongst the grandest of tales. But the story of Mickey and Eddie, the titular brothers, is unique. 

Willy Russell's script looks through the lens of two Liverpudlian families. Smartly constructed, it ensures that the audience simply cannot avoid the big questions that he wants them to think about. What defines a mother? What makes a friendship? And nature vs nurture - to what degree do people really have a hand in determining their paths in life?

And it’s not just the script – Russell’s lyrics too offer neat conceits that make us laugh and cry and are never pretentious. 

The concept of destiny is present from beginning to end. It is both artificially constructed - through the choices that certain characters make - but also, inevitably, through society. Kris Harding's Narrator with his stellar voice beautifully captures the sense of foreboding and growing desperation as the story arcs towards its tragic denouement.

Lyn Paul, playing Mrs Johnstone, is outstanding as the brothers' mother with each of her successive heartbreaks cutting to the core of the audience. As an actor, she captures every nuanced emotion perfectly and with ease. As a singer, Paul's performance is flawless.

Sean Jones is also a joy to watch with his portrayal of Mickey Johnstone’s evolution, from child to man being brilliant and clever.

The set (Andy Walmsley) is subtle – complementing the company’s performance by sitting contently in the background. Russell’s music captures the retro feel of the 60s and 70s, although at several points the reverb overpowers, masking the sung lyrics. 

Blood Brothers reduces the audience to tears, then brings them to their feet in a well deserved standing ovation.

Runs until 27th February, then tours

Reviewed by Bhakti Gajjar