Rock Follies - Review

Minerva Theatre, Chichester

****

Songs by Howard Schuman and Andy Mackay

Based on the television series written by Howard Schuman

Book by Chloë Moss

Zizi Strallen, Angela Marie Hurst and Carly Bawden

Chichester is fast becoming the rock capital of West Sussex, First with Assassins and now with Rock Follies, yet another show is getting its audience into the vibe with a mise-en-scene backing track of pre-show rock classics. 

Howard Schuman and Andy Mackay’s Rock Follies is drawn from Schuman’s 1976 TV series of the same name. In its day the Thames TV production was groundbreaking following an all-girl band, the Little Ladies, from its creation through to the intoxicating highs and the devastating lows of the music business. The stories pulled no punches in displaying the sexist misogyny of the era alongside the sheer ruthless commercialism of pop and rock. The drama was compelling and today, framed around Chloë Moss’ book, Rock Follies makes for a night of theatre containing some blistering performances.

Zizi Strallen, Carly Bawden and Angela Marie Hurst are Q, Anna and Dee the three performers flung together by fate and whose fictional fusion created a band that was ahead of its time, predating and by some years the real life Bananarama and the Spice Girls. All three women are sensational in their roles – and while some of Schuman and Mackay’s lyrics may stray into banality, their melodies are stunning. And when delivered by these three leading ladies, lead to performances that take the roof of the Minerva.

It is re-assuring to see Dominic Cooke’s perceptive flair, recently missed, return to his directing. Carrie-Anne Ingrouille’s choreography, honed on Six's female cast, is found to be just as exciting with half the number of leads!

Rock Follies was brilliant in its time, delivering punchy hour-long stories that in those heady pre-streaming days, created narratives that were the UK's water-cooler conversations. Running for 12 episodes, Schuman's incisive teleplays allowed enough time to fully define the characters and their interactions. Here, that 12 hours of telly is condensed into nigh-on three hours of musical, a compression that is far from flawless. The show’s unwieldy second act grapples with an untidy narrative and needs a trim, while elsewhere and far too often the supporting characters are portrayed as little more than 2-dimensional caricatures.

The wonder of this show however lies in Strallen Hurst and Bawden. As an ensemble their harmonies are delicious and in solo work, each woman sings with a unique clarity and timbre that is spine-tingling in its beauty. Indeed, with The Sound Of Music playing just across the driveway in the Festival Theatre it is likely that right now Chichester is staging some of the finest performances in the country. 

Credit too to Nigel Lilley and Toby Higgins whose musical arrangements of the score that, as well as including mostly new material, also offers up a couple of juke-box gems along the way, is inspired and their 5-piece band is sensational. Equal credit to Ian Dickinson’s sound design that not only captures the sounds of the 70s – that noise of a 10p piece being pushed into a payphone’s coinbox will go straight over the heads of anyone under 50 - but also brilliantly captures the acoustics of the three singers' public performances, whether the venue being portrayed on stage is a dingy London pub or New York’s Madison Square Gardens.

The script may creak, but the production values are gorgeous and the performances sensational. A well curated tribute to the 1970s, 

Runs until 26th August

Photo credit: Johan Persson

McQueen - Review

Haymarket Theatre, London


****

Written by James Phillips
Directed by John Caird

Carly Bawden

Making its West End transfer from the St James Theatre, James Phillips’ McQueen, a semi-biopic exploration into the psyche of fashion icon Alexander McQueen, hangs in composite parts. Just like the brown paper sizing charts we see when McQueen brings the waifish and mysterious Dahlia to his old tailors on Saville Row, Phillips has constructed a series slightly uneven vignettes, and strung them up together without stitching them into a cohesive whole. It makes for an undulating evening, that at some points is fascinating, and at others is achingly slow. However, even if seen only in glimpses, the window into McQueen's tortured mind is worth every peep.

The play is a journey, taking us through the crushing spectre of depression, right through to the euphoric discovery of inspiration. The stage is often constructed as a dream scape, with lucid video designs  by Timothy Bird latching on to the melting fragmentations of McQueen's mind, demonstrating how his fragile thoughts project not only those around him, but the very walls of his surroundings. Stephen Wight's Lee McQueen starts the show before the audience have even taken their seats, pacing relentlessly, muttering and clutching a belt with foreboding animosity. There is an edgy restlessness to the proceedings before the lights even go down, and it creates a sense of dramatic anticipation that unfortunately is never again matched during the night. Scenes leap through unspecified gaps in time, and the dreamy hallucinogenic atmosphere undercuts any kind of narrative tension as the stakes drop from beneath the characters feet. John Caird's direction shows a keen eye for the visual, and has a forceful specificity, but lacks nuance in the pacing. Some scenes linger far beyond their welcome, whilst other sections come to a dissatisfying halt just as they were building some intrigue. The humour of the opening exchanges between McQueen and his unexpected intruder, Dahlia (Carly Bawden), is a delight, but is never again revisited. There is a light tone to their banter, a dance of verbal one one-upmanship, intrigue laced with fear, fascination mixed with trepidation. It's an enticing tone to begin the show, but it falls by the wayside as the play progresses and becomes bogged down with the darker harbinger of suicide.

Wight is tasked with the exploration of these macabre themes and does fantastic work. His is a central performance of tremendous skill, investing Lee McQueen with the right amount of sensitivity, whilst also hinting at an untapped well of visceral anger towards a world that will always expect more. There's a real empathetic power to his speeches on the constant pressure to deliver  whatever is 'next', as Wight constructs an unflinchingly relatable portrait of a man waving to the expectant crowd with a fake smile and a shaking hand. Bawden also shows some impressive chops with her take on the murky girl from the tree. There is a spirited intensity and confidence to her scenes, but she also shows a knowing physicality that belies inescapable vulnerability.

What elevates the piece though, is the stunning choreography by Christopher Marney, expertly conducted by an ensemble of ghoulishly beautiful dancers. These balletic interludes both transition and invade scenes and are breathtaking whenever they feature. Dressed both as mannequins and runway models, the dancers are both nightmarish in their grotesque inhumanity and angelic in their perfection. Their movements can be stilted at one moment, and lyrical in the next, effectively echoing both the frustration and beauty of human thought and inspiration.

The meandering pace and lack of narrative focus threaten to undo McQueen at certain points, however, it succeeds with excellent performances and a sumptuous design in keeping with the artistic genius at its centre. When Caird is freed from the lightweight plot and able to examine visually the psychosis of creativity, and the abject terror of failure; the piece soars on great golden wings.

Runs until 7th November
Guest reviewer: Will Clarkson

Assassins - Review

Menier Chocolate Factory, London

*****

Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
Book by John Weidman
Directed by Jamie Lloyd

Carly Bawden and Catherine Tate

It is a thrilling, chilling intimacy that infuses the Menier's production of Assassins, Stephen Sondheim's compelling work that unfolds via the back stories of those who have taken a pot-shot at America's Presidents down the years. The audience enters a traverse space through the sinister open jaws of an oversized clown, with Soutra Gilmour's inspired design placing this show's prescribed fairground setting in a decayed theme park. Video-gamers will find more than a hint of Batman's Arkham City amidst the grotesque paraphernalia - and that's even before setting eyes on Simon Lipkin's Joker-esque Proprietor.

There is as much history as there is entertainment in this show. Broadway import Aaron Tveit is the first of the shooters, playing John Wilkes Booth, Abraham Lincoln's Confederate murderer. Booth was committed to opposing the abolition of slavery that Lincoln championed and proves to be one of the musical's few assassins who is drawn to kill purely in pursuit of a political even if reprehensible political motive. There is little that's crazy in Tveit's sensitive portrayal of a man who sees Lincoln destroying his nation and whilst many of the other assassins are executed, Booth's suicide as his captors close in, evokes a surprising pathos from the American actor.

Aside from the Proprietor, Sondheim's key narrative thread comes from Jamie Parker’s guitar-strumming Balladeer. Amidst moments of brilliant irony, Parker achieves a subtle blend of satire and tragedy as he weaves his way through the show's haphazard chronology, his final transformation, from everyman to Lee Harvey Oswald, is one of Sondheim's most chilling creative concepts.

The power of this show lies in its construction as an ensemble piece and Jamie Lloyd has assembled a world class company to portray this clutch of infamous inadequates. Catherine Tate cleverly underplays her comic genius as Sarah Jane Moore who was to have a pop at Gerald Ford, whilst in a separate bid to kill Ford, Carly Bawden's Lynette 'Squeaky' Fromme offers up another carefully crafted slice of ditzy 1970's Americana.

Rising star Stewart Clarke electrifies (literally) as F.D.Roosevelt's would be killer Giuseppe Zangara. Clarke's last Latino turn was as Pirelli in NYMT's Sweeney Todd and this young actor's Italian job has to be seen to be believed. Andy Nyman offers a perfectly nuanced nebbish as immigrant Charles Guiteau who shot Garfield in 1881. Nyman's disturbingly hilarious reprise of The Ballad of Guiteau, complete with jazz hands as his character's corpse swings from the gallows (great stagecraft from Freedom Flying) must rank as one of the most ghoulish moments in the canon.

Canadian Mike McShane is perfectly placed as the oft forgotten Samuel Byck, a middle-aged unemployed salesman who plotted to fly a 747 into Nixon's White House. Lumbering on stage in a Santa suit and in a role that credits him with no sung solos but rather rambling monologues, McShane leads the company in Assassins' most portrayal number, Another National Anthem. (And if McShane is one day cast as Willy Loman, remember that you read it here first)

Lipkin is an assured force throughout - and as each President is in turn shot at, he dons a paper target on head, back or torso, inviting gunmen to take aim. His is a performance (that also includes his acclaimed puppetry skills), that like the show itself, is as exciting as it is thought provoking. With no interval, Assassins proves to be a relentless roller-coaster ride. The most famous assassination of them all, that of John F. Kennedy in Dallas, sees the Menier's stage flooded in crimson petals, mimicking the famously televised bloody horror that the world witnessed in November 1963. 

As one of London's visionary directors and a creative force who consistently brings a perceptive flair, often sprinkled with just a hint of carnage, there was an inevitability that Jamie Lloyd would want to tackle this troubling show. His execution is flawless, ably supported by musical director Alan Williams' interpretation of Sondheim's complex melodies.

Sold out until March, this show is a work of genius that deserves a wider audience. A West End transfer may yet be a possibility, but nothing will match the cockpit-like intensity achieved in this versatile venue. The finale's ensemble of the assassins, guns aimed at the audience and all singing Everybody's Got The Right will, to quote Sondheim, stay with me for a long time.

Runs until 7th March 2015