Wasted - Review

Southwark Playhouse, London


****


Music by Christopher Ash
Book & lyrics by Carl Miller
Directed by Adam Lenson

Natasha Barnes

Any musical can only be as good as its underlying book and Wasted, based upon the lives of the four Brontë siblings (3 girls and a boy) is written around a very strong core. Bursting into the Southwark Playhouse this is a brave show that celebrates the famed achievements of Charlotte, Emily and Anne and, in a marked contrast to a number of the capital's recent openings, audaciously dares to presume that its audience has a basic knowledge of classical English Literature. Wasted is a defiant and intelligent display of strong womanhood, set in era of rampant chauvinism. Not only that, but its score comes close to matching Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton with its diverse range of incorporated musical styles and sources. 

The show’s title stems from the Brontës never having lived to know the the impact that their writings were to have upon the English canon and that their lives had been little more than wasted. Carl Miller’s book sets out a clear historical arc that tracks the family’s lives in and around Haworth and their occasional ventures beyond the village. Whilst their curate father provided for the children’s every intellectual desire, remote Yorkshire left them emotionally impoverished with Anne’s heartfelt lament, No-One To Marry For Miles, defining the isolation. By way of marked contrast, when they make a first visit to the coast at Bridlington, Charlotte’s number Infinite Eternity soars with the passion of her discovering the beauty of the sea. Christopher Ash’s compositions are, for the most part, ingenious and time spanning. Tiny Magazines, sung by the Brontës when young, is a delicious a capella 4-part harmony. Elsewhere there is blues, electro and even some moments of beat-boxing, interspersed with beautiful balladry and some sometimes-wonderful rock. 

The show’s women are knockout, with Natasha Barnes storming it as Charlotte. Barnes bears an electrifying power that can conquer the biggest songs and with both (Extra)Ordinary Woman and the show’s closing title number, she takes Southwark's roof off.  Siobhan Athwal (and the show’s construct) offers an intriguing glimpse into Emily Brontë, a desperately private woman, clinging to the fringes of sanity. Yet underneath the mania we also glimpse the wild genius that created Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff. Molly Lynch is, as ever, vocally enchanting as Anne Brontë. The lesser known of the three sisters, every song Lynch delivers is a gem as she imparts a youthful wisdom to the complex role.

Molly Lynch, Siobhan Athwal, Matthew Jacobs Morgan, Natasha Barnes

Making up the quartet is Matthew Jacobs Morgan’s Branwell Brontë. While Morgan's work is flawless, the show in its current iteration is too long and were Branwell's character to be cut from a future revision, the whole piece could well become tighter.

While director Adam Lenson draws strong work from his foursome, his direction at times becomes as tangled as the mic cables that clutter the stage posing both a distraction to the audience as well as a health & safety risk to the actors. The mics are merited given the quasi-rock staging of the piece, but wireless will work better. Likewise, the overall balance of the Southwark sound mix needs a lot more work,

On a virtually bare stage. Matt Daw and Sam Waddington’s clever lighting adds both location and nuance to the show, as Joe Bunker’s band (that includes some lovely country melodies from Isabel Torres on ukulele) puts in a fine shift throughout.

Wasted doesn’t pretend to be an easy show to watch – but within it there is excellence. It is one of the finest and most carefully crafted pieces of new musical theatre writing to hit London this year.

Runs until 6th October

Photo credit: Helen Maybanks

The Rink - Review

Southwark Playhouse, London

*****

Music by John Kander

Lyrics by Fred Ebb

Book by Terrence McNally

Directed by Adam Lenson

Gemma Sutton and Caroline O'Connor

To read my fascinating interview with Caroline O'Connor, in which she talks about leaving Broadway to return to The Rink after 30 years, click here

The Rink, now on at the Southwark Playhouse for a month, is one of those shows that defines the beautiful potential of London’s off-West End theatre scene. A little known musical from giants Kander and Ebb, its first outing in the capital some thirty years ago was to be sadly short-lived. Here however, amidst Southwark’s humble thrust and away from the multi-million pound expectations of the mainstream commercial sector, there is an opportunity for this glitter-ball of a show to spin and sparkle.

With faint echoes of Sondheim’s Follies and just a hint of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Carousel too, the action plays out in a dilapidated roller coaster rink somewhere on America’s eastern seaboard. Anna Antonelli is selling the place that has been a family heirloom for generations and as the removals team arrive to clear away the decades of detritus amassed over the years, so too does daughter Angel, estranged from her mother for the past 7 years. Kander and Ebb are masters of applying perceptive wit to life’s humdrum highs and lows that define the human condition, and over the course of just one day The Rink’s narrative explores, through a series of flashbacked vignettes, these two women’s stories.

Skating across the decades, Caroline O’Connor and Gemma Sutton are mother and daughter respectively. Both performers at the top of their game, the pair bring vocal magnificence combined with an acting ability in both word and song, that can convey the subtlest of messages, with the finely nuanced denouement of the final act proving a masterclass from both. O’Connor’s casting adds a further sparkle to the show. Thirty years ago she was one of London’s earliest Angels and this return across the Atlantic, from Broadway’s Anastasia to the modesty of London’s fringe, is an artistic commitment not often seen in today’s hardened money-driven world. O’Connor has a personal heritage that draws on Ireland, England and Australia - but witness her Anna Antonelli and one could swear she’s got Italian DNA too, such is her mastery of the passion and quick one-liners that define her character’s robust resilience.

Six men make up a supporting ensemble - dipping in and out of roles as needed. They are all magnificent and convincing. Stewart Clarke shines as Anna’s long lost husband Dino and there are equally gorgeous turns from a patriarchal Ross Dawes and Ben Redfern as Lenny, a kindly nebbish who’s held a candle for Anna since they were both kids.

Producers Jack Maple and Brian Zeilinger have imbued the highest standards in The Rink. Adam Lenson’s direction is carefully observed, in what is unquestionably his finest work to date while the choreography from Fabian Aloise is breathtakingly audacious. What Aloise achieves in a tiny space, with six guys on skates has to be seen to believed, with the audience’s grins dissolving into whoops of delight. Likewise Bec Chippendale’s set design - complete with panelled floor is another marvel. Rarely is decrepitude so perfectly portrayed with Matt Daw’s ingenious lighting, Tardis-like, transporting this boardwalk fun palace back and forth through the years.

Jason Winter, Michael Lin & Ross Dawes

Sat hidden above the action, Joe Bunker’s band make fine work of this all too rarely heard score. Indeed, from this critic’s personal perspective, it has been a long, long while since seeing a show for the very first time has led to its tunes still being compulsively hummed the next morning!

Yet again, Southwark Playhouse are delivering an outstanding musical for a fraction of the price of a West End ticket. If you love the genre, it's unmissable.

Runs until 23rd June 2018

Photo credit: Darren Bell

To read my fascinating interview with Caroline O'Connor, in which she talks about leaving Broadway to return to The Rink after 30 years, click here