Harold and Maude - Review

Charing Cross Theatre, London

****

Written by Colin Higgins

Directed by Thom Southerland

Bill Milner and Sheila Hancock

The art of telling truly great stories is in part a science. A captivating premise and fully formed characters can offer an opening for an audience to connect with a production. Occasionally it’s done well. But when the formula is perfected, the result is undeniably pure magic. 

Hopeful, joyous and hilarious, Harold and Maude is one of these instances that nudges towards perfection. It is the story of a nineteen-year-old who is deeply disconnected from the world, a much older woman who with a profound connection to life and their effect upon one another after meeting at a funeral. Yet while much may be made of the scandalous nature of the relationship for the age gap spanning several decades, to describe it in these terms alone is reductive. 

Harold Chasen (Bill Milner) perfectly articulates the façade that a young man might put up to shield himself from a mother’s projections on to her son. Mrs Chasen (Rebecca Caine) is a formidable yet not monstrous woman, desperate only for her son to grow up and take responsibility, but in the form of a respectable marriage. It is, after all, all she knows.

As Harold spends more time with Maude, we witness how he blooms beneath her revitalising effect. She has lived so many lives, while Harold has yet to live one and the contrast is stark.

Sheila Hancock as Maude is utterly captivating; a magnetic, technicolour whirling dervish, it should come as no surprise that Harold falls in love with her. She is spectacularly lovable and unbelievably believable.  

A snappy – yet not rushed – script lovingly draws out the nuances in key relationships; between the titular characters, Harold and his mother, Harold and the world, Maude and the world. Amidst it all there are many things including a seal, a gong, a tree and some extraordinary paintings. None of this is superfluous, though. Everything has a part to play and bears testament to a masterful feat of set design (Francis O’Connor) and direction. 

The supporting cast are fantastically humorous and talented, alternating between bringing Michael Bruce’s score to the stage with an array of instruments and playing various characters. Samuel Townsend delivers a particularly noteworthy performance.  

When told well, coming of age stories are very often a reminder of the fragility and beauty of life, inspiring a carpe diem attitude tempered with immense gratitude. That the ‘Harold and Maude effect’ delivers this message completely liberated of any subtleties is a shining beacon of hope for humanity in otherwise trying times. Like Maude herself, it really is ‘an original talker’ and a production entirely befitting her sparkle.

Runs until 31st March

Reviewed by Bhakti Gajjar

Photo credit: Darren Bell

Flowers For Mrs Harris - Review

Crucible Theatre, Sheffield

****

Based on the novel by Paul Gallico

Music and lyrics by Richard Taylor

Book by Rachel Wagstaff

Directed by Daniel Evans

Clare Burt

Flowers For Mrs Harris marks Daniel Evans’ farewell production at Sheffield’s Crucible and he bows out premiering a musical that is elegant, charming and beautifully crafted.

Paul Gallico’s novel, set just after the Second World War tells of Ada Harris, a charlady widowed during the Great War and who, upon setting eyes on a Christian Dior dress in a client’s house, falls in love with the frock and sets about earning enough cash to buy one of her own. The strength of Gallico’s tale hangs upon Harris’ steely humble resolve in a world that has shown her few favours. Radiating an enchanted kindness to all those she encounters and inspired at first by the spirit of her dead husband with whom she shares private conversations, act one is about Ada raising the near-fortune of £500 to purchase the dress, with the second half centred around her antics upon reaching Dior’s salon in Paris.

And at risk of spoiling, that's it for the plot - save to say that this hardened critic, who was expecting to be entertained if not necessarily moved by a show about a woman and a dress, was in tears at the denouement.

Gallico’s work is a minute examination of post-war England. A time of rationed austerity, where class was prevalent and everyone knew their place. His world also demonstrates the timeless virtues of grace and kindness, demonstrating that whilst some people of power and wealth can behave like pigs, so too and on both sides of the Channel, can privileged folk act with love and compassion.

At the centre of this journey is Clare Burt’s astonishing performance as Ada Harris. A glorious everywoman, Burt makes us believe in the utmost modesty of her lifestyle and its contrast with her dazzling Dior dream. We root for her endeavours and we (literally and audibly) gasp in anguish at her setbacks and stoicism. Imagine a female Jean Valjean, only this time from Battersea, and you start to get close to the genius that lies at the heart of Burt’s creation. 

Like Valjean’s encounters in Les Miserables, it is the individuals who Mrs Harris meets on her journey that make this tale. In assembling his cast Evans has plundered the A-List of Britain's musical theatre performers, with a neat conceit seeing all the cast (Burt excluded) double up from playing one role in Battersea to another in Paris – a touch that only makes the show’s charm sparkle more.

There is much for Anna-Jane Casey to do in London as Ada’s fellow widowed charlady, Violet Butterfield. Casey nails not only nails the female camaraderie of south London working class, but after the break returning as a fag hag of a Parisian femme de ménage, she is a hilarious delight. Rebecca Caine’s opera trained voice thrills, first as a wealthy Londoner and then as the manageress of the Dior salon who learns to overcome her own prejudiced snobbery.

Laura Pitt-Pulford plays a well observed, petulant, wannabe movie actress in London, who cares little for her cleaner, Mrs Harris. But act two sees this gifted actress metamorphose into Natasha, Dior’s star model and in sporting the scarlet Rose ballgown, the highlight of the season’s collection on the Paris runway, Pitt-Pulford takes our breath away.

There's a measured dignity to Mark Meadows’ supporting work, firstly as the ghost of Mr Harris and later on as a kindly French patrician, while Louis Maskell offers some beautifully sung romance as the young André, out to woo Natasha.

Lez Brotherston’s set design suggests a bombed out Battersea, all power station and gasworks. But as the interval strikes his grim London is flown away to reveal a skyline of Paris highlights – only enhancing the magic of Mrs Harris’ arrival in the French capital. Brotherston's imagery is embellished with the imaginative use of a revolve - a further nod to Les Mis?

The costumes are magnificent with act two’s fashion show proving a jaw-dropper. But badged as a musical – and to be fair Tom Brady’s 10piece band make fine work of the score – the tunes are hard to recall and frustratingly the show’s programme does not include a list of musical numbers. One’s memory can almost almost hint at having attended a play with songs.

Either way, the show is pure class and let's hope that London producers will have travelled to Sheffield for make no mistake, the underlying production values of Flowers For Mrs Harris are exquisite. If the right West End venue were to be found then this new musical, Clare Burt, and her stellar company would surely deserve Olivier-nomination.

Runs until 4th June

Photo credit: Johan Persson

The Mikado - Review

Charing Cross Theatre, London

***

Music by Arthur Sullivan

Libretto by W.S. Gilbert

Directed by Thom Southerland

Leigh Coggins

It may not be a Christmas show, but there is still a seasonally comforting familiarity to the Gilbert and Sullivan gems that make up The Mikado. The comic opera's timeless wit alongside melodies hard wired into every educated English-person, make for a show that one cannot help but smile throughout. Thom Southerland has set the 19th century work firmly in the roaring 20's, with flappers and jazz-hands making it a Thoroughly Modern Mikado. Whilst the costumes may bizarrely range from spats and bowlers through to kimonos and a Juan Peron lookalike Mikado, everyone looks sumptuous.

Aside from costumes however there is an all-pervading air of budgetary restraint. This most clever of scores has been economically re-arranged for two pianos and notwithstanding the excellent ivory tinkling of Dean Austin and Noam Galperin, there is a timbre and a texture to Sullivan's tunes that is lost in the reduction. Vocally too and with no-one mic'd, there is an apparent gulf in ability between the actors who have an operatic background and those more usually reliant upon amplification. That Matthew Crowe's delightfully foppish Nanki-Poo is occasionally inaudible (and this from a front row seat) is unforgivable. Likewise Hugh Osborne's Ko-Ko is a treat of a characterisation, but far too often his tuneful voice lacks projection. Mark Heenehan however brings just the right amount of blustering buffoonery to the title role.

The performing excellence of this production lies with its women. Rebecca Caine's Katisha is a masterclass. Her vampish, vulnerable and (sometimes) baddy is a flawless display of perfection in her craft, her voice filling the auditorium and her presence, alongside hilarious poise and facial expression, stealing every scene. Credit too to Leigh Coggins whose Yum-Yum also belies a career history in opera and whose voice often soars (delightfully) above those of her singing partners.

There are moments of sweet genius in this Mikado. Make sure to sit near the front and revel in some wonderful songs you've known since childhood.

John Owen-Jones - Profile Of A Star

John Owen-Jones

As John Owen-Jones brings his first ever solo cabaret to the West End this week, I took the opportunity to grab a coffee with one of musical theatre’s leading men and to find out a little more about the talented Welsh tenor. With more appearances under his belt (or mask) than any other Phantom and having performed Jean Valjean on both sides of the Atlantic, Owen-Jones occupies a respected and lofty viewpoint from which to comment upon theatre today, as well as to offer some choice reflections upon his career to date.

There’s a hint of romantic good luck that surrounded his early days in the business. Leaving the (as was) Central School of Speech and Drama in 1994 Owen-Jones was the only actor to graduate without having secured an agent. What followed however was that rare turn of events that saw his exceptional abilities combine with some remarkable moments of good fortune. After an initial couple of roles in Yorkshire, an ensemble part in the West End’s Les Miserables swiftly followed, that in turn led to an invitation to join the National Theatre company to play the Liebeslieder in Sean Mathias’ acclaimed A Little Night Music. The stellar cast of the National production included Judi Dench as Desiree Armfeldt (her reprisal of the show’s Send In The Clowns being one of the highlights of the RNT’s recent 50 year anniversary celebration) and Owen-Jones valued the opportunity to work in a leading theatre company alongside industry greats. He observes however how cossetted the subsidised NT’s rehearsal process was, or is, in contrast to the harsher regime that faces commercially staged productions.

As well as offering him a chance to work close up with Stephen Sondheim, his stint at the National saw him well placed to be pitched into a return to Les Mis when his South Bank time was up. Working back at the Palace Theatre and cast in the minor roles of Factory Foreman and Grantaire as well as First Cover Valjean, a terrible road accident rendered Phil Cavill (the incumbent Valjean) out of action. Owen-Jones was called to step up to the part, Cameron Mackintosh was impressed and almost immediately the young Welshman was cast as the youngest Valjean in the show’s history. Owen-Jones reflects even today upon how it was due to Cavill’s misfortune that he was catapulted into stardom, sanguinely acknowledging that one has to grab opportunities as they arise.

From Les Mis, Owen-Jones was put up for auditions for Phantom Of The Opera and whilst he was expecting to be cast in the modest role of Piangi and auditioning against John Barrowman, he was surprised to be offered the lead. There began an association with Lloyd Webber’s gothic, tragic anti-hero that was to last for almost 12 years. It was a part that Owen-Jones loved, though whilst he acknowledges that he could one day be tempted back to Cameron Mackintosh’s barricades, (maybe as Javert?) his days in the catacombs beneath the Paris Opera are on hold. Married (to a schoolteacher) and with children of 10 and 12, Owen-Jones found the demands of a lengthy Phantom tour conflicted with family life, convincing him to hang up that particular mask for a while.

Owen-Jones as the eponymous Phantom

Aside from Phantom, recent years have seen the performer promote his international reputation and indeed our coffee had been held up as he negotiatied some complexities with Japan. With two solo albums under his belt, he has also worked with fellow Phantom Earl Carpenter and an original Christine, Rebecca Caine in creating the touring Three Phantoms, a concert of show-tunes that spans the years but nonetheless retains a re-assuring bias towards the modern day triumphs of Les Mis and Phantom. Seeing Owen-Jones perform in the Three Phantoms in Cardiff a couple of years ago was a treat. His evident pride in his local roots and the returned warmth shouted back at him from the crowd was a joy to witness. Owen-Jones has a comfortably relaxed air in concert and cabaret, the assuredness of man who is both excellent at his craft yet one who is profoundly aware of that excellence with, a confidence that is as modest as it is talented. In a business often crowded out by oversized egos, his is a humility rarely encountered.

Keeping in touch with modern developments on stage, Owen-Jones speaks in awe of the 2013 Broadway revival of Pippin and refers to his kids (who not surprisingly have already seen a fair amount of musical theatre!) as having sat through the show “open-mouthed” in amazement. He wonders though if there is a talent-base broad enough on this side of the Atlantic that could see the show, famed for its combination of breathtaking circus skills alongside outstanding song and dance, successfully open in London. He loved I Can’t Sing!, though acknowledges that the show’s tunes were not memorable and that whilst he and his wife were crying with laughter, his kids were baffled by it. Supporting lesser known writers too, Owen-Jones has sung twice with New York composer Scott Alan in the American’s recent London gigs, once at the O2 and more recently at the London Hippodrome, engendering a warm respect between the two men, with Alan speaking warmly of his admiration for the performer, not just as an outstanding vocalist but also as a kind and compassionate man.

A spectacularly open individual, with much sage comment upon both his colleagues and the business, much of what Owen-Jones had to say had either a frankness or an irreverence that demanded that it remains off record. Unquestionably a star of the modern stage, his erudite observations on the entertainment world are the thoughts of an individual who will not suffer fools, yet commands an air of relaxed gravitas. There is not a hint of arrogance to Owen-Jones at all, just quiet, outstanding ability.

It is to the Hippodrome that Owen-Jones returns this Saturday night. With a set list that bears a nod to Joe Cocker and Tom Jones, as well as signature tunes Bring Him Home and Music Of The Night, the evening’s patter is likely to be as revelatory as the songs will be sparkling. Almost sold-out, a few tickets still remain for what is sure to be one of the capital’s most exciting cabarets this summer.

John performs in the Matcham Room at the London Hippodrome on Saturday 21st June

For tickets, visit www.hippodromecasino.com/whatson/john-owen-jones-in-concert/

The Three Phantoms

Swan Theatre, High Wycombe

*****

The Three Phantoms

The Three Phantoms features three of Britain’s finest musical theatre tenors together with outstanding support, performing an immaculately drilled whirl through many familiar show tunes, plus a few surprises too, from Broadway and the West End.

Emerging onto the stage in immaculately tailored light grey suits with purple tie and handkerchiefs and all of a uniform height, one could be excused for mistaking the Phantoms for a Virgin Atlantic cabin crew, albeit a crew whose performances are nothing less than Upper Class. In this outing, the trio comprises Earl Carpenter who conceived the show, Matthew Cammelle and Stephen John Davis. Each introduces himself with a solo, of which Davis’ Mr Cellophane from Chicago was a particular treat. With voice and acting in sweet synchronicity, Davis brilliantly extracts the complex humour and pathos that Kander and Ebb wove into the number. Alistair Barron as a supporting tenor joins the Phantoms for an exquisite Maria from West Side Story, the arrangement of the number broken down into a four part harmony being the first of some truly memorable moments.

A Phantom must have his Christine and thus soprano Rebecca Caine is introduced half way through act one. Whilst her dazzlingly tailored red evening gown, amongst the purple tinted men, continued only the briefest of hints towards the sassy Virgin Atlantic colour scheme, her outfit exuded nothing if not refined understated majesty. Not only is Caine one of the few singers in theatre to boast a classical opera training, but her enchanting features belie her considerable experience. She created Cosette in Les Miserables, played Christine opposite Michael Crawford's Phantom and went on to create that role in Canada opposite Colm Wilkinson. Caine gives a fine interpretation to I Could Have Danced All Night and accompanied by Annette Yeo and Mandy Whatsham Dunstall, the rarely heard Make Him Mine from The Witches of Eastwick proves another magical moment.

With an eye to the practicalities of a gruelling tour schedule, the music of the night has been pared down to Anthony Gabriele, musical director, on piano with a beautifully arranged cello accompaniment from Yvonne Marie Parsons. Gabriele has performed with the show since its inception and his understanding of each of the songs’ subtleties and sweet spots complements the singers like a fine wine matching gastronomy. Act one closes with a medley from Les Miserables commencing with Gabriele leaving his piano to conduct the seven voices (eight, including Parsons who downs her bow to sing) in a sublime a-capella version of  I Dreamed A Dream. The vocal beauty of this particular arrangement is breathtaking and the show should be seen if for no other reason than to experience quite what the human voice is capable of in this one song.

The Ensemble

Act two’s highlights include Earl Carpenter’s take on Matilda’s The Hammer. His Trunchbull is a cleverly crafted grotesque and it is surely only a matter of time before the RSC hire him to perform the loathsome headmistress. In a tribute to other shows based on or around Gaston Leroux’s Phantom Of The Opera, Matthew Cammelle gives a soaring Til I Hear You Sing from Love Never Dies, making one wish  for that show's return and as her solo finale, a bejewelled Rebecca Caine performs Think Of Me, hitting those glorious final stanzas with a controlled magnificence that sparked a  mini standing ovation.

The Three Phantoms is probably the finest collection of songs from the shows to be found on tour. Whilst the programme has a few oddities (three numbers from Spamalot is possibly too many), it remains packed with favourites and the production values that surround the evening are faultless. The set is simply but stylishly staged, beautifully lit and the sound is perfectly balanced. Above all the show presents four international stars of musical theatre whose talents are incomparable. Should The Three Phantoms descend upon your town, don’t miss them.

Touring until July 6

www.three-phantoms.com

Darling Of The Day

Union Theatre, London

****

Music by Jule Styne

Lyrics by E. Y. "Yip" Harburg

Book by Nunnally Johnson

Directed by Paul Foster

Katy Secombe and company

An Edwardian Englishman returns to London after many years on the other side of the world and assumes a new identity. A baddy seeks to expose him and a feisty widow desires his hand in marriage. Sounds like Sweeney Todd? Well in key plotlines maybe, but as a story, this is far more lighthearted than that of the dark and vengeful barber. Darling Of The Day is a whimsical musical based upon an enchantingly frivolous tale that notwithstanding a disappointing opening history on Broadway, eventually arrives at London’s compact Union Theatre for its European premiere.

The Darling of the title is celebrated artist Priam Farll, recently returned home, accompanied only by his loyal valet Henry Leek. No sooner back in Blighty, than Leek drops dead and a bumbling doctor mistakenly certifies his body as that of Farll. The real Farll, keen to escape the rat race of mercenary art dealers and fawning fans, siezes upon the opportunity to assume his butler's identity. Unbeknownst to Farll though, his manservant had established a romance via correspondence with perhaps one of the most assonantly named characters ever created, a Mrs Alice Challis. Love of course blossoms between Farll and Challis and the premise of the show follows the farcical course that Farll's adopted identity causes amongst the affairs both of the heart and of London's art scene.

Elegantly patrician with an almost Wildean affected air of disdain, James Dinsmore plays Farll as an eminently believable bohemian, keen to duck out of life's commitments. Beautifully voiced, amongst other numbers Dinsmore has the final solo of the show, Butler In The Abbey, which is a as funny as it is cleverly melodious. Michael Hobbs is Clive Oxford an art dealer whose ethics are non-existent. Oxford is another gentleman of apparent breeding and the interaction between these two wise and wily men is banter at its most elegant.

Katy Secombe plays Challis. She fits the bill of an ever so ‘umble but nonetheless feisty Putney woman superbly and her character’s arc from being a predatory widow in search of husband no. 2, to lovingly besotted wife is cleverly drawn. Buxom, grinning and cuddly, Secombe's Challis is a carefully concocted hybrid that bares more than a passing resemblance to Sondheim's Mrs Lovett and Lionel Bart's Nancy. She is a delight to observe throughout, even if occasionally she is caught out, singing beyond the limits of her most comfortable range.

As wealthy patron Lady Vale, Rebecca Caine’s performance is a treat. Much like a (significantly younger) Maggie Smith, Caine's pouting poise and presence, with a delightful mastery of the raised eyebrow where necessary, ensure that every barbed nuance of her character's ignorant and impressionable landed lady is to be savoured . Suffering from laryngitis on press night her songs were ably sung by Olivia Maffett.

Mention too for Matthew Rowland, who this reviewer saw not long back as Boy George in Taboo. The lad only has a modest supporting role, but his talent and presence are outstanding. Recently graduated, this remarkable young man is one to watch and he adds another dimension of quality to the show. Also in the company, Secombe's older brother Andy mops up a handful of minor characters, including a delightfully dotty judge. His face, voice and movement are a comic joy and both siblings are a credit to their legendary father Harry.

Ultimately the show is (yet another) quaint American view of England in the early 20^th century, albeit written with a touch more panache than some and one that will keep you smiling throughout and guffawing occasionally. Matt Flint choreographs imaginatively around the Union’s iron girders whilst Inga Davis-Rutter leads her 4 piece band with flair. Like a long lost painting found in the attic, Darling Of The Day is a newly discovered treasure that will be enjoyed by all who savour imaginative musical theatre.

Runs to 20th April 2013

Dress Circle Benefit - One Year On - A Review

Her Majesty's Theatre, London

*****

Today, sadly, Dress Circle, a wonderful store dedicated to all things Musical Theatre, closes its doors.

Many months ago, when closure was first signalled, two dedicated young actors James Yeoburn and Stuart Matthew Price, almost Blues Brothers like, put together a show that culminated in a glorious August 2011 evening at Her Majestys Theatre that was a stunning line up of the West End's finest.

I reviewed the show then, but it has not been until now that my review , which had been lost, has now re-surfaced. Its a pleasure and an honour to re-post it. The store was amazing, and the evening was stellar.

JG

Remember The Blues Brothers, on a mission from God, to save the orphanage they grew up in?

Fast forward 30 ( ok, almost 33...) odd years,  swap the orphanage for Dress Circle, and replace Jake and Elwood Blues  with Stuart Matthew Price and James Yeoburn, and you start to get close to the magic of the Gala concert that graced the stage at Her Majestys

The one thing that both that movie and the Gala had in common was the most outstanding line up of artistes, wishing to be associated with the project.

Simon Lee had rehearsed his 30 piece orchestra to perfection – listening to them, it was hard to believe that this was the first public performance of that ensemble, and that they were not in fact performing that set together 8 times a week.

Without exception ALL the performers on stage were outstanding.

For this writer, though the "ultra-stellar" moments of such an evening, came from those rare moments when the persona of the actor got so wrapt within the performance, that they were truly giving of their soul.

Rebecca Caine sang Think of Me 25 years after her on-stage Christine.  An operatic  performance of crystal delivery, that as she herself tweeted  "I was so overwhelmed by the emotion and ovation I nearly cried. It was like a wall of sound hitting me". With Frances Ruffelle too, spines tingled as A Heart Full of Love was recreated with Jon Robyns.

Then there was the Ellen Greene moment. Ellen was listed in the programme as singing Between, from Betwixt, in the first half. She was great. What the audience did not realise was that she had actually been expecting ( and rehearsing ) to sing Somewhere That’s Green, from Little Shop of Horrors having gone to the effort of having her Audrey wig flown over to London specially for the song.  So when Aled Jones, the evening’s host, interrupted the second half, to introduce this unlisted addition to the evening, the audience went wild .

When that song was first recorded Greene's voice had a wonderful almost hallmark fragility to it. Now, some 25 years later ( and perhaps following the tragic death of Howard Ashman?) singing the song was hard. As Ellen sang, she struggled in what what was clearly a difficult moment. But in a defining expression of excellence, she pulled the performance back, and as the bars rolled by she didn’t just sing the song, she positively nailed it.  On the final notes, as the audience almost to a man rose to salute her,  she wept.  To witness such a performance was more than a joy, it was a privilege.

Dougal Irvine and Laurence Mark Wythe delivered their specially composed number for the night, The World of The Show, that not only evoked the wit of Noel Coward, but also left one confident that the future of British musical theatre composition is in safe hands.

The penultimate number , Bui Doi from Miss Saigon had the inimitable Peter Polycarpou reprising the role of John that he created, backed by a youthful chorus of current West End professionals , again raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

To quote Oliver, could I have possibly asked for more from an evening of such riches? Well to my mind, a nod to Rogers & Hammerstein and Kander & Ebb would not have been out of place, nor would the acknowledgment perhaps of the current contribution of Juke Box Musicals to the strength of current West End / Broadway box office takings. Whilst the trend for JBMs is arguably blocking the path for new writing, those shows do nonetheless, and on a weekly basis, provide musical theatre entertainment for thousands and further, employment for hundreds more. But these greedy comments of mine are mere bagatelles when set against the wonder that was presented on stage last Sunday.

As Sardines Magazine commented " … make no mistake, there was not one person on that stage that did not shine " and as a foundation for an annual ( or  biennial at least ? ) event, Messrs Price and Yeoburn have created a precedent that will be nigh on impossible to live up to.