De Profundis

Leicester Square Theatre

****

Music and lyrics by Paul Dale Vickers

Directed by Stuart Saint

Alastair Brookshaw

Three years after his acclaimed performance as Leo Frank, imprisoned on trumped up charges in Jason Robert Brown’s Parade, Alastair Brookshaw finds himself once again behind bars. The actor who is a master of profoundly fragile strength is once more playing a prisoner of conscience, this time the author and poet Oscar Wilde, who in the late 19th century was imprisoned for gross indecency a charge that arose from his (illegal at the time) homosexuality.

De Profundis is drawn from the 50,000 word letter that Wilde wrote (but never sent) to his lover Lord Alfred Douglas, whilst incarcerated in Reading Prison. A solo performance, it is presented at the Leicester Square Theatre as the chosen show from The New Musical Project competition held earlier this year.

As with his Leo Frank, Brookshaw again astonishes. Commanding the compact stage of the (packed) Lounge space, for one hour the shows' melodies range from ballad to distinctly upbeat as this beautifully talented tenor captures the tortured soul of one of England's most celebrated writers.

Paul Dale Vickers has chosen wisely in his extracts from the original opus. From an opening reference to "we are the grotesques" in which we glean the misery of Wilde’s condition, through to the glorious melody of I Must Have Love In My Heart, a song that that gives Brookshaw a chance to fill the room with his voice, the work is a finely balanced combination of styles. 

The musical highspot of the show coincides with Wilde’s nadir, as he learns whilst imprisoned that the court has removed his children from his care. The pain is acute and Brookshaw sings How Sick The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name with such controlled rage that there is an almost Gethsemane-like quality to his treatment. It's a spine tingling moment in such an intimate theatre. 

Stuart Saint has delivered a gem in his interpretation of this new writing. Enhanced by Jonny Dickie's subtle sound design and clever lighting, the dank isolation of a Victorian jail is convincingly suggested. This ballad of Reading gaol though merits a wider audience and an auditorium with grander acoustics than a sticky-floored Leicester Square basement. Brookshaw's mellifluous tones are frequently deployed as a chorister in the splendour of both St Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey and to hear him deliver Vickers' majestic melodies in a classic venue, built with echoing walls of stone, would be a treat.

Until then, Alastair Brookshaw serves his current term until 8th June. Visitors are most definitely encouraged.

Runs until 8th June

Saucy Jack And The Space Vixens

Leicester Square Theatre, London

***

Book by Charlotte Mann

Lyrics by Charlotte Mann and Michael Fidler

Music by Jonathan Croose and Robin Forest

Directed by Stuart Saint

Jamie Birkett

Michael Fidler, the creator of Saucy Jack And The Space Vixens suggests in his programme notes that we are all Space Vixens at heart. Whilst Fidler may be right, the fact that it has taken nigh on 18 years for his celebration of disco to arrive in London's West End, suggests that there hasn't been too much demand to explore that particular zeitgeist. Fidler also says that when he wrote the show he (rather arrogantly) envisioned a "Cheers" set in outer space. Well it's safe to say that that dream also, has yet to be realised. This show is a fantastic froth of intergalactic crime busting, set against a glitter encrusted culture of a disco beat and gratuitous fetishism and if you’re sober, it’s rather dull. If you've had a couple of beers then the show may well be brilliant, but then of course you run the risk of missing out on appreciating the truly outstanding collection of talent that Stuart Saint has assembled. It's a tough call.

The cast is actually magnificent. There is not one weak link and a handful of the company are outstanding. Ralph Bogard is Jack, an outrageously flamboyant and murderous character, who made up, resembles a hungover Steve Strange in his pomp. But boy can this boy act. He holds the audience in the palm of his hand throughout and like many of the cast, gives the material far more talent than it deserves. Wonderful too is Lisa Gorgin, who masters three characters during the course of the show and whose two big solos Vulva's Tango (subtle huh?) and Space Trucking are fabulous. Big up too to David Malcolm whose transvestite Booby Shevalle is the most convincing drag turn to have been seen at the LST in quite a while. Leanne Jones, gracing a London show for the first time since becoming a mum, proves that her vocal talents have only grown alongside her ample maternal curves and she remains, as always, a delight. Finally the Offies nominated trouper Jamie Birkett again proves herself the most versatile of actresses. Impressive glittered heels giving Birkett a statuesque aura never seen before and allowing this gem of an actress to dominate the stage in a glorious trio of speech, presence and song. 

Technically, the producers need to have performed much better. Too many words are inaudible and whilst the lyrics may well not be worth listening to, it would be nice to be given the choice. And whose idea was it to have a character who has been written around being a sax player, being then made to mime his sax playing to a backing track? That is a shameful piece of corner cutting and starves both the production and the writing of some rare passionate praise that it might otherwise have garnered.

Saint writes bravely in the programme of how developing this production gave him a positive focus in life as he battled cancer and notwithstanding this critic's gripes, if the power of disco offered him such a force for good, then it is to be cheered and celebrated for nothing is more important than such a journey of recovery. But showbiz demands that such sentiment be put to one side and as a piece of musical theatre writing Saucy Jack And The Space Vixens disappoints. To mis-quote a certain phrase, whilst this show does indeed remain unpolished, it has unquestionably been rolled in an awful lot of glitter.

Runs until 15th September

Dick! - Review

Leicester Square Theatre, London


***

Written and directed by Stuart Saint





Miss Dusty O and Nathaniel Tapley

There was a spectacular opening on Leicester Square last night. No, it wasn’t the premiere of the Les Miserables movie, rather the intensely gothic made up mouth of Queen Runt, performed by Lucyelle Cliffe, firing off crude but witty obscenities at the audience of Dick!, this season's adult panto offering from the Leicester Square Theatre.

Stuart Saint has written and directed the show that is more inspired by young Whittington’s dick, than by his ultimate path to City Hall and the show’s plot, such as it is, has more holes in it than Dick’s ship the Leaky Vessel, upon which much of the action is set. Loaded with seasonally awful puns, saucy double entendres, as well as a generous helping of cheesy corn and some immaturely offensive filthy gags, there is something for everyone in this six handed romp.

The cast is a combination of seasoned performers and youthful talent. Leading the line is the wonderful drag queen Miss Dusty O, as Sofonda Cox, with a roving eye  for Dick’s manly charms. Cliffe’s evil Runt is a delightfully over the top baddy, out to thwart Dick’s ambitions. Nathaniel Tapley plays our hero’s cool sophisticated cat, with some of the evenings funniest lines enhanced by his sardonic delivery. Of the younger cast members, Rae Brogan stands out with a coquettish (cockettish?) performance as the delightfully named Alice Fitz-Nicely, a London streetwise gangsta kid who is the subject of Dick’s desire, whilst she herself is in pursuit of the key to unlock her chastity belt.

The show is bawdy, filthy and fun. Some of the jokes are hilarious (particularly when Runt, whilst pretending to be a tree, is used as a toilet)  some will offend and much of the plot is too shallow to float a canoe on, let alone the Leaky Vessel. Nonetheless, have a few drinks to loosen up the inhibitions, be prepared to be mercilessly picked on if you are in the first two rows, and enjoy one of the dirtiest Christmas nights in the West End.

Runs until 20 January