Tarantino Live - Review

Riverside Studios, London

***

Adapted and directed by Anderson Davis

Karen Mav

Tarantino Live is a grand title - for a show that is really Tarantino’s soundtracks, live. One of the most influential filmmakers of the last 30 years, Quentin Tarantino’s work is a consistent fusion of razor-sharp scripts, performed by the greatest actors of the time, accompanied by graphically brutal violence, and all set to soundtracks that are each sensational albums of tracks that span both decades and genres.

Tarantino compilations make for eclectic listening and it is a credit to this show’s cast and band that their work so authentically conjures up the musical magic of the movies. In what is possibly the best covers set in town George Strickland’s band, brilliantly supported by occasional actor-musician contributions from the cast are sublime. Musically and vocally, the show is flawless.

But it is a foolish quest to have tried to interpolate Tarantino’s exquisite dialogue onto a Hammersmith stage. Some of the movies' most famous lines are played out, often interwoven from different stories, in sequences that are more akin to snatches from Tarantino's Greatest Hits. It is nigh-on impossible to replicate the droll irony of Samuel L. Jackson, Harvey Keitel et al, a challenge that the producers and creatives would have been wiser to avoid.  

Equally, it is the talent of Hollywood’s special effects crews that make us gasp and wince at the movies' horrific bloodshed. At the Riverside we merely smile in a kind but un-shocked manner, acknowledging the visuals that the production is trying to achieve. The one exception to this critique is the second act's car chase, taken from the movie Death Proof. This little vignette that has to be one of the finest examples of low-budget technical brilliance to be found on a London stage

All of the cast sing magnificently, but particular shout-outs to Maëva Feitelson, Karen Mav, George Maguire and Lifford David Shillingford whose work through the evening is frequently sublime.

If you’re not familiar with Tarantino’s movies you’ll find the show perplexing. If you love the man’s soundtrack choices then sit back and enjoy how skilfully this company perform the classic numbers. In a show that could easily be trimmed by half an hour, Tarantino Live makes for an unusual night’s entertainment.

Runs until 13th August

Mrs Doubtfire - Review

Shaftesbury Theatre, London

****

Music & Lyrics by Wayne Kirkpatrick & Karey Kirkpatrick

Book by Karey Kirkpatrick & John O'Farrell

Based on the Twentieth Century Studios Motion Picture

Directed by Jerry Zaks

Laura Tebbutt and Gabriel Vick

When they hand out the Olivier Award for Best Actor in a Musical next year, look out for Gabriel Vick’s interpretation of Daniel Hillard. Vick's translation from screen to stage of perhaps the movies’ most famous nanny since Mary Poppins is nothing short of remarkable. With an uncanny vocal dexterity and pinpoint stage presence, he takes Robin Williams’ Golden Globe-winning creation and in a dazzling performance, lifts the show.

Back in the day the genius of the movie was not just in Williams’ performance, but in the  film’s ability to tell its story and its pathos with a convincing humanity. On stage, the pathos is reduced to being transmitted through song and while this musical's acting may be impressive, the songs are mostly average served with a generous helping of cheese. If there’s a musical highlight of the evening it is He Lied To Me a wonderfully pastiche'd flamenco number sung by Lisa Mathieson midway through act two.

Vick’s costuming is terrific, however his Robin Williams lookalike prosthetic face is a distraction that obstructs the connection between actor and audience. Vick's voice can be heard, but the prosthetic means the audience are never permitted to see the extent of his facial acting range. The supporting cast are all on fine form. Laura Tebbutt as Daniel's wife Miranda is an assured delight, slotting well into an essentially two-dimensional role. Similarly Cameron Blakely as Daniel’s brother Frank, is a modest part but an inspired creation nonetheless.

Jerry Zaks directs the piece with suitable Broadway pizzazz alongside Lorin Latarro’s imaginative choreography. Elliot Ware’s 10-piece band make fine work of the Kirkpatricks’ score.

Colourful and touching, Mrs Doubtfire is an affectionate take on one of the funniest stories ever told.

Booking until 13th January 2024

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

The Pillowman - Review

Duke of York's Theatre, London

****

Written by Martin McDonagh

Directed by Matthew Dunster

Lily Allen and Steve Pemberton

Martin McDonagh’s absurdist play is an exploration of the freedom of speech and the suppression of dissent. 

In a dystopian world where the writer Katurian (played by Lily Allen) and her brother Michal (Matthew Tennyson) have grown up in an abusive family and where Tupolski (Steve Pemberton) and Ariel (Paul Kaye), the two cops investigating a series of murders that appear to have been committed by the siblings are themselves damaged individuals, little is what it seems.

McDonagh messes with our minds as Katurian’s short stories blur in and out of reality, with much of the play’s narrative, both spoken and occasionally physically performed, proving horrifically graphic. 

Technically, the production’s staging is breathtaking. Allen is responsible for delivering a raft of mind-boggling monologues, proving magnificent in the role. Equally Pemberton, and Kaye in particular, are compelling policemen. Anna Fleischle’s designs hitched to Neil Austin’s lighting work and Dick Straker’s videos ingeniously blur our perceptions, contributing to the evening’s sense of profound disquiet and even moments of awkward humour.

McDonagh’s argument ultimately suggests that it is the authoritarian state that stifles ideas. While there is of course some credence to this, it is also important to note that in 2023 books are being burned and voices are being silenced, not by the authorities, but by the pile-on mobs of social media and self-appointed cultural apparatchiks who are determining what ideas are and are not, acceptable. Thus the question has to be posed: Is The Pillowman, a play first performed some twenty years ago, an already out of date cliché?

Not an easy night out by any means - but a striking and memorable piece of theatre.

Runs until 2nd September

Photo credit Johan Persson

The Third Man - Review

Menier Chocolate Factory, London

****

Music by George Fenton

Lyrics & book by Don Black & Christopher Hampton

Directed by Trevor Nunn

Sam Underwood and Natalie Dunne

Film noir clearly has an attraction for Don Black and Christopher Hampton. Having translated Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard from screen to stage, they now fix their canon on Carol Reed’s 1949 Oscar-winner The Third Man. Set to George Fenton’s score, Graham Greene’s Vienna-based story of mystery, romance and murderous corruption plays out in a modestly staged production at the Menier Chocolate Factory.

It’s an ambitious conceit to take such a tightly focused movie, famous for its shadows, intrigue and of course THAT theme tune, but Black and Hampton’s treatment under Trevor Nunn’s directing, never takes itself too seriously. Sam Underwood plays Holly Martins, the American writer (Why was it always an American writer who’s the protagonist in these tales of the 1930s and 40s? Sunset Boulevard, Cabaret etc etc) who finds himself caught up in the Austrian capital's murky black-market world as he searches for his old friend Harry Lime. Those familiar with the story will know of Lime’s treachery and it is a credit to this production as to how the serpentine twists of Greene’s plot are revealed.

Natalie Dunne smoulders with delicious contempt as femme fatale Anna Schmidt and there is an equally impressive turn from the talented Simon Bailey. The show’s ensemble make up a raft of two-dimensional characters that all add to creating the show’s Vienna-lite experience.

Above the performing space Tamara Saringer’s band are a delight, with Fenton’s score reverently acknowledging Anton Karas’ famous Harry Lime Theme from the movie, with the occasional motif. Down below, Paul Farnsworth’s set designs effectively utilise the Menier’s grimy heritage.

A loving tribute to a classic movie, The Third Man makes for an evening of charming musical theatre.

Runs until 9th September

Photo credit: Manuel Harlan

The Crucible - Review

Gielgud Theatre, London

*****

Written by Arthur Miller

Directed by Lyndsey Turner

Matthew Marsh and the girls of Salem

Transferring across the Thames to the West End, the National Theatre’s production of The Crucible, masterful last year in the Olivier, has only improved with the passage of time with Lyndsey Turner’s interpretation of Arthur Miller’s bitter allegory on McCarthyist America continuing to fuse brilliant writing with a stunning troupe of actors.

The play famously examines the Salem Witch Trials of 1692 and considers how easily truth can be upended by widely-spread canards that defy both science and belief if enough people buy into the lie. One does not have to look too far in our modern world to see the chilling parallels between 17th century Massachusetts and the 21st century Western world.

But the strength of Miller’s writing goes so much deeper than a witch-hunt on American’s eastern seaboard. His narrative tests the very fabrics of love, integrity and above all humanity.

There are some cast changes from the South Bank’s 2022 company. Brian Gleeson takes over as John Proctor the story’s fallible everyman, a farmer whose principles humble us all, with Caitlin FitzGerald now playing his wife Elizabeth. Both performances are outstanding with the pair creating a devastatingly credible love that can only end in tragedy. Matthew Marsh reprises his role as Deputy Governor Danforth, the inquisitor of the piece. Marsh is villainous yet imperious and earns our contempt without once descending into melodrama. Equally, in a modest yet critical role for highlighting the murderous madness of the times, Karl Johnson breaks our hearts as the heroic veteran Giles Corey.

And then there are the young girls on whose false testimony innocents were hung and a society devastated. Newcomers again step into these roles, with Milly Alcock's Abigail Williams and Nia Towle as Mary Warren both terrifying as they rise to the challenge of leading the story's "children" in their lies.

Drama does not get better than this. Only on until September, The Crucible is not only unmissable theatre, it is essential theatre. Just go!

Runs until 2nd September

Click here to read my review of the October 2022 production in the Olivier Theatre

Photo credit: Brinkhoff-Moegenburg

Idiots Assemble - Spitting Image - The Musical - Review

Phoenix Theatre, London

**

Written by Al Murray, Matt Forde and Sean Foley

Directed by Sean Foley

Vladimir Putin in Spitting Image - The Musical

Back in the 1980s Spitting Image was a ground-breaking TV series that brilliantly satirised the politicians and celebrities of the day with ingeniously caricatured latex puppets and scripts that mocked all. It was the time of Margaret Thatcher, in turn followed by John Major and it was also a time when to offend was a sacrosanct part of British comedy, political correctness having barely been invented.

Each episode of that show lasted for 30 minutes, short enough to keep writers on their toes with scripts and gags honed to razor-sharp accuracy and all rounded off each week with a punchy musical number that spoofed some hit record of the time with more top-notch irreverence. Peter Fluck and Roger Law were the series' sculpting geniuses whose eyes for ridiculing the great and the not-so-great was peerless. Law lends his name and his vision to this current iteration as Caricaturist Supremo and superficially at least, his inspired vision lingers on.

But a 30-minute blast of Spitting Image on the telly was to prove the medium’s perfect time slot. In a full blown West End musical, two hours proves to be too long to sustain what should otherwise be a series of brilliant jokes.

To be fair, the show’s first act has moments of platinum-plated comedy. The Royals (as was the case back in the day) get treated mercilessly by the writers, who even include an affectionately portrayed ghost of the late Queen Elizabeth II. The recently crowned King Charles III is royally ridiculed as are his sons, wife and brother Andrew and rightly so. Politicians from across the global political spectrum are on the production’s hit list, with a musical number from the Russian President, Putin On The Blitz (geddit?) being perhaps the evening’s lyrical triumph. The first half’s penultimate song has a latex Carrie Johnson leading a chorus of dancing six-foot phalli in All Men Think With Their Dicks, before a line-up of the Tory leadership sing Cabaret's chilling Tomorrow Belongs To Me while the aforementioned penises, complete with winking meatuses, ejaculate skeins of long white paper streamers before the half-time curtain falls. The smuttiest knob-gag in town, but very funny.

The second half however descends into a drawn-out charade of the already thinly-stretched plot-lines worsened by a political bias that transcends all satire and morphs into a tiresome, shallow rant. The musical's incongruous nods to the TV show's all grey John Major and all-powerful Thatcher characters were appreciated by the mostly greying audience, and the ghost-Queen’s closing number of Enjoy Yourself, It’s Later Than You Think was a neat touch, as was her being accompanied by Brian May. But they were too little, too late.

Script aside - the show is a work of impressive theatrical wizardry with the programme listing a massive technical crew. On stage in each performance, twelve puppeteers make the latex live, perfectly synching their movements to the pre-recorded dialogue and music and as should be the way with all good puppet-based shows, those dozen or so humans “disappear” from our conscious vision and we only see the characters they are animating. Equally Alexander Bermange has done a fine job with the show’s recorded backing music.

The bus pass brigade will likely enjoy this mostly anodyne fayre, but Spitting Image died a natural TV death a long time ago. It should have been allowed to rest in peace.

Runs until 26th August

42nd Street - Review

Sadler's Wells Theatre, London

*****

Music by Harry Warren

Lyrics by Al Dubin

Book by Michael Stewart and Mark Bramble

Directed by Jonathan Church

Nicole-Lily Baisden and the company of 42nd Street

Arriving at Sadler’s Wells for a month’s residency, Jonathan Church’s touring production of 42nd Street is an immaculately delivered five-star delight.

The fabled story of chorus girl Peggy Sawyer who gets her lucky break in a Broadway show when leading lady Dorothy Brock sustains an equally unlucky break to her ankle, is as old as the hills and as corny too. For such a yarn to suspend the disbelief of a hackneyed modern audience demands perfection from its performers - and Church, with choreographer Bill Deamer does just that, coaxing magical voice and footwork from across his company.

Nicole-Lily Baisden is Peggy. Outstanding in the recent Barbican-based Anything Goes, Baisden’s star now shines even more brilliantly. She captures Peggy’s initial frail vulnerability, and with a combination of her beautiful singing and mesmerising tap-dance skill, takes the audience with her on her fairy-tale journey.

Adam Garcia headlines as Julian Marsh, the demanding director of Pretty Lady, 42nd Street’s ‘show within a show’. Garcia’s musical theatre credentials are impeccable and he is compelling in both song and dance. As the villain of the piece (albeit with an ultimate heart of gold) Ruthie Henshall is similarly outstanding as Dorothy Brock with Henshall's singing, notably in I Only Have Eyes For You, proving a spine-tingling treat.

The shows comedy lines demand assured timing and confidence in their delivery. Les Dennis leads the line of featured performers carrying this responsibility and although Dennis’ remarkable background in stand-up and TV comedy gives him a raft of experience, he is a magnificent trouper who never overshadows Anthony Ofoegbu and Josefina Gabrielle in their contributions to the show’s gag content. Gabrielle also delivers moments of sung perfection in her role.

This is a production designed for the road with Robert Jones’ sets and Jon Driscoll’s projections providing a fine backdrop to the evening. If there is one small flaw it is that the ensemble is smaller than the script demands - but if the producers have understandably had to cut back on quantity, they score full marks for their show’s quality. The show’s music however sounds as if no expense has been spared with Jennifer Whyte’s 14-piece band making glorious work of Harry Warren’s classic melodies.

Shuffle off to Sadler’s Wells or catch the show touring until the Autumn. Either way, this take on 42nd Street makes for a fabulous night at the theatre.

Runs until 2nd July and then on tour

Photo credit: Johan Persson