Notre Dame de Paris - Review

London Coliseum, London



***


Music by Richard Cocciante
Lyrics by Luc Plamondon
Directed by Gilles Maheu

Richard Charest

They say context is key and thus two things are paramount prior to watching Notre Dame de Paris. Firstly, the show is firmly of its time: with Victor Hugo’s original work having been published in 1831 and taking place in 1482, equality of any sort is lacking; the second consideration is that this is a thoroughly French production and that any comparison with its West End contemporaries is moot. The emphasis here is on the "spectacular", rather than on the musical and the distinction cannot be underestimated. 

The narrative famously charts the arc of bell-ringer Quasimodo and his love for Esmerelda; a Romany who takes a poet as a husband, falls in love with a soldier and is herself the obsession of the (celibate) Archdeacon of Notre Dame. It’s quite the love rectangle, and that’s before the soldier’s betrothed comes into play. Needless to say, it does not end well - a happy ending would be difficult to achieve and at odds with Gothic literature.

In what proves to be a curious evening There are stellar vocal performances across the board; both earnest and powerful. Gringoire (Richard Charest) sets the bar high with the first number, an ode to cathedrals that firmly channels Hugo’s original objective of persuading French society to treat these architectural masterpieces with the respect he believed them to be deserving of (Le Temps des Cathédrales). This is swiftly followed by an introduction to Clopin (a commanding Jay) and, thereafter, the dynamic between Frollo (Daniel Lavoie) and Quasimodo (Angelo Del Vecchio).

Before she even steps to the front of the stage, eyes are drawn instantly to Esmerelda (a role played expertly by Hiba Tawaji). With a headset microphone and green dress Tawaji stalks the stage in a manner reminiscent of Britney Spears’ iconic I’m A Slave 4 U 2001 MTV VMA performance. All that is missing is a Burmese python.

That’s not a bad thing, however. This is more like a concert, after all - one which takes influence from Italian opera and French pop music and the effect is at once melodramatic, rousing and bold.

The principals are supported by a troupe of acrobats and dancers, bursting with energy and colour throughout, once again making this production feel more like a concert. However there is more than one occasion during which the stage feels too big for this grand vision, and challenges the decision to put this on at one of the West End's largest venues.  

Despite the lead vocals being sung live, they sit atop a prerecorded and heavily produced backing track and while the musical support from English National Opera’s orchestra, under the direction of Matthew Brind, is a nice touch, it feels token. Ultimately it is nigh-on impossible to tell what is being performed live and what is not. Performed entirely in French, the production is localised for the British audience with surtitles set atop the stage. Given that each number’s substance is thin, the need for the textual assistance slowly wears off; watching the performers is enough to grasp the storyline. 

Ultimately this is what hinders the production from packing a punch. This is a show built on a series of songs that fail to carry a narrative thread effectively. But for a musical spectacle, perhaps that’s not necessarily too important after all.

Runs until 27th January

Reviewed by Bhakti Gajjar

Photo credit: Alessandro Dobici

Thriller Live West End 10th Anniversary - Review

Lyric Theatre, London


*****


Directed and choreographed by Gary Lloyd

Casts, both old and new, on stage for the 10th Anniversary of Thriller Live

Celebrating 10 years at the Lyric Theatre, a memorable production of Thriller Live played to a full house last night. The show has been reviewed here in the past, consistently achieving outstanding  standards.

Adrian Grant’s vision, breathed into life by Gary Lloyd’s direction and choreography, together with John Maher’s intuitive understanding of Michael Jackson’s rock, pop and soul classics has created a fusion of excellence.

Lloyd’s genius sees him craft Jackson’s music into the human form, the cast’s non-stop movement proving an immaculately drilled display of modern dance, with the timeless songs’ lyrics and harmonies only being enhanced by Lloyd’s slick, perceptive routines.

The video displays remain breathtaking in both their ingenuity and, at times, stunning simplicity, as Maher’s 5 piece on-stage band faithfully recreate the Jackson sound.

The magic of the show’s anniversary night was made all the more special by a horde of ex-company members filling the stage half way through the second act, and causing  an impromptu standing ovation , together with post show speeches from the producers as well as Grant and Lloyd, with Grant in particular referencing his own personal connection  to Michael Jackson.

Thriller Live remains the most consistently outstanding show in town. There are no moments of tedium nor, unlike nearly every other big musical in the West End, any weak songs whatsoever. Each moment is carefully crafted perfection in a production that is world-class entertainment.

Booking until 29th September

Photo credit: Betty Zapata

Violet - Review

Charing Cross Theatre, London



***


Music by Jeanine Tesori
Book and lyrics by Brian Crawley
Directed by Shuntaro Fujita

Kaisa Hammarlund

After a traumatising accident in her childhood leaves Violet with a facial disfigurement, she becomes obsessed with an Oklahoma televangelist who she believes can heal her scars and make her as beautiful as the movie stars she idolises. Hopping onto a Greyhound bus in South Carolina, she heads off on a cross-country pilgrimage, joining forces with a pair of poker-playing soldiers on the way. 

Originally debuting off-Broadway in 1997, Jeanine Tesori and Brian Crawley’s tragic yet heartening musical is remarkable in its quiet, unassuming depiction of what is slowly revealed to be a deeply entrenched self-loathing. The immense disaster of Violet’s accident and the subsequent isolation she experiences, are totally at odds with the plot’s tranquil pace. The accompanying bluesy score only further emphasises the musical’s strange, indistinct tone. Making good use of flashbacks, the plot showing Violet before the accident, together with the subsequent toll it takes upon her and her widower father. But the whole musical feels strangely nostalgic; like a series of diary entries tied together by a purgatorial bus ride. 

In the titular role, and making a short hop across the Thames from Tesori’s Fun Home that recently played at the Young Vic, Kaisa Hammarlund glows with desperate hope in a remarkable portrayal of the warring pain and optimism that drives Violet. Hammarlund makes it agonisingly clear that Violet is scarred not only physically, but emotionally and is never free of her “Otherness”. Her scarred face, although unseen by the audience, hangs phantasmal over every second of the musical. She sits hunched and walks with a clomping, stoic gait. It is as if she has learned to detract others from her scar by cultivating an image of brashness, and self-admitted insignificance; she controls how she is perceived by others in order to protect herself from the would-be tormentors that she encounters day-to-day. 

It is therefore a shame that the musical is less generous to its supporting characters. The dynamic between Violet and the two soldiers she befriends is certainly interesting, as it evolves from a bickering rapport to an uneasy love triangle, but despite a couple of excellent performances by Jay Marsh and Matthew Harvey, their insertion into the story feel rushed and underwritten. 

By the time director Shuntaro Fujita’s slick and sun-kissed production draws to a close, it’s impossible not to root for Violet’s happiness, but the plot falters in its hurry to achieve a neat ending, resulting in a finale which, albeit hopeful, remains wholly unsatisfying.

Runs until 6th April

Reviewed by Charlotte O'Growney

Photo credit: Scott Rylander

Witness For The Prosecution - Review

County Hall, London

****

Written by Agatha Christie

Directed by Lucy Bailey

Emma Rigby

Witness For The Prosecution is a glorious fusion of classic storytelling, first class production values and top-notch acting. Set amidst the oak-panelled Edwardian Baroque of the (now disused) County Hall Chamber, the Old Bailey is recreated to host a cracking yarn of a murder mystery, courtroom drama.

At risk of spoiling, the plot will not even be outlined. Suffice to say that there is skulduggery, passion, and twists and turns that will make even the seasoned theatre-goer gasp in surprise as the story unfolds. The show is very 1950s in its style, costumes, mannerisms and dialogue – and a delight of the piece is that one does not have to think too hard. The cast deliver the narrative delightfully, and at times it is as if a film-noir is being screened in person. Such is the cynicism of our times that the script can occasionally seem a little corny – but actually, the deliciously dated nuance only adds to the evening’s charm.

Lucy Bailey has coaxed magic from her newly-installed replacement cast. Jasper Britton is Sir Wilfrid Robarts QC, opposite prosecutor and professional nemesis Mr Myers QC, played by William Chubb. Britton's Robarts is a gem – a patrician who nonetheless is acutely aware of the details of the world around him. His unravelling of the facts he encounters is fresh and vibrant, and one cannot help but grin at such a well polished turn that never once descends into pastiche.

There is fine work too from Daniel Solbe as the hapless Leonard Vole, facing the noose if found guilty, together with a perfectly poised performance from Emma Rigby as his mysterious European wife Romaine. That both Solbe and Rigby are amongst a quartet of the show's players who are making their West End debuts, speaks volumes for the current cohort of actors entering the profession.

There are smaller treats too amongst the company. Ewan Stewart plays Vole's believably gritty brief, Christopher Ravenscroft is every inch an Old Bailey judge, while Joanna Brookes’ Janet Mackenzie, the murder victim’s housekeeper, is a Scottish dour delight 

Bailey’s direction is only enhanced by William Dudley’s imaginative design. Witness For The Prosecution is a quirky, quintessentially English drama that makes for a thrilling night at the theatre.

Currently booking until 1st September

Photo credit: Ellie Kurtz

Aspects of Love - Review

Southwark Playhouse, London


***


Music by Andrew Lloyd Webber
Lyrics by Don Black and Charles Hart
Based on the novel by David Garnett
Directed by Jonathan O’Boyle

Jerome Pradon and Madalena Alberto

In a rare London revival, Jonathan O’Boyle brings Aspects of Love down the M6 from Manchester’s Hope Mill Theatre to the Southwark Playhouse, delivering a show that wavers between a confection of complex cliché and a homage to the male ego.

Driving the narrative is Alex, (Felix Mosse), a man possessed with such apparent animal magnetism that he is rendered irresistible to the opposite sex from adolescent girls through to women approaching their third age. But for all that Alex may have been imbued with this Lothario-like psyche, it hasn’t rubbed off on Mosse, a young man who lacks both gravitas and vocal presence. As a consequence, too much of this production, especially in the second act, becomes literally in-credible and at times tedious. And in the #MeToo era especially there needs to be questions raised about performing a show that references a mutual love, even if non-consummated, between a 34 year old man and a child 19 years his junior.

Most of O’Boyle’s company turn in sound performances with fine work in particular from Kelly Price as Rose, the show’s leading female and Eleanor Walsh as Jenny, her daughter. The acting accolades of the night however belong to the cast’s more senior members with Jerome Pradon putting in a polished turn as George, Alex’s uncle and an incorrigible romantic. A man who hopelessly falls for any woman who chances to wear the gown worn by his first late wife, Pradon’s priapic predator masterfully steals his every scene, his acting through both song and presence proving immaculate. Madalena Alberto plays Giulietta, George’s Venetian lover. Alberto is the very essence of excellence in a role that is woefully too small for her sensational talent.

Aspects of Love, inhabiting that obscure fairy-tale world of love that Sondheim mastered far more effectively in A Little Night Music, demands flawlessness across the board if its creaking conceits are to work and the cynical 21st century disbeliefs of its audiences be suitably suspended. This requirement extends to the band too, for while Richard Bates’ trio put in a fine shift on Lloyd Webber’s score, the noble Lord's melodies crave a bigger ensemble of musicians if they are to soar effectively.

Fringe treatments of musical theatre can often be magical. Here however, a difficult story makes for an evening of uneven entertainment.

Runs until 9th February 2019

Photo credit: Pamela Raith

Swan Lake - Review

Coliseum, London


*****

Choreographed by Derek Deane after Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov

Precious Adams in Swan Lake

The English National Ballet’s 2019 Swan Lake presents one of the most famous, classic works in a production that is at once beautiful and thrilling. Derek Deane choreographs after Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov - with additional movements created by Sir Frederick Ashton - and the hallmarks of this collection of trans-European geniuses is evident throughout.

Dancing Odette / Odile is the Romanian Alina Cojocaru - with a grace and allure that reached out across the curtain. The beauty of any ballet lies, not only within the elegance of its performers or the artistic talent of its creative team, but for the piece to convey the flowing drama of the narrative - a bar that is set all the higher when the production’s underlying fairy tale is not only one of dance's most fabled yarns, but is also so strong both in its moral rectitude and its global familiarity and recognition. In this iteration at the Coliseum, the English National Ballet have more than risen to the challenge, they raise the stakes too. The much loved story - even where every chapter is known and anticipated - is delivered here with such meticulous panache that one cannot help but weep at the unfolding, underlying tragedy.

Leading with Cojocaru are Joseph Caleb as Prince Seigfried and Jeffrey Cirio as Rothbart. There is a beautiful trusting naïveté to Caleb’s work that defines the uncompromised virtue of his Prince - and this contrasts magnificently with the feathered menace of Rothbart’s wickedness – his evil persona chillingly retained even whilst sat watching the court dances of the ballet’s third act.

Conducted on the night by Orlando Jopling, Tchaikovsky’s classic score becomes a whirl of musical wonder - the detail provided at times by the harp, or even (in act 3 again) the castanets, only enhancing the evening’s symphonic majesty. Its not just the music either, as Peter Farmer’s lavish stagings, with fogs across the lake deployed perfectly alongside Howard Harrison’s lighting that provides a flawless frame to the evening.

And as for the flock of swans - the avian/aquatic grace of the ENB’s 24 strong corps de ballet provide a shimmering. fluttering magnificence to an occasion of simply divine dance.

Runs until 13th January

Photo credit: Jason Bell

The Dame - Review

Park Theatre, London


****


Written by Katie Duncan
Directed by Ian Talbot

Peter Duncan

In an impressive Duncan double-act, The Dame transfers from the Edinburgh fringe to London’s Park Theatre and makes for compelling theatre. In her first play, Katie Duncan writes, for father Peter to enact, the fictional story of Ronald Roy Humphrey a decaying dame in the twilight of his career, whose working life has revolved around winter pantomimes and summer seasons in end of the pier music hall.

Well researched, Duncan (junior) has delivered a text that captures Humphrey’s melancholy, contrasting it with a beautifully composed paean to Britain’s crumbling Victorian seaside towns. Places that were once home to frolicking fun palaces, now reduced to rusting and often burnt-out relics.

The writing is perceptive but in a 70-minute solo performance, Peter Duncan’s acting is masterful. Opening with a whirl of corny-gags and panto numbers, he takes us through Jack’s (from the Beanstalk) Mother, Widow Twankey and Pierrot, even throwing in a Punch and Judy routine too. But it is as he slowly strips off the gowns and make up, revealing the tortured soul that lies beneath the greasepaint carapace, that Duncan-pere excels. Through snatches of old music-hall numbers, we catch glimpses of his fractured mind and in a master stroke of both writing and performance, the Duncans deploy There’s A Hole In My Bucket as a discordant backdrop to the horrific physical abuse the young Humphrey suffered at the hands of his father.

The Dame is uncomfortable theatre, movingly performed. Under Ian Talbot’s assured direction, the Park Theatre have unearthed another gem.

Runs until 26th January

Photo credit: Robert Workman