Sense and Sensitivity

Once Upon a Mattress

Ickle Pickle Productions

Belconnen Theatre

January 2019

In the programme notes, the mission statement of Ickle Pickle Productions is plainly set out; it was ‘established to provide a wide range of original entertainment to the Canberra community, as well as performance and production opportunities for children and adults of all skill levels and experience’. The current production, Once upon a Mattress, clearly fits this remit. Everyone knows the story of the Princess and the Pea, and just in case they don’t, the opening number, Many Moons Ago, sung by the Minstrel (Elliot Cleaves with an appealing delivery), spells it out through inspired use of puppetry and song. And then the show begins, with a slightly different version.

Prince Dauntless (Isaac Gordon) needs a wife, as he is clearly in possession of a good fortune, or at least a kingdom, and the whole universe knows what that means. He is a dutiful if dopey son who spends a lot of time sitting on a bench and swinging his legs while looking totally clueless. Gordon is charming and sweet in the role, but it is evident that his attributes are capital rather than cerebral. An Opening for a Princess is a sprightly tune that indicates how all the princesses have applied for the position of bozo’s bride, but been found wanting by Queen Aggravain (Deanna Gibbs) and her sidekick the Gypsy (Sarah Hull).

This is the first indication of something rotten in the kingdom; the relationship between the mother and her son is deeply troubling, as she repels all his suitors and actually wishes she were twenty years younger, so that she could… what? That’s not nice. Her husband, King Sextimus (Joe Moores), moons about in the background chasing servant girls with plates of food across the stage in a manner that is more than a little creepy. He is mute due to a curse that cannot be lifted until ‘the mouse devours the hawk’ – the metaphor is evident.

Unfortunately, no one else in the kingdom can marry until Dauntless does, which poses a problem for Lady Larken (Alissa Pearson) and Sir Harry (Steven Galinec) as Lady Larken is pregnant. Obviously this will soon become apparent, as they allude to in the none-too-subtle duet, In a Little While, which showcases Pearson’s operatic tones. Sir Harry undertakes the challenge to find a true princess to satisfy the demanding queen, and he returns with one. This princess (Alex McPherson) comes from a watery land (she sings The Swamps of Home in a charming parody of nostalgia) and is strong and brave – she swims the moat; she lifts impressive weights; she ‘wrestles like a Greek’; she drinks ‘drinks just like a lord’ – and, so she tells us, she is shy.

Alex McPherson as Princess Winnifred

The role was originally played by Carol Burnett, who made her Broadway debut and received a Tony Award nomination for her performance. It is entirely to the credit of McPherson and director Anita Davenport that the ghost of Burnett doesn’t haunt the show. Princess Winnifred the Woebegone is nicknamed Fred, which leads to the lively pre-interval Song of Love containing the catchy refrain, ‘I’m in love with a girl called Fred’. McPherson is utterly delightful with her brash and unrefined manners, displayed alongside affection for those who need assistance, and a complete disregard for convention.

Queen Aggravain chooses a test for her based on sensitivity (apparently only a true princess could feel the presence of a pea beneath a pile of mattresses), imagining that she has none due to her rustic presentation, but even the youngest of audience members knows that Fred has genuine compassion and will pass with flying colours. McPherson and Gordon make a cute couple – they play their characters with energy and brilliance in lieu of intellect; both are sweet and affable enough that one isn’t left wondering what on earth they see in each other. When Dauntless says, ‘I like – I mean, I love you, Fred’, it seems genuine and heartfelt.

Isaac Gordon as Prince Dauntless and Alex McPherson as Princess Winnifred

Once upon a Mattress was originally a shorter play, written in 1953, that was expanded for the Broadway stage. It has remained a popular choice for high school and community theatre productions ever since, although it suffers from age and uneven tone. Davenport has cut some numbers, but the show still feels as though it could do with some tightening and pruning. Some of the songs are weak: Normandy and Spanish Panic could have been trimmed from the end of the first act with no great loss, and The Minstrel, Jester and I and Nightingale Lullaby are slightly tedious fillers. Choreography by Jodi Hammond is simple and tidy, and she creates interesting shapes which fit the varying degrees of talent and experience that she has to work with, but the big dance numbers are somewhat underwhelming.

The subplot of Sir Harry and his lady love is incongruous, and introduces a curious note. Generally the show could be considered children’s theatre: the plot is straightforward; the songs are not challenging; the characters are one-dimensional; it’s a fairy-tale world. However, there is an out-of-wedlock pregnancy and the consideration of the consequences that would have on reputations at court as Lady Larken is not so much a lady in waiting as one expecting. This, a couple of ribald references about living in sin, and the fairly painful song, Man to Man Talk, in which King Sextimus has to mime the business about the birds and the bees to his hopelessly naïve son, put this beyond the realm of the young and innocent.

The gender politics are also complicated, as they often are in shows from a time long ago and far away. Although the notion itself is repellent Davenport handles the issue of women fighting over an eligible bachelor better than many a reality TV show. She can’t overcome the misogynistic stereotype of the harridan Queen, as her character hinges on the premise that women in charge are shrill and manipulative, and the retribution that the King will exact once he has returned to his ‘rightful place’ as ruler of the kingdom leaves a sour taste. However, Davenport has given the Queen a great accomplice by changing the character of the Wizard to a Gypsy, played in a comic interpretation by Sarah Hull as a perfect down-to-earth counterpoint to the Queen’s saccharine superficiality.

The split-level set (Steve Galinec) adapts to represent a ballroom, a courtyard (with off-stage moat) and a bed chamber with minimal fuss, and the bed supporting the tell-tale legume is a further example of practical and efficient design (Ikea, eat your heart out). The medieval costumes (Fiona Leach) are exceptional for the small budget from which they are created. The cast appear to be having fun and it seems as though they and the crew have worked very hard to bring this production to the stage, so if that is the avowed intention of the company; then mission accomplished.

The Minstrel (Elliot Cleaves) and the Jester (Jack Morton)

Singin' in the Rain : A Smashing, Splashing Treat!

Singin’ in the Rain
The Palace Theatre, London
August, 2012

The Palace Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue is festooned with gaily-coloured giant umbrellas to advertise its current show, Singin’ in the Rain. I got chatting to the elderly couple sitting next to me, whom it transpires come from Maidenhead. They both used to live and work in London and come to shows every week. Now they are retired and ‘only’ make it up once a month. When they heard that I’d never seen the show and didn’t know the story, they were delighted for me and, at the end, expressed joy that I should first have experienced it in ‘such an excellent version’. What lovely people!

The musical itself is joyful and exuberant, with a charming story – yes, it has one! In Hollywood in 1927 a moving picture studio is having a successful string of hits starring Don Lockwood (performed by the understudy Francis Haugen) and Lina Lamont (Katherine Kingsley). Apart from the fact that Lina is a little confused between fiction and reality, and thinks that Don is really in love with her, all is going well for Don and his best buddy Cosmo Brown (Daniel Crossley) – the best buddy role is actually very intriguing.

And then, on October 6, 1927, The Jazz Singer premiered, and the future of cinema was irrevocably altered. People wanted talking pictures. Unfortunately Lina Lamont has a ‘speaking voice that sounds like a wounded trumpet swan, and her singing voice is even worse’. No one knows what to do, despite Cosmo’s brilliant Make ’Em Laugh (ironically poor advice as the talkies ruined the careers of silent film comedians such as Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton), while the producer RF Simpson (Michael Brandon) and his assistant Roscoe Dexter (Peter Forbes) have to placate their increasingly irascible star.

Meanwhile, high on his own success, Don bumps into a girl on the street, Kathy Selden (Scarlett Strallen), who tells him that movies aren’t everything and he’s not as great as all that. Naturally he is smitten and sings almost a musical parody; You Stepped Out of a Dream. To celebrate their latest film success, a group of chorus girls leap out of a cake and perform a fabulous number; All I Do. Don recognises Kathy, whom he has been trying to track down since their earlier encounter, and attempts to intercept her during the routine.

Eventually he gets her a job at the studio on the chorus line (after a hilarious turn with the diction coach – David Lucas – and Cosmo; Moses Supposes), but she has to be hidden from Lina on set, due to a slight altercation at the party caused mainly by Kathy’s good looks and natural talent. Problems persist (not least due to Lina’s jealousy), but the couple – as they have become – are happy. With Cosmo ever-present, they form a perfect team (Good Morning is almost impossibly good-hearted) and their happiness is infectious. Not even the rain can dampen Don’s spirits, and you know what comes next...

The eponymous song is a triumph of singing, dancing and staging. One of the lighting rigs is fitted with water jets and the shallow depression in the centre of the stage fills up with water, forming a giant puddle in which Don kicks and splashes about like an over-excitable blackbird. I was pre-warned as I had seen this segment on The Royal Variety Show, and the man in the ticket office warned me not to sit in the front four rows. Those who did got a thorough soaking. It was half time, though, so they could all dry out in the interval.

It is agreed that Kathy will dub Lina’s scenes which leads to a clever piece of film/theatre work in which Kathy sings a duet with Don – Would You? – through a sort of ventriloquist arrangement. Lina discovers the deception and is wounded. Although she sings What’s Wrong With Me? for comic effect, there is a serious side to her anguish.

As the programme notes (a touch archly), ‘It is no coincidence that the character in Singin’ in the Rain who struggles with the transition to sound is a woman. There were far more actresses whose careers suffered than there were actors. It seems that even back then, audiences were more forgiving of the imperfections of male movie stars than their female counterparts.’

This is musical theatre, however, and complexity and sympathy are eschewed in favour of sweetness and pluck. Lina threatens Kathy who agrees to perform ad her back-up for one last time in a Wizard of Oz-esque man-behind-the-curtain scene. Don and Cosmo ensure there is a happy ending, but not before Kathy flees into the audience in distress. She stood a few steps away from me in the aisle and I saw ‘real tears’.

It’s a show about dancing (The Broadway Melody by Don and Company in which he sings about how he ‘gotta dance’ is an up-tempo highlight of the second act) and the finale is a smashing, splashing treat. When Don, Kathy and Cosmo emerge in bright yellow sou’westers, the audience roars with pleasure. Some parents send their children up to the front so that they can experience the puddle stomping up close and personal.

The entire cast joins in twirling umbrellas and kicking sprays of water from the stage, casting rainbows of glee as the droplets shimmer in the lights. I’m not the only one who, after two and half hours of unashamedly feel-good entertainment, leaves the theatre with a smile on my face.

Friday Five: Top Musicals

Some of my friends are currently performing in the Showbiz Queenstown production of The Sound of Music. Of course, I wish them all the very best and I'm sure they will be having a fabulous season (people seem to love this musical!) but I had to leave the country to avoid watching it. Honestly, for me it is the worst musical ever - it's so outrageously saccharine and features singing children.

When I tried to explain to Him Outdoors why I disliked it so much, I mentioned My Favourite Things, The Lonely Goatherd, Do-Re-Mi, So Long Farewell, Sixteen Going on Seventeen, Edelweiss, Climb Ev'ry Mountain, and, of course, the vomit-inducing title song. He was in total agreement, in fact I had him at My Favourite Things. I was forced to watch it once when a dear friend of mine played the part of Maria - you were excellent Pipi - but, never again.

It may be the legacy of Julie Andrews - I love Julie Andrews (and Mary Poppins is excellent, although I was disappointed that the stage musical removes some of the social history elements to make it more sentimental and less political). Perhaps that is part of the problem - no one can be her, but everyone tries, because there is so little room for interpretation. 

Anyway, it got me thinking about my favourite musicals. I'm just considering the stage stuff here. So while I love Some Like It Hot, Moulin Rouge and the film version of The Wizard of Oz (although I saw it on stage in Stratford and was very disappointed) I'm not going to count them. Maybe I'll do musical films another time? The film of West Side Story is so good that no stage version I've seen can compete.

And some date. Recently I watched Carousel for the first time, wanting to see how You'll Never Walk Alone fits in, and was disgusted by the inherent sexism. Sample dialogue: 'I loved my wife'; 'Then why did you beat her?' 'I didn't beat her, I just hit her' - well, that's alright then! While the story-line was appalling, the dancing in the big numbers such as June is Busting Out All Over is excellent.

Often one song or one scene can steal the show. The opening chords of Phantom of the Opera send shivers down my spine. The set and staging of The Lion King brought a lump to my throat when I saw it in the West End. Watching my friend in purple tights in The Producers made me howl with laughter (sorry, Matt), and the production of Showboat that I saw in Oamaru is probably the best amateur musical I've ever seen.

Other musicals can be made by the people you saw performing in them. A great Che makes a fabulous Evita; a bad Enjolras ruins Les Miserables. I have a soft spot for Jesus Christ Superstar as it was the first musical I ever performed in. I know everyone feels affection for shows in which they have performed (with the possible exception of Rush!), so I am going to include only shows that I've seen rather than been in.

5 Favourite Musicals:

1. My Fair Lady - I think this is the first musical I ever saw. I loved it. I wanted to act and sing and dance and entertain. I came home and I really could have danced all night. It's sublime. And when I saw it at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane in 2002, there was no less magic.
2. Oh, What a Lovely War! - a musical with a message: the changing mood of this has stuck with me for ever, and proves that musicals don't just have to be light and fluffly
3. Me and My Girl - musicals can be light and fluffy. This is such fun - a sensational spectacle
4. Cats - musicals don't have to have a point. All singing, all dancing felines with T.S. Elliot's words and Andrew Lloyd Webber's music - cat-tastic!
5. Chicago - I took my parents to see this in the West End in 2001. The cast (including Denise Van Outen as Roxie Hart and Alison Moyet as Mama), the staging, the music and the dancing were all fabulous. I can see what all the fuss is about.

Okay, so now tell me yours. And I am fully expecting Bad Fairy to reply with Oklahoma!

Friday Five: Best Beatles

I am currently directing a show for the Arrowtown Entertainers as part of Arrowtown Autumn Festival. It is called Beatlemania 64 and, unsuprisingly, is set in 1964 and features many songs from that era, predominately tunes by The Beatles. I have, therefore, been listening to a lot of their work over the past couple of months and have resumed my erratic relationship with their music.

When I first heard The Beatles, I loved them. They were jolly, had sing-a-long tunes, and were a lot better than most of the disco pap on the radio (I grew up in the 70s). Then I became a fan of punk. The Beatles - especially the hippy trippy stuff - was music for my parents' generation, and no self-respecting teenager listened to their parents' music: we had our own.

In later university years, their stuff was played and plundered and sampled at clubs. I appreciated their talents, thought it made for good cover material, but preferred The Stones. Then Oasis came along - the latest in a long line of Beatlemaniacs, and we had to hear all over again how wonderful they were. Everybody loved the Beatles, and if you wanted an ounce of individuality or point of difference, then they could not be your band of choice.

Now we are trying to get everyday people (who can sing but would be the first to admit they are not 'singers') to imitate their harmonies. And I am struck once again by their talent, but also their energy and enthusiasm. I'm still not a fan of the drug-addled Sgt Pepper days (I can't say I've ever heard a song that I thought would be improved by a sitar, a kazoo, or maracas - or a ukulele for that matter, but that's another story), but I admit they have produced some fine tunes in their time.

5 Favourite Beatles Songs:

1. I Saw Her Standing There - one of the first songs of theirs I ever heard, and they made teenage romance sound cool rather than ooky
2. If I Fell in Love with You - so simple and effective and honest
3. Eight Days a Week - happy, happy, happy, and then they throw in a minor chord or two for the angst
4. Eleanor Rigby - I'm a sucker for a cello and the double string quartet arrangement on this track is excellent. Like Simon & Garfunkel's A Most Peculiar Man, the year before, it was quite a shock for a happy go lucky band to sing a song about loneliness, isolation and depression - and it was so good!
5. Paperback Writer - love the intro; love the harmonies; love the heavier bass; love the lyrics - as a wannabe writer myself, I would probably have to say this is my favourite!

Why do I sing?

Eamonn McNicholas, a fellow performer recently asked the question, 'Why do I sing?' He is doing a project on the answers and would like as many as possible, so please go to his blog and leave your comments.

I thought about this question and realised that I always have - I used to sing at school and in the church choir. I always just liked the release it seemed to give me, and I was told I had a decent voice. I sang for myself, all the time, around the house and while out walking or playing in the back garden. We had a 'no singing at the table' rule in our house, which I can only assume was because I used to do it to an annoying extent.

I copied and mimicked, and I invented my own tuneless little ditties. As I grew up a bit, I discovered harmonies, and I loved to play around with those. And then I discovered that I could entertain others by singing (people will listen to a song in a way that they won't listen to a poem or a Shakespeare soliloquy). Children love it, whether you are soothing recalcitrant babies or making up little routines with nieces and nephews, they appreciate the music. And this was a gift. My siblings didn't sing. I guess it was my point of difference. I assumed the role of family entertainer.

When I started doing musical theatre and singing in more discerning circles I soon realised that although I may be considered good, I would never be accounted great. This didn't particularly bother me (I had discovered that I prefered 'straight' acting and plays anyway) as I sang purely for fun and not for acclaim. It was social - once again, people are more likely to join in a song with than they are a recitation of one of Arthur Miller's more poignant speeches.

And it releases emotion and endorphines. I usually use sport for this - running, cycling, swimming, yoga, or even a brisk walk can make me feel better both mentally and physically. Until I was injured and on crutches, unable to exercise. I missed the buzz and the outlet. I went for a sing with some friends. I expelled air and opened up my lungs, controlling my breathing and tuning in to those around me. I felt those endorphines again - it was a natural high and I just really enjoyed it.

So, in short, I suppose that's my answer - I sing because I enjoy it. What about you?

Juke Box Jury

All Shook Up, Showbiz Queenstown
Memorial Hall, Queenstown
19 - 28 May, 2011

Does the world of entertainment really need another juke box musical, or have they become a dime a dozen? Your response to that question will determine your reaction to Showbiz Queenstown’s latest offering; All Shook Up.

Their marketing trumpeted, ‘The story’s all new; the songs are all Elvis’, which is wrong on both counts. The story is pretty much all Shakespeare – a haphazard mix of the more basic elements of Twelfth Night and As You Like It. Girl (Natalie) likes boy (Chad) but he likes someone (Miss Sandra) else so she dresses as boy to get his attention and he falls for her/him resulting in much confusion and hilarity. Subplots involve misdirected letters (in this case a Shakespearean sonnet), forbidden love, and discovering love that was beneath your nose the whole time. And it’s all set in 1950s bubblegum, small-town, Middle America without the racial tension; it really is all white here.

Elvis wrote very few of his own songs – in fact out of the 26 songs in the show, he only wrote two; Heartbreak Hotel and Don’t Be Cruel. Although they were all popularised by him, the fact that they were penned by others works in his favour. Musical arrangements by Stephen Oremus have transferred the numbers into something new and different, from the show-stopping Can’t Help Falling in Love in fabulous four-part harmony, to the spectacular Devil in Disguise as Mayor Matilda Hyde (Jo Blick) admonishes the hip swivelling roustabout Chad (James Stephenson) in a rocking country/gospel number, complete with angelic host and restrained demons.

Emily Burns as Natalie Haller (the female mechanic who attempts to fix Chad’s broken motorbike and then become his side-kick; trying to sidle her way into his affections) has a great vocal range, and her rendition of Love Me Tender in her deeper ‘male’ register is excellent. The singing is of a uniformly superb standard, and Julie Anne Molloy as Sylvia delivers the stand-out vocal performance with There’s Always Me, which blends emotion and technique to perfection.

A huge plaudit must go to the band (under the musical direction of Cheryl Collie), which performs on stage hidden behind a curtain for most of the show, and keeps the tempo cracking along. As is typical of this style of musical, the songs do nothing to further the action but they are entertaining – a couple behind me were playing ‘guess the song’, which with the standard of dialogue really wasn’t hard. At times the show drags a little as the songs are shoehorned into the script and, although the choreography (Tiffany Menzies) is excellent, the dancing is often lacklustre. Some of the best physicality came from Jim Haller (Chris MacKenzie) who displays some great wobbly legs and bad jelly shaking, as Chad teaches him to dance in yet another of the Footloose moments.

The minimalist nature of the set worked well, allowing for some interpretative staging. The moving statues were eye-catching (makeup by Ella Chaney), while the mimed bus in It’s Now or Never, and the Mayor’s ‘car on roller-skates’ (‘driven’ by the comically taciturn Sheriff Earl – Paul Halsted) drew appreciative applause from audience. The space (and even bare stage at times) should afford the characters room to develop, but there is nowhere for them to go.

Nowhere is this more evident than the story of Dean (Samuel Farr) and Lorraine (Nicole Graham). The role of the buttoned-up conformist aching to break free is perfect for the meerkat-like Sam, and Lorraine has a great and powerful voice with a hint of country grunt, but the story under-sells their talents. Half-way through Act One they have already paired up to the disapproval of their parents, and that’s pretty much it.

In the original, Lorraine is African-American, which adds a whole new dimension to the Mayor’s reluctance for her son, Dean, to form a mixed race relationship – remember the Civil Rights Act wasn’t passed for another ten years. She is more than just a snob, as she is portrayed here; she has serious issues to consider. When Lorraine, Dean and Chad sing If I Can Dream (with lyrics such as 'If I can dream of a better land, where all my brothers walk hand in hand, tell me why oh why oh why can't my dream come true?') the Martin Luther King echoes would be deafening. 

The racial aspect also tempers Jim's feeling for her mother, Sylvia - he has so far overlooked her for romance although he is happy enough with friendship. Director Bryan Aitken has had to work around this (presumably due to the performers who presented at auditions) which he does very smoothly, although the absence of this tension leaves the musical a touch flat.

The character of Chad is equally one dimensional. He rides into town to touch the juke box (positioned on the side of the stage throughout) to make it play, and he infects the town with music and passion. And then what? James Stephenson struggles with the role; trying to make a shallow, image-obsessed philistine seem appealing to a gaggle of women is no mean feat, and he over-uses hand gestures to declare emphasis. He finds some subtlety with the duet You’ve Got to Follow That Dream; sung with Natalie, this is touching and inspiring duet on the first night, but it turned into a Showbiz Idol sing-off later in the season.

His rival, Dennis (Caleb Dawson-Swale) has delightful timing when he focuses, and his geeky, twitching nervousness belies a soulful centre. Although vocally a little weak, he proves his acting ability with a completely different role from last year’s (equally competent) the Artful Dodger in Oliver! Miss Sandra (Caroline Pegna) delivers the songs that suit her range well (One Night With You and Hound Dog do; Let Yourself Go patently doesn’t). She has the best line of the show – “You marry your cousins don’t you?” – and is the only character other than Natalie who is permitted any development. Her conversion to prim museum curator to flirtatious seductress is obvious but well executed.

One further bouquet must go to Emma Newell who designed the programme to look like a record (half of the cast have probably never seen one before). This sets the scene before the first chord is strummed. It’s a fun, bright, rollicking, toe-tapping, dispensable, candy-floss show; unimaginative and not particularly demanding for actors and viewers alike, although the singing can be challenging. It features a predominantly young cast and will probably be a favourite among high schools. It’s child’s play and boy, do they have fun at play-time!

'Tis a Silly Show!

Monty Python’s Spamalot
The Ambassador Theatre Group Ltd
New Victoria Theatre, Woking
20-25 September 2010

Because the musical ‘lovingly ripped off from’ Monty Python and the Holy Grail is co-written by Eric Idle, it retains the essence of Flying Circus, while introducing a new musical theatre element. From the opening scene of the peasants debating the flight mechanics of different swallows, interrupted by King Arthur, his faithful servant Patsy, and his invisible steed (represented, of course, by clattering coconut shells) we are in familiar territory.

Much of the enjoyment of the show comes from working out how on earth they can stage your favourite scenes, such as the Black Knight (‘it’s just a flash wound’); the killer rabbit; the Knights who say ‘Ni’. These are all excellently and amusingly rendered with the correct amount of silliness, although the witch burnings are sadly cut ‘for health and safety reasons’.

Plenty of dialogue is lifted directly from the film, so you know what they are going to say next, but they do it so well! King Arthur is the lead as he never was in the film, and stand-up comic Marcus Brigstocke’s quick wit, comedy timing and audience-interaction are spot-on. Todd Carty may forever be Tucker Jenkins to my mind, but he also makes a credible Patsy, by both name and nature faithfully following his master. Hayley Tamaddon is simply brilliant as the Lady of the Lake – a demanding diva with a powerful voice and overpowering ego.

All the actors double up, as they did in the original, to play minstrels, mothers, fathers, French taunters, various other knights, and Tim the Enchanter. The sets are superb, and the clever use of staging makes steps across the stage seem like epic treks. Costumes and choreography are equally glitzy and flash, especially in the riotous He is Not Dead Yet or the sumptuously silly Knights of the Round Table. While this is a first-rate feel-good musical, it also mocks the entire genre and ridicules an art-form that attempts to take itself seriously.

One of the tasks that the knights must perform to obtain the Holy Grail (along with producing a shrubbery and chopping down a tree with a herring) is to perform a hit musical. In the song, You Won’t Succeed in Showbiz they regret that they won’t be able to rise to this challenge as it doesn’t matter how good your actors, songs or show is; no one will come and see it if you haven’t got a star. This tongue-in-cheek attitude (as they are surrounded by stars of stage and screen) is carried through to the singing of I’m All Alone by the entire company.

In her fairy godmother moment, the Lady of Lake delivers Find Your Grail; a delightful climb-every-mountain-achieve-your-dream song. Hayley Tamaddon is equally impressive in her sardonic duet with Marcus Brigstocke; The Song that Goes Like This, which mines every cliché of the Andrew Lloyd-Webber songbook, because as we all know, “Once in every show/ There comes a song like this/ It starts off soft and low/ And ends up with a kiss”. Her scene-stealing moment, however, is The Diva's Lament in which she bemoans her lack of stage-time; “Whatever happened to my part? It was exciting at the start. Now we're halfway through Act 2/ And I've had nothing yet to do.”

It is that absurdity that makes the show what it is; in fact King Arthur reflects, “Let’s not go to Camelot; ‘tis a silly place”. The cheap puns are duly groaned at from the expensive forest rather than an extensive one, to a cymbal chiming when King Arthur requests a symbol. Sir Lancelot (a versatile Graham MacDuff) pondering why someone has swallowed the missing mug when the knights are asked to search for the grail within themselves, is something you might hear down the pub, if you lived in a village with a load of very funny and irreverent inhabitants. The humour only misses its mark on one occasion – the stereotypical gay characters are dated enough to remind you that the author is from the Are You Being Served? generation.

On the whole, however, this is a high-energy, fast-paced show with an electric blend of highbrow and slapstick humour. The second act opens with Always Look on the Bright Side of Life, even though it is from The Life of Brian. This can be forgiven, as it adds to the overwhelming feel-good factor of the old-fashioned, entertaining musical – as they used to be before they got too bombastic.

Incidentally, I was lucky enough to go to an ‘assisted performance’ where a lady interpreted the whole show through sign language at the side of the stage. Although I don’t speak any sign language (apart from a couple of select words taught to me by my cousin), I found her compulsive viewing. She did a brilliant job of delivering the spoken word to another audience and her performance of the new expression from the Knights who no longer say ‘Ni’ was spectacular.

Oliver! It's a fine show

After the glut of (admittedly well-deserved) self congratulation that surrounded last year’s bombastic production of Les Misérables, Showbiz Queenstown have triumphed with their bright and breezy interpretation of Oliver!

Director Stephen Robertson is a stickler for detail, which is evident in the overall look of the show. Costumes, set and lighting combine to create the effect of a Bruegel painting in which splashes of colour illuminate a highly-styled background. Colourful silk handkerchiefs are judiciously used for everything from set-dressing, dancing props and the pickpocket scene.

The music (under the direction of Cheryl Collie) is befittingly bold as brass. It is a delight to hear the bassoon, although the French horn occasionally drowns the singers and there are a few technical issues with the balance of sound. Choreography is handled expertly (also by Stephen Robertson) with strong moves that engage the children and fill the stage. Both the workhouse 'boys' and Fagin's gang are charmingly proficient.

The adult company assist in the slick scene changes that allow few pauses for breath, and their ensemble numbers are vibrant highlights. Who Will Buy can be a difficult and messy number but this is a huge success – the soloists add a piquant edge to the forthright professionalism of the morning’s traders. Often standing at convergent angles and with sweeping side-to-side movements familiar from the Ascot Gavotte, the company bring the bright shiny morning bustlingly to life.

The Artful Dodger (Caleb Dawson-Swale) is full of nervous energy and rapid gestures like an out-of-control tic-tac bookie – I would definitely want to be in his gang. Energy bursts off the stage as he leads the company in the remarkable Consider Yourself, enhancing the Wurlitzer fairground attraction atmosphere. The dance itself is three parts Lambeth Walk to two parts Macarena and has everyone in the audience tapping their feet. The reprise also makes a fantastic ending, my only quibble being that this should come after the bows, leaving an overwhelming impression of music and company rather than figures shuffling off the stage in the half-light.

Most satisfying of all in this production are the solid outbreaks of acting, seldom seen in amateur musicals. Fagin (Marty McLay) praises Nancy’s acting but he is obviously the consummate performer here, always trying to ‘win friends and influence people’ by whatever means possible. Desperate to please or persuade, he acts many roles with rolling eyes and waggling fingers but never crosses the line into pantomime.

McLay eschews the stereotypes to make his Fagin uniquely human. He uses the street urchins for private gain, unconcerned with their welfare, and his attitude to Nancy is despicable. He is pleasant when he can afford to be but ultimately selfish and greedy, caring for no one but himself; John Key would be so proud.

Nancy (Fiona Stephenson) is also excellent. She brings extra vigour and authenticity, a natural compassion for the children, and a sense of fun. Earthy and gruff, she sings guttural songs which suit her gutter origins and has natural interjections, although some are a little modern (‘Listen up?’).

The compact stage works in the show’s favour making the action up close and personal. Empathy with the characters is encouraged so there is an intimacy often absent from musical theatre. When Nancy briefly regrets her errant lifestyle ‘Not for me the happy home, happy husband, happy wife’ it is profoundly touching.

There is no honour among these thieves; they may play games and be jovial but they won’t stand up for each other. A nice subplot hints at Dodger’s affection for Nancy, but he won’t take on Bill Sikes (a brutish and menacing David Oakley). They are all afraid of being alone and friendless – Fagin keeps a caged bird for company, and Dodger admits with a touch of sadness, that he “ain’t got no ‘hintimate’ friends.”

Oliver (Angus Reid) avoids the mawkish sentiment that mars many orphan Olivers, as he is presented with a succession of patently unsuitable parent substitutes. At the workhouse he suffers the wonderfully manipulative Widow Corney (Kathleen Brentwood) and the suitably pompous and disturbingly lecherous Mr Bumble (Mark Ferguson).

After causing a disturbance (committing the heinous crime of asking for more gruel) he is sold to the Sowerberrys (Nick Hughes and Amy Taylor) with their sneering disdain and unfoundedly high opinion of themselves. Their duet, That’s Your Funeral, cuts and thrusts with barbed comments, making Mr Bumble’s well delivered, ‘I don’t think this song is funny’ all the more entertaining.

Oliver fits most suitably with Mr Brownlow (David John) and Mrs Bedwin (Jane Robertson whose calm understanding contrasts delightfully with Nancy’s fiercer instincts). The cameo roles are all generally strong, although a couple of the males are teetering on the cusp of caricature – if they plunge over that precipice as the season persists it will be to the detriment of the show.

The ending is always problematic in this musical as all the loose ends are hastily tied up and the implausible explanations offered, but the cheeky Cockney character (and yes, it does help if you have the accent) shines through. Whereas some productions are epic and grandiose, this one is cheerfully engaging – consider yourself well in, indeed.

Nine: Screen Test

To begin, let me say I quite liked Nine, although my friend the Bad Fairy didn’t. She is a fan of musicals, both theatrical and cinematic, and this has been from screen to stage and back again.

What I didn’t know at the time, but do now, was that the original 1982 Broadway production of Nine was nominated for 12 Tony Awards and won five, including Best Musical. The writer (Maury Yeston) sought the permission of his inspiration – Frederico Fellini – to interpret 8½ (the original Fellini film based on the number of films Guido had directed to date) for stage – and has now given director Rob Marshall his blessing to make this film.

Knowing all that, I began to wonder whether if you already know the story/have read the book, you are less likely to enjoy the film. Incidentally, I saw Disgrace this weekend and although it faithfully followed the book, I wondered why anyone had bothered to make the film, unless it is just another chance to prove that John Malkovich is indeed, odd. Him Outdoors says it simply brings the story/concept/dilemma to a new audience through a different media. I do so hate it when he’s rational. (And right.)

But back to Nine. It is a male fantasy about the terminally self-obsessed writer/director Guido Contini, surrounded by glamorous women. The women have names, but these don’t matter as they are merely constructs to massage Guido’s ego and only exist in their relation to him. He is trying to write and direct the film Italia, which proves to be too big a job. Perhaps it is impossible to condense the spirit of a country into one film. A nice touch sees the lead actress, played by Nicole Kidman, adorning a billboard to promote the forthcoming film which never eventuates – in a less-than-subtle reference to the teeth-achingly dreadful Australia. I’m not surprised he has writer’s block with a plastic Madonna for a mother and a simpering ninny for a muse.

There are many elements of the film version of Chicago (which Rob Marshall also directed) such as mixing up black and white with colour shots, and interspersing a full set with a theatrical construct. Him Outdoors liked the cars and the intimation of La Dolce Vita.

I was disappointed by the lack of Italian scenery (although a few backdrops of the Coliseum and the Amalfi Coast were thrown in) and felt the script was weak considering it was penned by Michael Tolkin (who wrote the screenplay for The Player – one of my favourite films) and the late, great Anthony Minghella.

A lot of the numbers sounded as though they could have come from any other musical and only a couple stood out. This might be the fault of the ‘singers’ rather than the songs. Bad Fairy questions why they don’t get someone who can actually sing and use their voice instead; it’s not as though it’s ‘live’ so it is actually dubbed anyway. They did it to a cute kid in Berlin, while the ugly kid sang off-stage; that’s show business, folks! She reckons it lets down the integrity of the film when all the other production values are so slick. Fair point, albeit quite controversial.

And so to the cast...

The director: Daniel Day-Lewis – approaching fifty with a mid-life crisis looming (although I doubt he’ll live to 100 with his lifestyle), he assumes a role in which I would have expected to see Rupert Everett as a wonderfully burnt-out genius; he could have come straight from an Oscar Wilde play. His singing is Rex Harrison-esque and the interview scene where he fronts up to reporters with nothing yet ‘in the can’ is transplanted straight from Chicago.

The wife: Marion Cotillard – one of two people in the film who can sing. The song where she makes a dignified exit from the restaurant, insulted that the mistress has turned up (My Husband Makes Movies) is an understated delight. The one where she parodies a striptease, giving all the material trappings to the man who has already taken her soul (Take It All) was re-written for the film (originally it was a trio for her, the muse and the mistress) to showcase her wide acting and vocal range.

The mistress: Penelope Cruz – sexy but vulnerable; a good role for her, although the supposedly erotic scene (A Call From the Vatican) is like something out of one of the less ‘tasteful’ porno mags. She is used and discarded, although our sympathy is tempered when we see her husband whom she is betraying. Her brief is to be childlike and kittenish (all pouts and fluttering eyelashes) and attempt an overdose in melodramatic fashion.

The mother: Sophia Loren – she used to be beautiful when she could move her face. Now she looks like a blow-up doll and it’s hard to act when you can’t form an expression. Their scene of Italian son’s obsession with his mama and the lullaby Guarda La Luna is mawkish in the extreme. Apparently it is her spirit to whom he is appealing as she is actually dead, which would explain the death mask and the wooden acting.

The muse: Nicole Kidman – ditto. When she removes the wig and says, ‘This is me’ I wanted her to put it back on immediately. She looks like something from Mars Attacks! and with similarly out-of-this-world acting, as in completely alien. Rumour has it that Catherine Zeta-Jones was originally cast in the role but pulled out when Rob Marshall refused to expand the role for the film. She made a wise decision, although he did not. If this character were more motivational (not to mention the fact that she could actually sing and dance) it would have been easier to understand her allure over Guido and his need for her. As it is the song, Unusual Way, is weak and insipid; more tepid than Trevi.

The mentor: Judi Dench – a perennial favourite. I saw her in Merry Wives; the Musical and she has a beautiful catch in her throat which, although she is far from a ‘great singer’ makes everything she sings sound emotional. Her song, Folies Bergères (Razzle Dazzle by any other name) wasn’t great, although it was an excuse to swan around with a feather boa and who wouldn’t want that? Her relationship to Guido is similar to M’s affectionate tolerance for Bond’s roguish ways, but the costumes are better. She has a wonderful speech about the role of a director and how little they actually do in pulling together a film.

The prostitute: Fergie – the other one who can sing. Her song, Be Italian, is the one song I remember and can still hum weeks after seeing the film. I loved the staging of it, with handfuls of sand being raked through fingers and flung across the set to create powerful visual effects. I spent the rest of the film wondering how I could incorporate that into a play and who would do all the sweeping up afterwards.

The fashion journalist: Kate Hudson – still the bubbly beautiful girl reprising her role in Almost Famous. Her song (Cinema Italiano) was written specifically for the movie (and it is unashamedly a movie, rather than a film) and sounds exactly like Buenos Aires from Evita – this could have been another opportunity to showcase the glamour of Italy and yet it is set on a catwalk and in a bar.

Oliver! overload

I seem to be suffering from Oliver! overload. In what seems like a dreadfully short space of months I’ve seen it performed at Porirua and Alexandra. The Auckland Theatre Company are currently in the throes of the musical and I have just heard that my local musical society (Showbiz Queenstown) have lined it up to be next on their programme. Please God, don’t let any of my friends play the lead role of Nancy (as they did in the last two productions I saw) or I shall have to go and see it again.

It’s not that it’s bad (it can actually be pretty good), but it is certainly problematic. These are the main problems as I see them:

· The staging – there are many different scenes and settings. They range from the workhouse and the undertaker’s parlour, to the thieves’ kitchen and public house, and out into the street by way of an upper-class family home. That’s a lot to contend with.

There are some intimate scenes and some large rousing numbers. Do you have the Company at the forefront of the stage where they can dance, confining the more personal moments to the sides or the back of the stage with connotations of privacy? This is all well and good but can lose the dramatic impact if the cast are too far away from the audience.

For example the flirtation between Mr Bumble and the Widow Corney is amusing and effective if played up-close, but dull and dreary if positioned towards the back of the stage. Similarly, Nancy’s altercation with Bill can get lost if not sufficiently highlighted, and yet it is a pivotal moment of the production.

An apron extending past the proscenium arch might be a successful way to deal with this, but is potentially cumbersome and costly in many a town hall with limited space and resources. Sliding flats have similar benefits and drawbacks. Having forked out a small fortune on a revolve, Showbiz Queenstown would be mad not to utilise it to solve this predicament.

· The lighting – I once read a Guardian guide to critic-speak in which the term ‘crepuscular lighting’ was translated to mean ‘I couldn’t see a thing’. This is a problem. Yes, Dickensian London was dark and dingy – especially in the alleyways and orphanages – but the stage doesn’t have to be.

It’s necessary to convey the atmosphere while still being able to see the characters. In one performance, Nancy walked from side to side of the stage through a big black hole. I only knew she was there because she was singing at the time. If you combine the ‘can’t see’ factor with the ‘can’t hear’ factor mentioned above, you have two major difficulties that would plague any musical.

· The leads – the problem with many amateur musical societies (which most are) is that they tend to cast singers who can dance, and if they can act a bit that’s a bonus. Almost more than any other musical (with the possible exception of My Fair Lady), this show demands actors who can sing, and if they can’t dance, find them something else to do on stage. This is why, among local shows, I would always go and see whatever Geoff Turkington directs.

Apparently in one of the shows, there was a 16-year old girl recalled for the part Nancy. I’m sure she looked pretty and sang nicely, but if you have a schoolgirl playing the part of the archetypal ‘tart with a heart’ then it makes all her customers and associates appear twisted and perverted in a way that isn’t going to do your show any favours.

Incidentally, both of the Nancy’s I saw were excellent – both were past 30 and had an understanding of character that made them react well with children and abusive lovers alike.

Fagin needs to be strong and convincing. Whether you decide to play him as callous or misguided is up to the director, but you have to have conviction and consistency. I’ve seen elements of comedy, cruelty, paternalism and paedophilia in this role. That’s a lot to ask from an actor. Alec Guinness, Timothy Spall and Ben Kingsley, among others have answered the call. Just because it is a musical, there is no need to skimp on the acting talent – Rowan Atkinson is receiving plaudits for his role in the latest Drury Lane revival.

· The cameos – this is a musical that proves the adage about there being no small parts... Mr and Mrs Sowerberry, the funeral directors, are essential to establish the mood in the third scene before they disappear from the story, and Mr Brownlow, who also only turns up in the second half has a tough task to be sympathetic but not saccharine.

Bill Sykes doesn’t appear at all in the first act, and only a couple of times in the second – yet his brooding and menacing presence overshadows everything. With or without his dog, when I first read the book, this man gave me nightmares. One of Dickens’ great talents as an author that has kept him relevant throughout the ages is his brilliant creation of ‘minor’ characters. To ignore that in any version of his work is heretical.

· The children – I may have mentioned my feelings about children on stage before. This show has a lot of them. Unless they are excellent actors with proven ability, the advice would be: give them something to do and keep it strong but simple. Otherwise you get a heap of kids shuffling about on the stage looking at their feet and murmuring – their parents will find it adorable but no one else will.

Oliver is not a great character – he is a pawn in everyone else’s game and after he asks (for some reason frequently with a lisp), ‘Please sir, can I have some more?’, he doesn’t actually do a lot. He gets to sing the mawkishly manipulative Where is Love? and is then thankfully subsumed by Fagin’s gang of ragamuffins. He is possibly the one character who needs to look cute.

I fell in love with the Artful Dodger as a child. He gets all the best lines and songs and swaggers with an early eighteen-hundred cockney cockiness. Not a modern ‘what’s up bro’ or a down with the homies attitude; this could ruin his character. He has to know what it is to be in context, and act accordingly. Not many kids can do this and it can threaten the credibility of the entire production.

· The company numbers – there are some great songs in this show for the chorus. Whatever you think of Food, Glorious Food, Consider Yourself, It’s a Fine Life, and Who Will Buy?, you know the songs. Lionel Bart wrote some catchy numbers and there are plenty of sing-along tunes and some decent harmonies. The question is what to do with the people on stage? If they stand about singing there is no visual impact and if they are too busy with movement they will invariably drop their voices.

Again, a large stage with additional areas or moving furniture could help here, along with an understanding of the context. Oom Pah Pah can be the world’s worst dirge or the supreme social commentary depending on the staging. A look at a Hogarth painting suggests its true potential. Better yet, a read of the pub scene in the original book will reveal that it’s not all beer and skittles.

· The story – Dickens is renowned for his convoluted plots with outrageous coincidences that make everything alright in the end. If you haven’t read Oliver Twist you may well ask, as my friend did when we saw the musical production, ‘Who the hell is that woman?’ Oliver’s mother, Agnes, died in childbirth while at the workhouse and his father is mysteriously absent.

There is a locket, a picture, a resemblance and a dying secret, all of which is explained in the novel and glossed over in the musical. Basically, it makes very little sense – you just have to hope that no one really cares. But in the way that they are diverted by the spectacle of the show and the strength of the characterisation, not in the way of the teenager in the seats behind us who tried to persuade her mother to leave at the intervel because, 'this is so boring!'

· The social conscience – Another of Dickens’ great talents was his mastery of social commentary. He wrote with grim realism and merciless satire of the effects of Industrialism on nineteenth century England. He criticised the Poor Laws and the capitalist ethic which led to greed and debauchery and extreme poverty and crime. A pure heart was the only way to overcome this, with weapons of charity and love.

If the show emphasises the ‘knees up Mother Brown’ motif to the detriment of the dark side of Dickensian London then it simply hasn’t done its job. Musicals aren't always light entertainment - some pack a punch. If done correctly, this can be a knock-out. However, to continue the boxing metaphor, if you're not even going to try and address the social issues, you might as well just throw in the towel.

Not so miserable at all

Showbiz Queenstown’s production of Les Misérables at Queenstown Memorial Hall has sold out and has been receiving rave reviews and standing ovations. People are saying it’s better than Broadway, which proves to me that people either have very selective memories, or they’ve never seen a show on Broadway. This is not to say that it’s not very good, because it is, but I’ve seen the show in London and Manchester, and this version is very different from that of the professionals.

Firstly, let’s discuss Simon Green as Valjean. He is excellent. I have just realised I am a bit of a Simon Green groupie having seen him all around the country from Auckland (Evita) to Invercargill (Les Mis again, this time as Enjolras) via Christchurch (Rush!), and this is his best performance. His singing is as perfect as I have come to expect, but he actually acts as well. I felt his torment and, as he ages, his physicality alters convincingly as well as his voice and mannerisms so that I totally believe in him.

Usually with this musical I’m not interested in Valjean’s personal battle with Javert, or the love story with Marius and Cosette, paying more attention to the Thénardiers and the battle scenes led by Enjolras. This time the stags locking antlers was entirely intriguing.

Marty McLay in the role of Javert overcomes an unfortunate but necessary piece of miscasting. I believe he was originally cast as Thénardier but the original Javert pulled out, causing an exigent reshuffle of the remaining males. He may struggle with some of the lower notes, but what he lacks in vocal depth he more than makes up for with physical presence and is strong and imposing in his bearing.

I’m still not interested in the love-story, but that’s a plot issue. It’s ridiculous and implausible that two people can fall so passionately and devotedly in love with a single glance. Cosette (Emily Burns) hits the high notes prettily, looks good in a frock (plaudits to wardrobe manager Jan Maxwell), and her duets with Marius, particularly ‘A Heart Full of Love’, are charming. Marcus Figueroa is a fantastic find and plays embodies the part of the impressionable Marius beautifully. His ‘Empty Chairs at Empty Tables’ is truly moving.

The Thénardiers often threaten to steal the show and they nearly do so here as Marty Newell and Kathleen Brentwood work brilliantly together. They bring an edge to their characters elevating them above the merely comic, which is an easy trap to fall into. Although there are plenty of scenes in which they play for laughs (Kathleen dancing by herself is especially memorable), they retain a sense of despicable greed and sly self-interest, demonstrating their commitment to Victor Hugo’s original message about the dark side to what John Key euphemistically calls the underclass.

Rachael Gerard as Fantine is as striking as ever, and her voice has a depth and richness to counterpoint Simon’s in ‘Come to Me’. She sings both this and the incredible ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ while seated, which is a challenge she meets with aplomb and, at the risk of sounding like a Pop Idol judge, she makes them her own.

Rachael has sensitivity and strength in spades, but ironically, this very strength is problematic. I don’t for one second believe she is vulnerable and when the factory girls turn on her, I fear more for their safety than hers – she looks as though she could take them all on with one hand tied behind her back and knock them all into the foreman’s cocked hat. Incidentally, every woman does a running-from-side-to-side movement until pushed by a male character to collapse in a kerfuffle of skirts and petticoats. This may have visual impact the first time but soon grows tedious.

So too does Eponine’s (Alice Fraser) folded arms. It’s a gesture I hate to see on stage. Once or twice indicates defiance or resistance – used constantly it implies the actor doesn’t know what to do with their hands. Alice sings like an angel (albeit with an off-putting American accent) and she has pathos and angst to (literally) die for. She is at her best in ‘A Little Fall of Rain’ – while she is lying cradled in Marius’ arms we can concentrate on her beatific voice and not be distracted by her awkward gestures.

And so to the singing children. I must admit I’m not a fan in any production – ever. I have no maternal instincts whatsoever (except for cats and certain Liverpool players) and so it is a huge compliment to say that little Cosette (I’m not sure which one I saw) is not too annoying and her ‘Castle on a Clouds’ melts away without any lingering cringe. Angus Reid (who plays Gavoche) will have a bright future in theatre once he learns that shouting isn’t projecting and that nineteenth-century Parisian urchins probably didn’t krump. His confidence and stage manner are highly impressive for an eleven-year old and with discipline he could reveal great promise.

The lighting (Glen ‘Scooter’ Reid) is sombre and frequently shadowy with a heavy reliance on spot-lights. This is stunningly effective when the menacing shadows encroach on the audience during ‘At the End of the Day’ – one of my favourite songs of the show – as the chorus spit out their words with plenty of intent and purpose. It also adds to Thénardier’s ‘Dog Eat Dog’ and the backlit barricades.

Some of the big chorus numbers (such as ‘Do You Hear the People Sing?’, ‘Red and Black’ and ‘One Day More!’) lacked the impact I was expecting. As the chorus were more than competent, and formidably led by Doug Kamo both on and off stage (as Enjolras and director), I can only assume this is down to staging. Having worked in the Memorial Hall many times I am aware of its limitations as a theatrical venue. The fact that a show of this scale was produced here at all is a triumph of which the entire production and technical crew should be proud.

It’s hard to wave a giant flag from atop a barricade when you’re afraid of crashing into the lights suspended inches above your head. No matter how hard they tried, this had to detract from the grandeur of the moment. Doug Kamo has a massive job to direct this masterpiece, but he orchestrates the elements and rises admirably to the challenges. I can but imagine the hurdles he had to overcome and the technical aspects of the production are well-served.

The orchestra, which is not even in the same room (how can you do a show without it? How can the powers that be when deciding that Queenstown doesn’t need a purpose-built theatre consider this acceptable?), does a phenomenal job. The sound mixing is generally excellent (Tom Lynch) and, if the singing is occasionally half a beat behind the music, it is a credit to all involved that it doesn’t happen more often.

This socio-political understanding is lacking from some of the group numbers, (‘Red and Black’ and ‘Master of the House’ risk appearing messy) and some dynamism is missing from the characterisation among the company. The women at the factory or the men at the barricades for example, often look more concerned with standing in position and singing in tune than they do in fighting for their lives. The much-touted revolve proves more distracting than anything with cast stepping on and off like toddlers on an escalator.

However, I heard a great, if somewhat obscure, compliment from an audience member behind me: when Enjolras dies on the barricades and they revolve to reveal his prone form, she whispered, ‘You can see him breathing’. I should hope so too. For one moment there it seemed as though she had forgotten she was watching a show in a provincial town hall and thought she was transported to post-revolutionary France. As an actor and/or director, who could ask for anything more?

This Les Misérables is different to other versions I have seen and I took different things from it. It allowed me to focus more on the principals and individuals rather than the madding crowd. Doug Kamo has used the privations to his advantage and created a unique interpretation of an adored show. Highly commendable and highly recommended.