Category Archives: *Ratings

I, Elizabeth (Assembly Roxy, Aug 7-9, 12-16, 19-23, 26-31 : 11:45 : 1hr 15mins)

Posted in 4*, Assembly Roxy, EdFestivals 2015, Rated: Nae Bad, Theatre by

I, Elizabeth at Edinburgh Fringe Festival Banner

“Vaughn’s command of the stage is utterly iron-fisted.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars Nae Bad

The two hardest things as an actor, at least in my experience, are to memorise your lines and then make to them appear spontaneous and real. To do so without ever losing energy, alone and over a period of a straight hour is nothing short of astounding – and, a feat which Rebecca Vaughn pulls off as Queen Elizabeth nearly effortlessly.
I, Elizabeth is a monologue act pieced together from the Tudor Queen’s assorted letters, poems and private correspondence, and offers a glimpse into the chaotic and rich emotional life behind one of England’s most memorable rulers as presented by the Queen herself.

Vaughn’s character work is undeniably slick: she channels both regality and humility so realistically and so honestly that, even watching from the front, I often forgot I was watching an act at all. And even more impressive was her talent at making irregular, Tudor-style cadence not only make sense to a modern audience, but do it so well that it becomes compelling and, when she wants it to, genuinely funny. Unlike her character’s sometimes shaky political life, Vaughn’s command of the stage is utterly iron-fisted.

But Vaughn’s considerable talent cannot suspend reality by itself, and was aided by a very talented makeup and costume team; the result being a costume with such substance and attention to detail that it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a high-budget period drama. However, just as Vaughn portrayed a partly flawed monarch, so did her performance. Occasionally her emotional energy bordered on the melodramatic, and her tight emotional u-turns sometimes meant that gaps of monologue were lost as the volume increased. And perhaps I’m simply not smart enough to understand it, but some of the tech decisions- particularly a strange, electrical jolting sound to punctuate the monologue – seemed utterly out of place in what was otherwise a very faithful historical recreation, and sometimes completely broke the show’s atmosphere.

Despite these shortcomings, the rest of the show was nothing short of regal. Vaughn should be praised for her unmistakeable dedication to character work. Short of necromancy, it seems she is the woman to call for bringing the long dead back to complex, compelling life.

 

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

—

Reviewer: Jacob Close (Seen 7 August)

Visit the Assembly Roxy archive.

THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED

The Very Grey Matter of Edward Blank (Assembly Roxy, 7 – 31 Aug : 17.35 : 55mins)

Posted in 3*, Assembly Roxy, EdFestivals 2015, Rated: Unrated, Theatre by

https://s3.amazonaws.com/assembly_production/wp-content/uploads/2015/05/The-Very-Grey-Matter-of-Edward-Blank-square.jpg

“A potential creative masterpiece whose shortcomings locked it into simply being “alright””

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars

I’m a firm believer that the human mind is one of the most complicated and amazing pieces of organic engineering the world has ever seen. Therefore, a witty, entertaining show exploring its contents is like my personal holy grail; and whilst I nearly found it in The Very Grey Matter of Edward Blank, it fell excruciatingly short of something which could have been incredible.

The show tells the story of its titular, reclusive protagonist as he struggles with his own ill mind in a desperate attempt to identify a voice on an old tape; both helped and hindered by his inner voices, who clown and joke their way through his surprisingly dark existence. A nuanced and creative genius, Blank’s goal takes him into the often nonsensical depths of his own sick psyche, and his inner voices are all along for the ride.

To start with, members of the team whose job relies on hardly noticing their work: a huge congratulations to the set and team, who succeeded in creating an on-stage apartment which was not only visually pleasing, but also functioned very cleverly in some of the most simple yet effective visual trickery I’ve seen in a long time. And similar kudos must go to the costume and makeup which went into the creation of the simultaneously ghoulish and comic “Mister Boo-bag” (whose mime work was worth every second).

With regards to the acting talent on show, Edward Blank’s mad, clowning inner characters all had flashes of utter comic genius, and showed a cohesion in their onstage chemistry which many theatre companies could take lessons from. And especial praise must be given to Sam Redway, who played the eponymous Edward, for managing to play an unstable character who remained endearing, charming and dynamic without fail.

However, this was a show which was constantly leaving me wanting to see more, and unfortunately not in a good way. I often wanted to see more energy and dynamism from most of the inner voices, who were always tantalising close to having the physicality and force to really hammer their characters home, but only occasionally hit the target. And perhaps it was a matter of the (admittedly, very witty) writing, or some fault of the occasional silences or unintended moments of stillness, but the show seemed to have a problem maintaining it’s dramatic momentum. And, even worse, the show ended abruptly with a whimper rather than a bang. I was left feeling like I’d gotten to the last glorious bites of a meal, only to have it slapped out of my hand. Had this show’s world been able to maintain itself with the extra needed force, I would have been hooked. But as it stood, I couldn’t quite get into it.

Would I see Edward Blank again? With a few tweaks, gladly. But despite strong performances and clever writing, the show’s shortcomings often ripped me out of what could have been an utterly engrossing story – and even more frustratingly, it’s weaknesses felt just a draft away from being solved. This was a potential creative masterpiece whose shortcomings locked it into simply being “alright”.

If this returns to Fringe in any altered form, I’ll be the first in line – but until then, Edward Blank left me feeling a little grey.

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

—

Reviewer:Jacob Close (Seen 7 August)

Visit the Assembly Roxy  archive.

THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED

Jurassic Park (Assembly Roxy: 5 – 30 Aug : 18.50 : 1hr)

Posted in 4*, Assembly Roxy, EdFestivals 2015, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by

“A show with so much heart mine nearly burst”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars: Outstanding

I was slightly worried, from the name, that this would be one of those overly geeky shows where the actors become a bit self-absorbed in being dinosaurs that they lose the plot – literally. Thankfully, this production strikes a wonderful balance between storytelling, humour and a moving tribute to one of the world’s best loved films.

It really is a show with everything – packed with laughs from start to finish, touching moments of tenderness, dinosaurs, family dramas, a ballad to the triceratops and even a Britney Spears dance break. More importantly, it’s performed with so much energy, love and conviction that one can’t help but be carried along with the fun.

The premise: a father (Terry) and his two children (Noah and Jade) welcome the audience to the village hall for a screening of their favourite family movie (Jurassic Park), as a tribute to Terry’s wife and the children’s mother Madeline, who died a year ago. What follows is a tale of a broken family, love, heartache… and dinsoaurs.

As a piece devised and performed by a Lecoq-trained company, it is understandably very physical, with each of the actors switching between human character, dinosaur and the cast of Jurassic Park with ease and finesse. Moments involving lifts and embodying the larger dinosaurs are particularly impressive, as is the creative use of props – who knew a rucksack could look quite so much like a Tyrannosaurus’s mouth?!

I would have liked to have seen the initial scene (in the village hall) developed throughout and have gotten to know the character of Madeline a bit better, perhaps at the sacrifice of one or two of the scenes involving the film’s reenactment. If any of these are intended to show parallels to the family’s story, the references are too subtle and disjointed to be effective. Some of the transitions between scenes also come across as somewhat forced, but in all other respects this show is hard to fault.

The cast work incredibly hard to deliver an hour of non-stop action, with personalities that really shine: Maria Askew as Jade is the perfect moody teenager, Frode Gjerløw is perhaps most impressive with his array of character changes, while Simon Maeder is just incredibly likeable – even while pretending to be a porn star!

This is a hilarious yet touching tale of one family’s coming to terms with grief through the medium of Jurassic Park, and I give it a roar of approval.

outstanding

StarStarStarStar

—

Reviewer: Steve Griffin  (Seen 6 August)

Visit the Assembly Roxy archive.

THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED

Bonsoir Monsieur Nightfall (Assembly Roxy, 5 Aug – 30 Aug : 22:45 : 1hr)

Posted in 4*, Assembly Roxy, EdFestivals 2015, Music, Rated: Outstanding by

“A voice so deep and gloriously textured you could happily drown in it.”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars  Outstanding

In French (I’m told) there’s a term “à l’ouest” which, if not taken literally, means a dreamer, or someone “from another planet”. It seems only fitting then that Helenē Clark not only made the long journey west from France to Britain, but is also utterly out of this world.

Taking inspiration from her time out on the streets, Clark’s set was an audial rollercoaster, ranging from almost stingingly raw despair to jubilation and joy. Deeply varied to say the least, but it did so without ever feeling disjointed – owing in large part to Clark’s evocative and smoky singing. She has a voice so deep and gloriously textured you could happily drown in it. Up against a gauntlet of styles ranging from junk guitar to tango, Clark’s range and tone were utterly without fault.

But the mightiest mountains do not stand alone. And whilst the main event was undeniably Clark, full credit must be given to her backing instrumentalists, who all were utterly on point with their performances and energy. Andy Shuttleworth and Dick Playfair especially impressed, the former showing off a beautiful and often mesmerising skill in fingerpicking, and the latter scoring points for utterly blowing me away with the strength and energy of his punchy jazz trumpeteering.

Of course, no show is without shortcomings. Clark’s vocal tone sometimes betrayed her enunciation, meaning that her lyrical work sometimes felt wasted as certain verses were lost to a rumbling growl. And, whilst her stories between songs added substance, they sometimes bordered on good natured but stunted rambling.
But any and all faults were immediately forgiven by the closing number, referred to cheekily by Clarke as their “Calypso Carnival”. It typified what made Bonsoir Monsieur Nightfall so engrossing: never before have I seen a group of musicians so obviously having a blast with their craft, and doing so with such sustain and finesse. Sorrowful, sultry and absurdly fun all in one, ‘Bonsoir Monsieur Nightfall’ never missed a beat.

If you can sit through this show without at least once cracking a smile, I’d recommend getting your pulse checked. This is not one to be missed.

outstanding

StarStarStarStar

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Reviewer: Jacob Close

Visit the Assembly Roxy archive.

THIS REVIEW HAS NOT BEEN SUBEDITED

‘The Children’ and ‘Mancub’ (Lyceum: 17 July ’15)

Posted in 3*, Rated: Unrated, The Lyceum, Theatre by

Mancub & The Children

“Evolutionary studies”

Editorial Rating: 3 Stars

A Lyceum Youth Theatre double bill.

It must be heroic happenstance that Mancub opened on the Lyceum stage on the same day, July 17, that Ant-Man came to a (film) theatre near you. The little guy wins out and gets out, but it’s tough going. As for The Children, performed by the senior class after the interval, it is kind of the same story but a whole lot nastier. The despairing cry is, “We’re not animals”. The shame is that no-one told the adults.

Mancub

Mancub is Douglas Maxwell’s 2005 adaptation of John Levert’s book Flight of the Cassowary. Paul is in S4. On the good days school is an adolescent aviary; on the bad days, it’s a jungle with teachers in their lairs. A diagram of the human eye is up there on the board in Biology class but Paul only sees foxy Karen (Emma Gribbon) and gulps with nerves. That’s the goldfish in him. He gets a red card in a cup game for roaring at the referee. That’s the grizzly bear in him. He makes friends with the neighbour’s dog (cute and canny Max Hampson) and they chat together. His younger brother, Wee Luke, hates Kipling’s Jungle Book but loves the Disney version. Their Mum and Dad don’t have the imagination to enjoy either.

Xana Mawick, Director, does well to put a cast of 26 on stage all the time and to keep the many episodes distinct. There’s a camera for bonus close-ups and five narrators do a good, clear voiced, job of introducing and accompanying the action. Alexander Levi is Paul, shy but plucky, and able to survive becoming the road kill of insensitive grown-ups; although Tom Borley as football coach, Susskind, is a likeable chump. Best friend Jerry, ably played by Carson Ritchie, is the smart dude with the knockout comeback lines.

The representation and/or mention of those other species, teachers, parents, gran, and – awkwardly, Neds – is a little sketchy, even foolish, but that’s evolutionary studies for you.

The Children tech

There is nothing ill-defined about Edward Bond’s The Children (2000). It is determinedly and definitely in your face – and there’s a brick to hand. When a mother’s instruction, fuelled by fags and booze, is to burn down a house it is no surprise that blood splatters to an acoustic treatment of The Offspring’s The Kids Aren’t Alright.

P

Daughter Jo, in a firm and touching performance by Caitlin Mitchard, does what she is told and is abandoned to a bleak, murderous, environment that offers no features, no direction, no way out (although Fraserburgh is on the map!). Her several – too many? – friends don’t make it. When, at the close, we’re in a harbour with a lighthouse the quiet relief is unlooked for and rather welcome.

There are two adult roles – principally Mum (Jenny Barron) and then the male Stranger shows up. Christie O’Carroll as director must have thought about playing the Stranger himself. Certainly Bond wanted that effect: the dreadful weight and mistaken, if not extinct, certainty of the adult up against the weaker, unscripted promise of the young – and at times it told.

All credit to LYT for holiday performances of a special kind.

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Alan Brown (Seen 17 July)

Go to LYT here.

Visit the  The Lyceum  archive.

‘The Driver’s Seat’ (Lyceum: 13 -27 June ’15)

Posted in 4*, Rated: Nae Bad, The Lyceum, Theatre by

Driver's Seat

“Prime Muriel Spark”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars Nae Bad

Never mind the 4th wall, how about knocking down the back wall? Break out upstage centre from the Lyceum and you’ll be into Saltire Court on Castle Terrace. You know you’re in one of Edinburgh’s superior premises when the tenants include global accountants Deloittes and KPMG. A neat, if accidental, location then for a play whose principal character has had enough of audit, who hammers her stapler into her desk, has hysterics and takes a holiday but with absolutely no intention of coming back to the office.

Bye-bye patronizing suits, hello lemon yellow, orange, purple and blue V stripes. It’s 1970 (kind of), when you could buy novelty knives at the airside shops before boarding at Gate 14. Stressed out Lise is all decked out for the fervid south – could be Naples, might be Palermo – and with one type of man very definitely in mind.

This is prime Muriel Spark territory. She had been living in Italy since 1967 and the shocker that is The Driver’s Seat was published three years later. Here we have it adapted – call it exposed – and directed by Laurie Sansom in a one act, ninety minute, cross-over between garish psychodrama and police procedural. It is articulated, televisual theatre; think anglepoise lamp on accountant’s desk and mess with the springs.

Gabriel Quigley (on screen) and Morven Christie. Photos: Tommy Ga-Ken Wan

Gabriel Quigley (on screen) and Morven Christie.
Photos: Tommy Ga-Ken Wan

Centre stage is the incident ‘room’. As the investigation into ‘What-Happened-to-Lise?’ is conducted, so information, photographs, etc. go up onto a transparent wipe board. You see ‘VICTIM’ in marker pen. That’s retrospective action for you, sorted, marginally distracting, smart; very unlike the downstage action, where ‘What-Is-Happening-to-Lise’ is compulsive, jumpy, and unstable.

Lise herself (in an impressively tight performance by Morven Christie) is vulnerable because she is alone and out there, fixated, conflicted. At home in her bedsit, trying to sleep, she suffers – hands over ears – the moans of her neighbours having sex. Thirty-four years old in the book, she masquerades as the lady abroad: at one point a ‘widow and an intellectual from Iowa, New Jersey’ (sic) – supposedly fluent in four languages but plainly lost when it comes to real Italian. And it is real, via potent supporting roles from Ivan Castiglione and Andrea Vopetti.

There are no hands to the big clock in the incident room, which does point to alienation theory, but up come the sound cues and they appear, chronicling Lise’s known movements from hotel lobby to department store . There’s live mapping of her taxi on the large upstage screens while handheld TV cams relay fraught close-ups. You would think that little is hidden on such a tech-savvy set but as to why Lise acts the way she does there’s not much to go on, which is probably the existential point. Are we watching an object/abject study in self-destruction or an introverted and skittering operetta, complete with CS gas? Composer and sound designer Philip Pinsky uses mild jazz in ironic counterpoint to the spiky and alarming story. Did he, I wonder, smile at the desperate lyrics of the Sniff ‘n’ The Tears’ hit single Driver’s Seat (1979), where  “She had another way of looking at life”?  Accept stunned recall of Elizabeth Taylor & Ian Bannen in film-of-the-book Identikit of 1974 and you can see that Spark’s work is heading straight for Thelma and Louise some twenty years down the road, except that Lise has no buddy to go over the edge with.

Take that original, startling writing of 1970 – you’ll want to read it – and lay bare its mucky gender issues. The result, from creatives and excellent cast, is hard sprung. You won’t enjoy its forlorn subject, unrelieved by some crazy Italian driving in outsize shades, but it is acute work.

A National Theatre of Scotland production.

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Alan Brown (Seen 18 June)

Go to The Driver’s Seat and the National Theatre of Scotland here.

Visit the The Lyceum archive.

‘Yer Granny’ (King’s: 2 – 6 June ’15)

Posted in 5*, King's Theatre, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by
Gregor Fisher as Granny. Photography: Manuel Harlan

Gregor Fisher as Granny.
Photography: Manuel Harlan

“A performance of grotesque delights”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars: Outstanding

This is a rollicking and roiling mix. The Russo family grew up with Fritto Misto and Potato Croquettes but it has all gone belly up since then. Their chip shop closed two months ago and perky Cammy is scraping a living out of his old burger van. There is no De’Longhi Deep Fryer on the worktop, just a hazardous barrel drum of cooking oil downstage right. Halfway to tragic maybe, but I took my seat to the whooping sound of Slade’s Mama Weer All Crazee Now, which (looking back) is one lurid invitation to excess. “Don’t stop now a c-‘mon” is what happens next and it’s flammable fun.

Writer Douglas Maxwell has lifted Roberto Cossa’s La Nona from Buenos Aires in 1977 and puts it down in Glasgow in the exact same year. Cue the glam soundtrack of the late 70s with Mrs Thatcher warming up and set that against the dismal fortunes of famiglia Russo; not that dizzy Marissa (20) knows any Italian beyond “Ciao” but at least she’s bringing home some cash. Best not ask what her boyfriend is selling to the kids in the high rise flats. Her uncle Charlie is definitely not making it as a composer, although his aunty Angela has high hopes for him. She hears his bedsprings squeaking rhythmically at night, you understand. Marie, Cammy’s wife and Marissa’s mother, is keeping the home together but is screaming inside, not least when the Bay City Rollers are playing Money Honey. And that leaves Nana, 100 years old, a metre wide, and yer granny at the maw of Hell. Against Nana, no jar of mayonnaise is safe, no food bank secure.

Gregor Fisher, as Nana, puts in a performance of grotesque delights. He growls Glaswegian gobbets, waddles athletically, and reaches for the digestives behind the clock with unflinching courage. The audience actually feels for the old glutton as she balances on the step stool. The family chippy was ‘The Minerva’ but that didn’t last. Nana is the awful immortal here. Invoke her, if you dare, by calling out “Anymare?” Ironic that the Romans got around to seeing Nemesis, aka Nana, as the maiden goddess of proportion.

Barbara Rafferty as Aunt Angela

Barbara Rafferty as Aunt Angela

Maureen Beattie as Marie

Maureen Beattie as Marie

Considerable credit therefore to Maxwell’s adaptation and to Graham McLaren’s direction for ensuring that Nana does not swallow the whole play. Cammy (Jonathan Watson) gives us two hilarious spiels of HM the Queen in his shop – reopened for business. He’s a proud Unionist is our Cammy but still manages to tell the sovereign to bugger off. She, for good measure, calls him a fanny. By contrast, Maureen Beattie is serene and strong as Marie and would save them all if only her good sense got the respect it deserved. Unfortunately that’s unlikely to begin with and downright impossible when sensitive brother-in-law Charlie (Paul Riley) has a mad and smutty idea. Enter very slowly rival fish bar owner Donnie Francisco (Brian Pettifer) halfway through the second act who, together with Barbara Rafferty’s amphetamine addled Angela, creates category one scatological bedlam. Suddenly poor, obliging Marissa (a great turn by Louise McCarthy) has a lot on her plate too. Never, ever, will chips and cheese pass my mouth and the wonderful Singing Kettle’s You Cannae Shove Yer Granny Aff a Bus has all gone to pot.

Brian Pettifer (l) as Donnie Francisco with Jonathan Watson (r) as Cammy.

Brian Pettifer (l) as Donnie Francisco with Jonathan Watson (r) as Cammy.

My favourite (after Susi Quatro)? Donnie’s ‘It’s no that I dinae go fur older women … Mrs Robertsons (sic)? I love a Mrs Robertson so I dae. But surely to Christ there’s an upper limit on Robertsons?’

I enjoy eating at Nonna’s Kitchen on Morningside Road but that’s nothing to what Yer Granny serves up of West Kilbride. This National Theatre of Scotland production is a feast of Scottish comedy: clever and exquisitely tasteless.

outstanding

StarStarStarStarStar

Reviewer: Alan Brown (Seen 2 June)

Go to ‘Yer Granny’ here.

Visit the King’s Theatre archive.

‘Normal / Madness’ (Assembly Roxy: 12 – 13 May ’15)

Posted in 4*, Assembly Roxy, Rated: Nae Bad, Theatre by
Photos: Kidder theatre

Photos: Kidder theatre

“A show that is performed with great sympathy that you will take heart from”

Editorial Rating:  4 Stars: Nae Bad

You say ‘Normal’, slash, ‘Madness’; I say ‘Normal’, oblique, ‘Madness’. WTF; you’re right, ‘slash’ is sharper, more definite. But it cuts both ways. Yes, there’s separation but they’re related, surely?

And that’s the point. Look at the flyer for Kidder theatre’s Normal / Madness. Mother and daughter, backs to the camera, are walking down a railway track holding hands; each balances on one rail, each supports the other. They walk beneath a star filled sky – in golden light – and it’s a lovely, endearing picture; but were it for real we’d have an irresponsible, lunatic, piece of parenting.

Here’s the crass response: “Pull yourself together woman!” Oh, is that all you have to do? What if you can’t because you’re ill? What if your whole life can become precarious in an instant? That’d be mental, then.

Kirsty McKenzie, 30, tells it how it is and how it was. Her mother, Mary, has schizoaffective disorder and has had it for a long time. She suffers psychotic symptoms, similar to schizophrenia, and the mood symptoms of the manic depressive. We see Mary overwhelmed and scared. We see Kirsty caring, trying to help and to understand.

Writer/Actor Fiona Geddes is alone on stage. She’s Kirsty with a broad smile, a ready sense of humour and a wonderful positive manner. She’s also Mary, low, terribly anxious and scrabbling in the sand for the six pounds in coppers that she buried and now cannot find. The tide is coming in along the Moray Firth and the children’s treasure hunt has had it. As a metaphor for how mental illness wipes you out, time and again, that’s hard to beat.

Fiona Geddes as Kirsty

Fiona Geddes as Kirsty

We get to learn a fair bit about schizoaffective disorder. Medical information is relayed in tones halfway patronising and/or foreign. I couldn’t help wishing for some projected slides with bullet points to do a professional job. More time with Mary, Kirsty, and bipolar boyfriend Patrick, would have been better, especially as mother and Patrick don’t get on. The familiar, homely, strains of ‘Coronation Street’ are almost therapeutic and are certainly ironic.

You’ll like Kirsty because of her honesty and because she is a loving person. Yes, the issue is her Mum’s condition but the story is Kirsty’s. Consider the choices she (& Patrick) have to make regarding children of their own. Genetic counselling gives you fair enough odds but ….

Geddes and director Jessica Beck brought Normal / Madness to the Fringe last year. Now, during Mental Health Awareness Week, it is back in Edinburgh and on tour. It’s on next at The Tron in Glasgow . The charity ‘Rethink Mental Illness’ supports this production, which – forgive me – is a no-brainer. It is a show that is performed with great sympathy that you will take heart from. ‘Help and Hope’ is the message.

nae bad_blue

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Alan Brown (Seen 12 May)

Go to ‘Normal / Madness’ at Kidder here

Visit the Assembly Roxy archive.

‘Jeeves & Wooster in Perfect Nonsense’ (King’s: 11 – 16 May ’15)

Posted in 5*, King's Theatre, Rated: Outstanding, Theatre by
Robert Webb as Bertie Wooster and Jason Thorpe as Jeeves. Photos: Hugo Glendinnig

Robert Webb as Bertie Wooster and Jason Thorpe as Jeeves.
Photos: Hugo Glendinnig

“I laughed so much I was reprimanded by the woman in the seat in front for being too loud.”

Editorial Rating: 5 Stars: Outstanding

I’ll admit, I wasn’t a massive fan of Peep Show when it was out (is it still out?), and being of a certain age (in my twenties), I can’t say I’m particularly au fait with the works of P G Wodehouse. Therefore, my expectations in going to see a period potpourri starring Robert Webb weren’t particularly high. But what a comedy it is!

As the curtain rose to a near bare set with Webb postulating alone, it could easily have turned into a rather self-indulgent affair; but the snappy delivery of some great one-liners, commanding physicality and fine character acting from the three actors were all top notch. It is anything but a one-man show.

The script (created by the Goodale Brothers from original Wodehouse works) and the concept are charmingly British and brilliantly written for the stage. The scenes move at a cracking pace and individual moments of lyrical wit are delivered with comic perfection all the way through. While the first half is more about word play and establishing a tone, the second half raises the game – and then some – by introducing elements of farce that are so well pitched as to make them outrageous but not clichéd.

The hilarity is at its peak when the numerous ‘others’, played by Jason Thorpe and Christopher Ryan, start to overlap in the same scenes. One particular highlight is when Ryan, playing two characters at the same time (one male, one female) holds a quick-fire argument with him/herself, without slipping out of either character for a second. Fabulous! I think this was when the lady in the seat in front of me turned around to reprimand me for laughing too loudly. But I was far from alone in my gutsy chortling.

Christopher Ryan as Seppings.

Christopher Ryan as Seppings.

The slickness of the costume changes and clever use of the impressive set made the piece feel very professional and daring (reminiscent of shows such as Noises Off at the Old Vic in 2013). The smashing of the ‘fourth wall’ gives the piece a contemporary blast, without losing anything of its finesse. It was particularly enjoyable being able to watch the cast do their own sound effects at times, with ne’er a thought for boring naturalism.

Any faults? If one were to be really picky, perhaps it was a little shouty at times, and the narrative got itself somewhat confused in all that dash and panache. But that is literally it. The whole show is a corking romp through the best of polite British comedy, superbly acted and with enough laughs to cheer even the grumpiest of young grumps.

outstanding

StarStarStarStarStar

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Reviewer: Steve Griffin  (Seen 11 May)

Go to Jeeves and Wooster in Perfect Nonsense.

Visit the King’s Theatre archive.

‘The Venetian Twins’ (Lyceum: 24 April – 16 May ’15)

Posted in 4*, Rated: Unrated, The Lyceum by
Angela Darcy as Columbina and Grant O'Rourke as Tonino. Photos by Alan McCredie

Angela Darcy as Columbina and Grant O’Rourke as Tonino.
Photos by Alan McCredie

“Helpless merriment awaits”

Editorial Rating: 4 Stars

The fun that there is to be had with twins, eh? And with the long-legged long lost sister who, naturally, is being wooed by one of the brothers, but which one? There’s a consultation on offer with Dr Freud but, nah, he stays in Vienna and it’s much more jolly here in a sun dappled piazza in rosy Verona.

Wednesday was a shocking day in Lothian and so all the more reason to enjoy one of Signor Goldoni’s cloudless comedies. It’s funny what a master drammaturgo can do with disinheritance, murder, suicide and a lovesick ginger loon in lime green.

That’s Carlo Goldoni of a Servant of Two Masters (1743) and many, many more of that ilk. Its near relation has to be I Due Gemelli Veneziani (1750), respectfully translated, because our Edinburgh is the city of La Favorita, ‘the authentic Italian experience’. And just like those jaunty yellow 500s that we see around and about so adaptor/director Tony Cownie delivers big time – in FIAT speak – ‘an emotional mixture of vintage flavours, where everything is colourful, joyful and [almost] authentic’, plus a high speed rally of Scots accents and banter. It’s also now around 1905, Italian railways are steaming in but a bag of gold and a box of jewels will still buy you a bride in an astonishing frock.

‘This place is mental, eh?, declares Twin 1, provincial Zanetto, who is a mild and endearing sort. He’s come to town from the sheep folds and pig pens of Bergamo to marry Rosaura, whom he’s never met, but who has been kept under house arrest for her (rich) Intended. Poor Rosaura! Home tuition didn’t help much and she suffers from acute malapropism, make-up dependency, and the lust of Pancrazio, the priest, who is a top graduate of the Tartuffe school of rank hypocrisy. Twin 2, is dauntless and debonair Tonino, whose tireless belief in the beauty that is Venice and in his no less beauteous self, probably led to his conflicted fiancée, Beatrice (PhD), running away to Verona where she meets …. Zanetto. Signore e signori, it’s the face-off show! Meanwhile, opposite Rosaura’s just has to be the inn of the Two Cocks where more helpless merriment awaits behind the bar.

Dani Heron as Rosaura and Steve McNicoll as Pancrazio

Dani Heron as Rosaura and Steve McNicoll as Pancrazio

Twins 1 and 2 are – or is – Grant O’Rourke. It is a treat of a ‘double’ performance where panache meets dead-pan humour and survives. Dani Heron serves up Rosaura as a pink sweetie and the whole piece, actually, is offered con brio: from the bright accordion music to the swashing sword play and pink cravat of posh boy Lelio (James Anthony Pearson). Kern Falconer’s turn as barmaid Mammy Flozzie is a shameless hoot whilst Steve McNicoll as the villainous Pancrazio exists seconds away from pantomime hisses.

The audience knows just about what to expect at every madcap moment because the characters delight in telling them – especially Angela Darcy’s fly Columbina; but there are a couple of slaps in the face, as a reminder that Goldoni’s laughs can and perhaps should at times own a keener edge. You won’t miss them, though, but you might feel for good ole’ Zanetto as I did.

Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)Star (blue)

Reviewer: Alan Brown (Seen 5 May)

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