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NOTE: REVIEWS (UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED) ARE "ORIGINAL CASTS"

REVIEWS: (to find a specific production use the "find/search" facility on your Internet server, and enter the title)

ZORRO - Garrick Theatre;  THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES -  Vaudeville Theatre;  THE FRONTLINE - Shakespeare's Globe;  AFTERLIFE - The Lyttelton (NT);  THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR - Shakespeare's Globe;  TWELFTH NIGHT -  Regent's Park Open Air Theatre;  THE REVENGER'S TRAGEDY - Olivier Theatre (N.T.);   ROMEO AND JULIET - Regent's Park Open Air Theatre;  A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM - Shakespeare's Globe;  MARGUERITE - Theatre Royal, Haymarket;   PYGMALION - Old Vic;  KING LEAR - Shakespeare's Globe;    HARPER REGAN - The Cottesloe (NT);  JERSEY BOYS - Prince Edward Theatre;  HAIRSPRAY - Shaftesbury Theatre;   GREASE is the word - Piccadilly Theatre;   JOSEPH AND HIS AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT - Adelphi Theatre;  THE SOUND OF MUSIC - London Palladium; DIRTY DANCING - Aldwych Theatre;   SPAMALOT - Palace Theatre;  THE 39 STEPS - Criterion Theatre;   WICKED - Apollo Victoria Theatre; AVENUE Q - Noël Coward Theatre; BILLY ELLIOT - The Musical - Victoria Palace Theatre; LES MISÉRABLES - Queen's Theatre;  STOMP - Ambassador's Theatre;  WE WILL ROCK YOU - The Dominion Theatre; Disney's THE LION KING - Lyceum Theatre;  MAMMA MIA - The Prince of Wales Theatre; CHICAGO - Cambridge Theatre


Zorro London, John Gertz and Isabel Allende present

ZORRO

Book and lyrics by Stephen Clarke.

Original story - Stephen Clarke and Helen Edmundson

Music by the Gypsy Kings

Now playing at the Garrick Theatre, and booking until January 2009

The first word which comes to mind with this show is amazzzzzzing, simply amazing! The stunts, magic, and danger involved explain why the show has had some difficulty getting itself ready for the opening - and there is more than ample use of fire, beginning with the huge 'Mark of Zorro' set dramatically alight. Don't sit too near the front if you can help it! Danger too in Tom Piper's multilevel set, a depiction of caves with dancers and singers perched on seemingly tiny ledges. Ropes swing, ladders are climbed, balconies descend, three hangings are averted by a swift sword cut - and doesn't Zorro have to judge his movements accurately and swiftly when a huge wooden cross crashes down intended to kill him……not to mention the numerous frantic sword fights which could have made Robin Hood Lincoln green with envy.

Based on an early twentieth century pulp fiction hero (and an even older legend , this story is the tale of good battling against evil - a mixture of Batman and Robin Hood=2 0- fighting injustice and, of course, winning through in the end - although not without some losses along the way.

In eighteenth century Southern California Don Alajandro (Jonathon Newth) sends his son to a Spanish military academy, his adopted daughter to a cousin to be brought up as a Spanish lady and places Ramon (Adam Levy), the boy he had treated as a son, at the head of his army. Big mistake! Ramon turns out to be the epitome of evil (characters are painted black and white), disposes of the 'father' and rules the people with intense cruelty.

Meanwhile the very charismatic Matt Rawle as son Diego has fallen in with a crowd of gypsies, but returns to take on the mask of Zorro and restore order and harmony to the people.

Well - that's the story - real Boys' Own Comic book stuff - but with whip cracking, sword fighting, gun shots, rope swinging, leaping, sliding, swinging and magically vanishing - this Zorro is certainly action-packed - and all without the benefit of cinematic illusion. The whole takes place with the intense and insistent rhythms of the flamenco dancers and singers and the music of the famous Gypsy Kings by an exceptional ten piece band. Skirts swirl and swish, feet stamp and tap in the intricate flamenco rhythms, and hands and arms weave their sinuous seductive message as the story is told.

The most impressive vocalist is Emma Williams as the sweet and pure Luisa - the love interest for both Diego and Ramon. Her voice is pure and clear, with every syllable winging its way to the very back of the stalls while losing none of the emotion.

Lesli Margherita is the fiery gypsy Inez, bringing passion, arrogance and sexy dynamic drama (as well as a sprinkling of comedy with her admirer, Nick Cavaliere's Sergeant Garcia) to a role which allows her to display her singing and dancing talents to the full. I cannot image anyone else in the role.

Rawle expertly treads a fine line between slightly camp comedy and dashing romantic lead, and his athleticism amazes, but it is the music and dance which give the show its exhilarating lift and brought the whole audience to its feet at curtain call. The show ended at around ten p.m. - the applause went on until eleven - well it would have done had the cast stayed any longer. Need I say more!

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


"The Female of the Species"

by Joanna Murray-Smith

Now playing at at the Vaudeville Theatre

Booking until 4 October

The reunion of the writer, director and two of the leading actors from the National Theatre hit Honour should have been a chance to relive old glories. In fact, rather than a sophisticated modern comedy of manners, Joanna Murray-Smith's new play turns out to be an unbelievably unsubtle attack on a feminist author who has every trait of Germaine Greer down to the alliterative name.

Goodness knows what the author of The Female Eunuch (here The Cerebral Vagina) did to her Australian compatriot but despite a fine performance from Dame Eileen Atkins as a blocked and very frustrated icon, she certainly doesn't come out of this Ben Elton-like farce with too much credit.

The 100 minutes consist of a series of outlandish intruders bursting from cow fields into Margot Mason's minimalist study and then acting as the playwright's mouthpieces by firing off tirades of self-pitying insults at the weary feminist legend.

First out of the traps is Anna Maxwell Martin playing Molly, a dull former student of Margot's who after symbolically handcuffing her heroine to a writing desk, brandishes a pistol. She then justifies this because her mother killed herself by following some Mason principles after which Molly had herself sterilised pursuing others.

Under director Roger Michell, who ensures a mood of hysteria throughout, Sophie Thompson overacts wildly as Margot's manic daughter Tess, a very ordinary, bored housewife. Her incipient madness does not seem justified by her weedy but rather charming and very rich and caring husband Bryan (Paul Chahidi).

The conveyor belt continues with Tess's taxi driver Frank, though quite why he turns up for a rant is unclear. Con O'Neill plays a sensitive cabby who eventually analyses the great writer, freeing her mind to the delight of her gay publisher, Sam Kelly playing Theo. He is a sweetie destined to be the subject of a revelation that is predictable to anybody looking at the cast list. His compensation is the chance to sign up the whole crew of nutters for his already moribund publishing house.

There are some good laughs but this play is not a patch on Honour and it is a surprise that two years after its Australian debut, it has been produced in the West End with a headlining cast.

Reviewed by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


THE FRONTLINE

A new play by Che Walker

Now playing at Shakespeare's Globe in repertory until 17th August

On a day of relentless torrential rain, Londoners turned out in force to watch Londoners on stage at the first night of Che Walker's depiction of life in the capital on a Saturday night, centred around a tube station - in this case Camden Town. The yard was packed with appreciative plastic clad spectators - despite the rain not a soul moved under cover, and their cheers at the end would have raised the roof - had there been one. We British (of whatever origin) take our pleasures seriously and stoically.

There was a certain amount of confusion (I am easily confused) not so much for the characters or their stories which were meticulously well drawn and convincing - but the programme only gave each a name and no description so it took a while to work out who was who. Some became more obvious as the play progressed, but identification was not helped by their stories being told in snippets and constantly overlapping.

The music is great - certainly to my taste - encompassing jazz, gospel, blues, and some very controversial rap numbers with the lyrics pertinently addressing the issues of contemporary life, and the sad side of contemporary life is here - junkies, evangelists, hotdog seller, prostitutes and a comical but sad man wandering around with photographs of his long lost daughter, believing every young girl he sees to be the one, and he picks on some strange matches.

With the presence of sex, drugs and prostitution violence is never very far from the surface and fights break out but "They fight just for touch, They're just lonely" says John Stahl's Erkenwald, the philosophical Scottish hotdog seller, who dispenses wisdom and some sort of narrative throughout the show.

More seriously, the murder of young, cocky drug dealer Miruts (Beru Tessema) is foretold at the beginning and his life, and blossoming relationship with tube worker Donna (Sally Breton) is cut short with a gunshot from Robert Gwilym's sinister Cockburn, leaving his bleeding body cradled in the arms of the one who could have been his salvation.

A great deal of the comedy - and surprisingly there is a lot - is supplied by pretentious Welsh actor Mordechai (Trystan Gravelle) frequently (and increasingly desperately) 'phoning Cressida trying to convince her to come and see his one man show - no surprise that she is not convinced There is also a long and very funny discourse on the virtues, or otherwise, of Marmite from kebab vendor Mahmoud (Kevork Malikyan), and some glorious gospel singing from Beth (Golda Rosheuvel) with her troupe of evangelists, but the song "We're desperate and we're invisible" is the underlying theme. However there is hope!

The main love story, and the most promising, is between Violet (Jo Martin) the foul-mouthed lap dancer from the seedy nightclub below, and Marcus (Mo Sesay), the mild mannered, book reading bouncer who is trying to improve his vocabulary to impress girls. It seems they are beginning a relationship which just might be good for them both, and the appearance of Ragdale claiming Violet to be his long lost daughter causes even more laughter when he discovers Violet's sassy teenage daughter (Naana Agyei-Ampadu as Babydoll perfectly capturing the spirit of cheeky teenage rebellion) and is delighted to think he is a grandfather.

In a sweet and caring conclusion to the show they go along with his delusions, so here at least is one happy man.

Director Matthew Dunster manages to keep tight control of a buzzing production, and if it seems totally chaotic - well that is Camden Town on a Saturday night. He has it exactly right.

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


AFTERLIFE

by Michael Frayne

now playing at the Lyttelton (NT) - booking to August 16th

I don't think Michael Frayn is capable of writing a bad play or a bad book, and I enormously enjoyed Afterlife, Frayn's new play on the life and times of Austrian theatrical impresario Max Reinhardt. However, Afterlife is a very intellectual treatment of Max Reinhardt's life. Reinhardt's extraordinary career spanned the worst recent period of European history; the last few years of the 19th century and the first half of the 20th. Reinhardt, who was Jewish, was a phenomenal personality in pre war Austrian and German cultural life. Unfortunately, I don't think Frayn really grasps in his gut what happened to him. If he did, this would be a very different play.

Max Reinhardt grew up in dire poverty in an ever growing, working class Jewish family given to midnight flits from their accommodation because they couldn't pay the rent. As a child, he escaped his surroundings by retreating into his imagination where he stayed for the rest of his life. As soon as he was old enough, he spent all his time and money on seats in the theatre, walking miles home because his few pennies went on the tickets, not the tram. By the age of 21, he was already an actor and had joined the Deutsches Theatre in Berlin. In little more than 10 years he had taken over the Deutsches Theatre, was directing the likes of Ibsen, Wedekind, and Richard Strauss' opera Rosenkavalier, and enjoying an international reputation and career.

Reinhardt invented the revolving stage. He established the Salzburg Festival with Richard Strauss and his librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal. He founded the Berlin playhouse and Vienna's most important theatres. Things were going gloriously for him. At the age of 45 in 1918, he moved to Salzburg and bought an enormous Baroque palace at a knock down price, which he lovingly restored to its former grandeur and glory.

Reinhardt was huge. He was Florenz Ziegfeld, Mike Todd and Harvey Weinstein rolled into one with a touch of Cameron McIntosh and Andrew Lloyd Weber to boot. When the Nazis came to power, he lost the lot; his home, his theatres, his career, his cultural base, his entire life.

Frayn's play tells us his story in a very cerebral way. He uses the vehicle of a morality play called Everyman, which opened the Salzburg Festival in 1920. Directed by Reinhardt, it was written by Hugo von Hofmannsthal who adapted it from a 15th century English morality play called The Summoning of Everyman. Frayn's translation of Hofmannsthal's beautiful verse is absolutely splendid and a great pleasure to listen to. But somehow, what was happening to this hugely talented individual is lost in the translation. Frayn makes the assumption that by dropping Swastikas down onto the set and having an evil, greedy Nazi stalk Reinhardt, the audience will understand the dark forces at work.

Everyone knows about the Holocaust. What happened to individuals, those that weren't murdered that is, is much more complicated.

Reinhardt lost everything that he was and everything that he had. A pathologically shy man who was only at home in the theatre, he was turfed out of the culture and the language he had been born into. His great dream was to bring culture to the people. His own work was a bit too intellectual for that but the great irony of his story is that coach loads of tourists flock to visit his home, Schloss Leopoldskron, in Salzburg every year. The heaving crowds aren't there to remember Reinhardt. Reinhardt's palace was sold by his family to an American University after the war, which restored it. The palace was used as the location for the film, Sound of Music. How ironic is that!

Vienna was the cultural capital of Europe up to 1936. Now, it is a provincial town. For those born after 1945, to think of Austria is to think of Ski boots and Arnold Schwarzenegger. I can't think of a people that deserve it more. All of this is missing from Frayn's play, which is a pity as it is the story of the world he has lived in.

That said, the play itself is not unrewarding. Roger Allam as Reinhardt is superb. Abigail Cruttenden as his mistress Helene Thimig is a bit too terribly English in the role, but plays it very well. Selina Griffiths is Reinhardt's loyal assistant Gusti Adler and creates a very attractive character. David Burke as the Prince Archbishop of Salzburg movingly conveys a beautiful soul and a loyal friendship to Reinhardt. David Schofield is the Nazi, Friedrich Müller, is suitably nasty, envious and greedy.

The lure of Hollywood in the 30's perhaps fulfilled Reinhardt's ambitions for the theatre. His overriding ambition was a desperate desire to involve the general public as his audience. In the 30's he created enormous spectacles, one called The Miracle was staged at Olympia with a cast of 2000 and an audience of 20,000. However, in 1935 he was lured to Hollywood where he directed a lasting memorial to himself. Warner Brothers hired him to direct A Midsummer Night's Dream. It starred Jimmy Cagney as Bottom, Mickey Rooney as Puck, Olivia de Havilland as Hermia, Dick Power as Lysander, Joe E. Brown as Flute. Need I go on? It is truly wonderful in a kind of mad, dated way. See it if only for Mickey Rooney. All the critics thought it was terribly pretentious of Warner Brothers, but the public flocked to it and that was Reinhardt's dream.

He died in 1943 in a New York hotel room, probably of a broken heart which took the form of a massive stroke.

I suspect most of the people who will see this play will have heard of Reinhardt in the first place. Frayn is providing an historical service by bringing his life and times back to the public's attention. But, he was a much bigger character and his tragedy was much greater than Frayn's play conveys.

Reviewed by Judith M Steiner for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


TWELFTH NIGHT

By William Shakespeare

Now playing at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, in repertory, until 30th July

"If music be the food of love" then this show is a veritable banquet. Beautifully melodious music is played throughout - composed by Dominic Muldowney, although there are also snatches of well-known tunes included here and there - and for the most part it is Harry Myers as Count Orsino's musician who sets the mood perfectly on dreamy (sometimes melancholy) saxophone.

Beginning with an almighty clap of thunder (causing a few anxious glances skywards) Viola is carried in, saved from the shipwreck where she believes her twin brother, Sebastian has been drowned. Viola is Natalie Dew, making her professional début, as is her 'twin' Neet Mohan, - both washed up on the same shore but, thanks to the meticulous timing of entrances and exits by director Edward Dick, neither catches sight of the other until the climax of this entrancing and fast-moving show.

Viola, disguised as a male Cesario, takes the position of page to Count Orsino, and suffers some good-natured but very rough handling at the hands of his other servants, being tossed in the air and thrown around.….…."So this is show-business!"

Oscar Pearce, in a more dynamic interpretation of the Duke than is usual, also throws her to the floor in an orgy of anger and grief, pinning her down beneath him until, suddenly realising his attraction to this young 'boy', seizes her in a kiss.

Twelfth Night is 'The Feast of Fools' where nothing is what it seems and cupid's arrow constantly misses its mark, so the Duke loves Olivia who falls for Cesario, who loves Orsino, while Olivia's uncle Sir Toby Belch loves wine, women and having a riotous time, and it is the riotous time which causes Olivia's steward Malvolio to come to grief..

Richard O'Callaghan has invented a voice perfectly suited to Malvolio - precise, clipped, and priggishly convinced of his superiority, his insistence on stopping the drunken, and increasingly bawdy, revellers causes the resentment which leads to disgrace and punishment. I have often felt his punishment has been too harsh for the crime, and it puts a sad note into the proceedings, but in this agreeably happy production the feeling is that the perpetrators regret their vengeance and will make amends.

"What inspired casting" said my daughter, "to cast Boris Johnson as Andrew Aguecheek!" Well of course it is Clive Hayward, but there is a strong resemblance, including hair "like flax on a distaff", made even more pertinent with the dim-witted knight's pensive remark "many do call me fool".

Feste, in the rotund shape of Clive Rowe, travels with a large trunk containing props - and other essentials. His comedy is in the 'cheeky chappie' style of the period (around the twenties) and Dick has made full use of Rowe's sublime singing voice.

Janie Dee is a composed and self-controlled Olivia, mourning her dead brother - until she meets Cesario, and Tim Woodward is outstanding as the champagne swigging, fun-loving Sir Toby, aided in his revenge on Malvolio by Claire Benedict's chirpy Maria.

Excellent performances all round, in a show which combines clarity and credibility within the framework of music and song, the final song belonging to Feste where Rowe's glorious voice soars to the stars and above in the most melodious rendition of 'the rain it raineth' --- and it didn't!

'The Feast of Fools' - but you would be foolish to miss this most entertaining and most musical production. The best ever!

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.

By William Shakespeare.

Now playing at Shakespeare's Globe, in repertory, until October 5th.

Shakespeare is reputed to have written this play at the request of the Queen who had previously enjoyed the antics of Falstaff and Mistress Quickly so much that she desired to see them again. What better play could it have been to give a queen, who had been getting the better of men all her life, than one which presented two clever women doing the same thing!

This is the only play Shakespeare set 'within his own class and in his native land' and it concerns two families, the Fords and the Pages, daughter Anne Page and her three suitors, and one conniving knight, Sir John Falstaff.

The dialogue is scattered with constant play on words - same sound, but totally reversing the meaning of the sentence - and as the characters include a French doctor (Philip Bird, with Inspector Clouseau-like pronunciation) a Welsh parson (Gareth Armstrong) with a distinctly odd accent, and numerous individuals who constantly use the wrong words, the scene is set for a riotous evening of fun - and so it is!

Falstaff, while dining at the inn, says "I am in the waist two yards about" (as indeed he is) "but I am now about no waste, I am about thrift". Unfortunately his idea of thrift is to make love to the wife of the insanely jealous Frank Ford as "She has all the rule of her husband's purse", and he thinks she has been bestowing flirtatious glances upon his corpulent body. Just for good measure he decides to grant his favours to the wife of George Page (Michael Garner) and writes them identical letters. Big mistake!

Director Christopher Luscombe has taken this superbly written comedy and enhanced, expanded and emphasised it with just the right lightness of touch, so that it becomes hilariously funny but not ridiculously so, surprisingly even believable.

Costumes are of the period, and Janet Bird's set includes a walkway extending right into the yard, encircling a good proportion of the groudlings between it and the stage so the action takes place around them. In the centre a platform reverses, to the delighted surprise of the audience as is brings to light a flower garden and love-seat. It is here that the two wives discover their identical letters and, with much laughter, plan to discredit and humiliate the sender.

The cast appear to be thoroughly enjoying themselves - most particularly Serena Evans as wife Meg Page, doubled up with laughter as she contemplates the discomfiture of the knight and, aided and abetted by Sarah Woodward as Alice Ford, the plan proceeds.

Christopher Benjamin's Falstaff suffers being stuffed into a laundry basket, dumped into the river, and disguised as a witch, before his final humiliation, but manages to elicit sympathy as a lovable old rogue - and he almost has the last laugh when the parents' plans are thwarted and Anne (Ellie Piercy) marries her true love.

The pillars on the Globe stage come in very useful for characters to hide behind when they want to conceal their mirth (or anger) from the others. Andrew Havill, as the jealous Frank Ford, has a wonderful time here, dancing with glee, or wildly waving his arms in fury, and his unbelieving anger and frustration when he doesn't find Falstaff hidden in the clothes basket is a comedic joy.

This is a blissfully joyous romp, with no fatalities, no malice, and guaranteed to lift the spirits and send everyone out with a smile on their face and a song in their hearts - or at the very least composer Nigel Hess' final jolly tune.

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


"The Revenger's Tragedy"

by Thomas Middleton

Now playing in repertory at The Olivier Theatreworld Internet Magazine (N.T.).

Booking to August 7th

The Revenger's Tragedy is a timely piece of theatre to revive at the National Theatre, a pot pourri of sex, violence and degradation to rival the likes of Sam Peckinpah and Quentin Tarantino any day. It is an excellent modern dress production of a 400 year old gruesome tale of murder, rape, incest, betrayal, revenge, intrigues, jealousy and everything the ENO puts in its advertising to try to entice you to the opera. At the opera you get good songs. In the Revenger's Tragedy, you get beautiful language of the period. This kind of drama was extremely popular in Elizabethan and early Jacobean England.

Attributed here to Thomas Middleton1570-1627, the same drama is attributed to Cyril Tourneur, (1575-1626). Both were British dramatists who lived through the same period. When the RSC performed a production in the 60's, they attributed it to Tourneur. In the meantime, the Middleton attribution seems to have won the argument.

The opening scene sets the tone. Set in Italy, a very satisfying conceit of the day as a good place for a conniving, bloodthirsty and revengeful court, the Olivier's revolving stage comes into its own. Around and around goes a carousel of the antics of an aristocratic society riddled with moral and physical decay. What with rape on stage, fellatio, debauchery and the whole 9 yards, I would suggest not taking the children.

The central character is Vindice, the excellent Rory Kinnear, whose mistress Gloriana was poisoned by the Duke, Ken Bones, because she refused to succumb to his advances. Vindice, intent on revenge, conceives a cunning plan. Disguising himself, he becomes a fixer for the Duke's son by a previous marriage, Lurrusioso, Elliot Cowan. He not only would rather like to succeed his father, but also would rather like to seduce Vindice's virginal sister. The Duke's legitimate son is a rapist. Another bastard son is having an affair with his current Duchess. Lurrusioso elicits Vindice (disguised) to either entrap his sister or convince his mother to entrap the poor, pure girl. The latter succumbs. No one possesses any kind of moral compass at all.

Vindice warms to all the deceit and vengeance. Murders abound. The only good person is Castiza, Katherine Manners, the innocent sister, who manages to keep her maidenhead to the end.

The programme quotes Confucius who suggested that "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." So it proves for Vindice. In the end, the stage is littered with bodies, including his. And so it goes. I think it could be done as a comedy.

For people interested in the history of theatre, The Revenger's Tragedy is an important work. Cleverly mounted and directed by Melly Still who collaborated on the superb design with Ti Green, it is visually fascinating. The Sound Designer is the reliable Paul Arditti. The music itself is a melange of very interesting and challenging sounds, modern and not, by Adrian Sutton and Differentgear. I wasn't entirely convinced by the Movement Director, Rick Nodine. Where sinuous and sensuous was called for, he often produced jerky and anti-sexual movement.

The Revenger's Tragedy is almost 3 hours long. It is not for the faint hearted, but, if you like this sort of thing, fascinating.

Reviewed by Judith M. Steiner for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


Williams Shakespeare's

ROMEO AND JULIET

Now playing at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre, in repertory until 2nd August.

I have been present for productions at Regent's Park Open Air Theatre on occasions too numerous to mention, and experienced every sort of weather imaginable, from blazing sun to freezing cold, torrential rain and gale force winds. Never yet snow, but I'm sure that's only a question of time! Whatever the weather, every time has been thoroughly enjoyable - even a total rain-off leads to camaraderie in the bar, and you can use the tickets at a later date.

Last night's first night, and the very first production directed by Timothy Sheader in his inaugural season as Artistic Director, the weather was perfect - a scorching day leading to a warm evening, and even the moon was on the side of the star-crossed lovers as it obligingly rose above the trees for Romeo (Nicholas Shaw) and Juliet's night of conjugal bliss as Juliet emerges from childhood to become a fully fledged woman, while her father is below plighting her troth to Paris - the bridegroom of his choice. Newcomer Laura Donnelly is the perfect choice for Juliet - innocent and child-like, she runs to greet her father, leaping into his arms, to be sat on his lap and caressed. Autocratic Capulet (Tim Woodward)'s attitude soon changes when he discovers she rejects his choice of husband and he flings her to the floor in an orgy of violent attacks on his wife and maid as well as his daughter.

Talking of orgies - those Capulets certainly know how to throw a party. Their masquerade ball with guests and hosts attired in exotically colourful costumes, displays some wild erotic dancing to hot Latin rhythms, and plenty of booze on offer. Romeo and Juliet step over, under and through the gyrating sinuous bodies to meet - their innocence emphasised by the contrast between their simple light clothes (Juliet in virginal white) and the rather garish costumes of the partygoers.

The set, which will be used for all three Shakespearean productions, is indeterminate - make of it what your will. It resembles a magnificent palatial building fallen into disrepair, with a split wall which could symbolise the feud between the two warring families, and rough wooden scaffolding which does duty as a two level staging and gives opportunities for a very athletic and cheeky Mercutio (Oscar Pearce) to climb, jump and swing. He also exhibits a very realistic convincing gory death, with his breath coming in painful gasps.

Although hints of the feud between the families are present at the ball, the first sign of real menace comes with the swaggering bravado of Ben Joiner's Mafia-style Tybalt challenging Romeo to a fight, where Liam Steel's balletic choreography and Terry King's fight direction combine to produce a frantic knife battle - sadly a reminder of today's problems.

Claire Benedict excels in a brilliantly comical performance as the Nurse who is in such raptures remembering Juliet as a baby that you can't shut her up. She also has no trouble chasing off the cheeky youths who are taunting her.

David Shrubsole's music is as varied as the many costumes, from hot Latin to Italian aria, and sung exquisitely by Annette McLaughlin's leggy Lady Capulet as well as Annalisa Rossi's Bianca and the company in general.

Despite some superb performances, and a wonderful interpretation of the famous farewell on the balcony, somehow the play didn't move me - no tears fell even at the death scene, although they were almost there for the moment when Juliet began to stir from her feigned death unnoticed by Romeo as he took his fatal dose of poison, and finally the two warring families shook hands over the bodies of their children. Peace between them at last - but at what cost!

Although not moved to tears - I found this production gripping, intriguing, fascinating and inventive - well worth joining the queue at the box office

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


"A Midsummer Night's Dream"

by William Shakespeare

playing in repertory at Shakespeare's Globe until 4 October

This must be the best Midsummer Night's Dream for many years and will undoubtedly be one of 2008's theatrical highlights. Following Dominic Dromgoole's thoughtful, funny King Lear, it bodes well for a Globe renaissance and will be one of the hottest tickets of the year.

Almost everything that Jonathan Munby, his designer Mike Britton and the acting ensemble attempt comes off. On a soaking evening, a measure of their hold over the audience was a packed pit filled with sodden groundlings, even after the interval when callow visitors usually reckon that they have had their fiver's worth and retire to the pub.

From black opening to white finale, Britton has gone for a colourful, Pre-Raphaelite design ethic with the stage swathed in blue cloth. The actors represent a complete rainbow from the toffs personified by Hippolyta, looking uncannily like Ellen Terry's Lady Macbeth to pink and purple spirits led by Puck in an amazing, turquoise Technicolor Dreamcoat and the pastel-shaded rude mechanicals.

To this is added Olly Fox's jazzy Celtic-influenced score with a number of tuneful songs and some well-choreographed dance courtesy of Siân Williams and her fairies.

The Athenians led by the ladies, Pippa Nixon as frustrated Hermia and Laura Rogers particularly good as the constantly wounded Helena, are quite seemly at home.

Once they enter a flower-strewn wood though, inhibitions disappear and the colour co-ordinated pairings go into splendid slapstick battle with Miss Rogers almost torn in two after becoming the human rope in a tug of war between competing wooers, Lysander and Demetrius (Christopher Brandon and Oliver Boot).

The would-be lovers are aided in this by a capriciously Puckish, Lancastrian Puck, Michael Jibson. He causes comical mayhem egged on by Tom Mannion's Scottish Oberon, seeking retribution for the behaviour of his foul-tempered Queen Titania, Siobhan Redmond also using a lilting accent from far north of Hadrian's Border.

At the same time, honest Nick Bottom the weaver turns into a loveable ass thanks to the fine efforts of Told By An Idiot's Paul Hunter on top form. He strikes it lucky as the paramour of the beautiful, fairy Queen tipsy on love potion but at the expense of scaring off his prosaic acting confreres.

Following the kind of disastrous prologue from Michael Matus as Peter Quince that must terrify any prospective director; the amateurs take a fine evening into the stratosphere with their portrayal of tragical Pyramus and Thisbe.

One might expect Hunter to excel and get applause for his character's extended death throes in the leading role in this hilarious, bawdy attack on poorly-cast thespians. He is not alone, as Jonathan Bond playing the wall in character and especially Sam Parks as a moon waning out of sight with stage fright delighted the audience, the latter getting a loud spontaneous ovation.

Do not miss out. You might never again see as good a version of A Midsummer Night's Dream and innumerable laughs are guaranteed from this fine cast, given perfect direction by Jonathan Munby, who shows the lightest of touches throughout and a great feel for the play's comic possibilities.

Reviewed by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


Boublil/Schonberg/Kretzmer's

MARGUERITE

Now playing at Theatre Royal, Haymarket

Expansive story-telling coupled with memorable tunes and incisive lyrics are the hallmarks of a Boublil/Schonberg/Kretzmer musical. And their new piece, Marguerite, initially looks set to continue in the same successful vein.

With a sweeping narrative that follows Marguerite's life as the cosseted mistress of a high-ranking German Officer in occupied World War II France, strong sub-plots of thwarted Resistance fighters, growing Nazi-incited anti-Semitism and redemption through true love, Marguerite is an intriguing variation on the familiar Dumas' story that has since inspired so many re-imaginings.

And this world-premiere production certainly also ticks all the right boxes when it comes to design, with ever-changing stage pictures that are often ravishing on the eye: Paul Brown and video/projection designer Sven Ortel have created complex, stylised sets that range from Marguerite's sumptuous mirrored salon, hinting at the fragility of her self-regarding life surrounded by a coterie of fair-weather friends, to distant panoramas of the familiar Paris skyline and the intimacy of the sparse attic room where Marguerite and her young lover meet for ill-fated afternoon trysts.

As Marguerite, Ruthie Henshall possesses one of the most evocatively sumptuous voices to be heard on any West End stage and it perfectly serves the role of a woman approaching forty who knows that time is running out: a woman who has everything except the true love she craves - until, handsome young jazz pianist (Julian Ovenden's ardent Armand) arrives to play at her party.

Left alone together as the other guests flee during an English air-raid, Armand confesses to a long-held infatuation since seeing Marguerite at a society concert almost ten years earlier. As Allied bombs explode all around them, they fall passionately into each other's arms while Michel Le Grand's score valiantly seeks an incendiary melody to fire up their first romantic encounter.

Occasionally, though, the music lacks a sufficiently-sustained dramatic edge to propel the story into the compelling reality it demands, although with Le Grand's Oscar-winning credentials, there are, of course, many affecting moments.

In 'The face I see' (a 'mirror' song) Marguerite poignantly reflects upon the passage of time, her discarded red dress providing a vivid reminder of her desire to abandon the life of a kept woman for Armand's youthful charms, while 'China Doll' provides a leitmotif that insinuates its way into various stages of Marguerite's life. In perhaps the show's most telling number ('How did I get to where I am?') Marguerite ponders where her life went so wrong: her affair has by then been uncovered by her disillusioned Nazi protector, Otto (Alexander Hanson) Armand's sister Annette (Annalene Beechey) is tortured as a Collaborator and her Jewish lover Lucien (Simon Thomas) flees Paris to escape persecution from the Authorities.

But, at other pivotal moments, the plot demands stronger melodic material to ignite the spark between Marguerite and Armand into believable passion and a tighter, less clichéd, steer from the book writers.

The robust company is marshalled into movement by Portuguese choreographer Arthur Pita and the compelling stage pictures are fluently created by director Jonathan Kent (co-author) who excels himself in an unexpectedly brutal final twist.

Oh, and keep an eye on the front cloth: like the show itself, it is both beautiful and intriguing - if, at the same time, somewhat monochrome and two dimensional.

Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine

Box Office: 0870 4000 626

Websites: www.marguerite-themusical.com

www.trh.co.uk

Performances: Monday - Saturday at 7.30pm

Wednesday and Saturday matinees at 2.30pm

Ticket prices: £25.00 - £60.00 plus concessions


"Pygmalion"

by George Bernard Shaw

Now playing at the Old Vic Theatre to August 2nd

The Old Vic Theatre has got a towering hit on its hands with Peter Hall's production of Pygmalion. I have rarely been so astounded by the freshness of a production of a play I thought I knew well.

Lerner and Lowe's musical version of Shaw's play, My Fair Lady, has cast a very long shadow over the original and, it is clear from this production, Shaw would not have liked what was done to his plot. Shaw's Pygmalion is not the story of an ugly duckling turned into a beautiful princess by a curmudgeonly but loveable professor of phonetics.

Despite some grating and anachronistic body language more suited to Minder than an Edwardian drawing room from Tim Piggott-Smith, the production is absolutely true to Shaw's original purpose. It is obvious from this production that Shaw was every bit the feminist that Ibsen was.

Eliza, Michelle Dochery, is as free as a bird when we first meet her selling flowers at St. Paul's Church, Covent Garden. She's desperately poor and dirty and frightened but never cowed. Her complete confidence in confronting Higgins on every level is what Shaw intended. This is a sharp contrast to Audrey Hepburn's Eliza in the film of My Fair Lady with which we are all so familiar. Who knows what Julie Andrews would have brought to the screen role? She created the role for the stage but, sadly, I didn't see it.

Pygmalion has always been understood to be a play about class. There is a great deal more to it than just that. Director, Peter Hall, has clarified here Shaw's character study of Higgins, a man with what we now see clearly as a personality disorder. Piggott-Smith's Higgins is not merely callous. He is close to autistic in his complete lack of emotional intelligence. Mrs.Pearce, the excellent Una Stubbs, is his despairing but protective house-keeper. His mother, the magnificent Barbara Jefford, is at her wit's end trying to understand and control her son's complete lack of social and emotional sensitivity. She has barred him from her "at homes" and despaired at his antics and lack of restraint, which extends even to misbehaving in church. People with serious Asperger's Syndrome don't suddenly see the error of their ways and change. They can't. Higgins isn't Rex Harrison. He is heartless and Eliza's departure at the end signifies that she knows that.

Shaw not only comments on but attacks the limitations of class. Higgins and Colonel Pickering, a sensitive and deeply appealing James Laurenson, talk about what a quick study Eliza is; how she picks up everything they expose her to like a sponge. They are amazed and delighted. It is ironic that Pygmalion was first performed in the first year of WWI when all those young men who might also have soaked opportunity up like a sponge were mown down as cannon fodder. Things had to change.

Pygmalion is a superb play, perfectly crafted, didactic in Shaw's inimitable fashion, and hugely enjoyable. The first night audience was in seventh heaven, applauding actors off the stage and even bits of business in between, particularly the delightful Michelle Dockery and Tony Haygarth as her father, Alfred Doolittle. They are both wonderful parts and neither actor misses a line or a turn.

Costume Designer Christopher Woods has put Eliza in some beautiful frocks. Dustman Alfred Doolittle is particularly wonderfully clad and the genteel poor Mrs. and Miss Aynsford Hill, Pamela Miles and Emma Noakes respectively, are perfectly suitably attired. Simon Higlett is the Set Designer and Peter Mumford did the Lighting.

It is such a deeply satisfying pleasure to sit through a superb production of a superb play. And one you think you know well, but perhaps not as well as you thought you did. Rush to get tickets.

Reviewed by Judith M. Steiner for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


KING LEAR

By William Shakespeare.

Now playing at Shakespeare's Globe, in repertory, until 17th August

Dominic Dromgoole, beginning his third year as Artistic Director of the Globe Theatre, has commenced the season a little earlier than usual - very appropriately on Shakespeare's birthday - and, in stark contrast to his last year's production of the flighty, frivolous and farcical "Love's Labour's Lost", has taken on the most profound and complex tragedy with two aging fathers who are betrayed by their offspring. On an evening with promises of summer to come the theatre was packed, so he must be doing something right.

In two parallel and intertwined tales, Lear divides his kingdom between the two daughters who falsely profess undying love, at the same time disinheriting and banishing the one who truly loves him, while the Earl of Gloucester (Joseph Mydell) believes his bastard son's false accusations that the other son is plotting to murder his father and inherit his lands.

In the midst of tragedy there is always some comedy, but there is very little to laugh at as the poor king finds himself unwanted and dispossessed of his retinue of knights. "You unnatural hags" he accuses his daughters, at the same time beginning to wonder if there is something of himself in them. There are echoes of the present day in the story, with siblings finding an old parent a burden, although hopefully not with the same cruelty and selfishness shown by these two.

David Calder is a Lear who takes us movingly on his emotional journey from megalomaniacal king to bewildered degradation, having lost his authority along with his opulent regal robes, and finding himself homeless and wandering mindlessly through a torrential storm. "I suppose I have to feel what wretches feel. Is man no more that this?" he appeals to the audience, realising for the first time that many of his subjects must suffer this way. "Let me not be mad" he implores the heavens, feeling his reason slipping.

The storm, incidentally, is superbly and realistically portrayed simply by sound. Shakespeare had no need of expensive special effects and neither have we.

Lear is accompanied on his journey by his fool - a solicitous and wise fool who dispenses words of wisdom and advice carefully mixed with some implied criticisms and delivered in a comic manner. This is Danny Lee Wynter - a young man hardly out of drama school who was chosen by Stephen Poliakoff to play the lead in two of his television plays last autumn - playing opposite Michael Gambon and Maggie Smith. The memory of his superb performance in both these plays will stay with me forever as will this, his theatre debut, where his energy and stage presence prove him to be one to watch, on stage or screen.

Sally Bretton has appeared at the Globe twice previously, each time in the role of the intellectual and passionate Heloise. She is equally impressive as Lear's daughter Goneril - cold, hard-hearted and grasping - well matched by Kelly Bright as sister Regan (Kellie Bright).

Musical score is provided, as usual, by Claire Van Kampen, beautifully presented and sung, and taking its inspiration from the Anglo Saxon period - the themes of the play are timeless.

The story follows its course with characters dying one after another, through stabbing, poisoning, hanging, broken heart, suicide etc, until at the end hardly a soul is left standing but, this being the Globe, a little magic takes place and they all recover enough to indulge in the traditional final dance - a little incongruous perhaps following the tragedy, but enjoyed as always by a very enthusiastic and appreciative audience.

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


HARPER REGAN

by SIMON STEPHENS

now playing at The Cottesloe (NT) in repertory

It's the things that aren't articulated that are the most potent in Simon Stephens' latest play about a family papering over the cracks of a secret that can't be told. Unfortunately, the reverse is also true: it's the things that are said that are the most crass and cliched.

HARPER REGAN begins, and develops, improbably: in a red herring of a first scene, Lesley Sharp's tousled Harper Regan asks her employer for a couple of days off to visit her potentially fatally sick father. The boss, played by Michael Mears, (too idiotic and perverse a character to credibly be in a position of authority), refuses to let her go.

So what? Not incredibly, Harper goes anyway. She doesn't tell either her teenage daughter or her husband where she is going. We have to wait far too long and until the second act to learn why: she is struggling to forgive her husband for an event which has recently forced them to relocate. The dark secret of her husband's betrayal has poisoned her trust. The father's illness is the trigger for the family's unravelling.

Many events in Harper's journey to the Stockport parental home also lack credibility. First she hangs around a London canal in the dark and chats up a black teenager; then, once up North, after learning at the hospital that her father has died, she plunges broken glass into the neck of a vile, mysognist journalist befriended in a pub; finally, rather than going to see her estranged mother, she has sex in a hotel room with a man she has only just met on the internet - not in itself so weird but, given the preceding chain of events, it has an unlikely aura.

The better things in Simon Stephens' play are also the least improbable, - the deft portrayal of two generations of mothers struggling to connect with daughters who find it hard to forgive them, is nicely evoked. Stressed characters paper over volcanic emotions with banal observations about the weather. Harper asks her internet date to sing to her - two strangers make a meaningul connection in a touching and unexpected way. The mute embarrassment that hovers between Harper and her elusive husband (Nick Sidi) Seth is sad and real.

The female parts are the most convincing in a play produced by Marianne Elliott and designed by Hildegard Bechtler. It's a shame that so much of the writing is fabricated to spin a yarn, rather than focus on the writer's strengths - the ellisions and evasions which tell a richer story.

Review by Charlotte Birkett for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


JERSEY BOYS

Book by Marshall Brickman and Rick Elise

Music by Bob Gaudio and lyrics by Bob Crewe

Now playing at the Prince Edward Theatre and booking until March 2009

I approached Jersey Boys with some misgivings - yet another musical tribute and a nostalgia trip for the fans - but the writers are adamant that they have not written a musical, they have written a play about four guys who wrote music. The result is a fascinating tale of "revenge and betrayal and crime and punishment and family and women" and tells the truth about what went on behind the squeaky clean image that Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons presented to the public.

Truth is hard to define, with every character giving their version of how they remembered it, and the writers had the resourceful idea of giving the narration to each one in turn throughout the show, but aside from that they also had the difficult (and dangerous) problem of presenting the whole truth while being careful to avoid upsetting any of the Mafia who were keeping a watchful eye on proceedings. They must not be 'disrespectful' to any of the bosses - warnings were issued - and here Gyp DeCarlo (Stuart Milligan) appears as an emotional avuncular figure sentimental about his mother (probably true) and with the boys' welfare at heart (possibly not!)

The curtain rises and we are blasted with sound, light and colour "Oh, What a Night" (a bit heavy on the base boys), and constant frenetic movement which continues almost throughout the show, with the more or less obligatory set of steel scaffolding, spiral staircase and raised walkway, giving the performers an extra challenge as they are frequently up, down and along while singing and playing. The breath control and energy necessary is awe-inspiring, not to mention the exceptional quality of the acting and singing!

The story begins with the swaggering bravado of Glenn Carter as guitarist Tommy DeVito, a man who had been imprisoned for criminal offences, but sees himself as one who "takes raw clay and makes like Michael Angelo" - the raw clay in this case being a scrawny kid called Frankie Castelluccio. Not a name which trips easily off the tongue, so he becomes Frankie Valli. "With friends like yours" he is told, "maybe you should change your name to Sinatra", and Ryan Molloy does have a slight resemblance to another Jersey Boy who made the big time.

With bassist Nick Massi (Philip Bulcock) they began their musical journey in the fifties, were later joined by young musical genius Bob Gaudio (Stephen Ashfield), and in 1962 had their first big hit "Sherry", closely followed by "Big Girls Don't Cry" and "Walk Like a Man". Their music was for the people - ordinary people with ordinary lives - and Crewe's lyrics appealed to them. "My Eyes Adored You" was sung with deep feeling after Valli's marriage fell apart, and "Can't take my Eyes off You" brought spontaneous applause and cheering. I was surprised to discover how very many songs were so familiar.

After many trial names for their group they finally settle on The Four Seasons - a name not inspired by Vivaldi (Who?) but by the bowling alley where they were playing at the time, and it is here that a legend is born.

In New Jersey nobody locks their doors - there is honour among thieves - and the honour extends to Valli loyally insisting the group must pay Devito's astronomical gambling debts, and to a contract sealed with a handshake lasting over forty years.

The show concludes with a "Where are they now?" scenario. Valli, in his seventies, is still performing, Crewe (here played by an effete Simon Adkins), still writing the lyrics, and Gaudio still writing the music. DeVito, by an ironic twist of fate, is in Las Vegas working for Joe Pesci, the kid he used to knock around back in New Jersey and expertly portrayed with a cheeky charm by Jye Frasca. Massi, however, died in 2000 on Christmas Eve….. "For a Catholic, is that style or what!"

With the original creative team from the hit show in New York, and an extremely talented British cast (Molloy re-creates Valli's soaring falsetto perfectly), this is a show that should go on and on - like the originals. Judging from the enthusiastic reception - standing ovation and an audience who didn't want to leave - it probably will. "Oh What a Night!" says it all.

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


"Hairspray - the Musical"

Now playing at the Shaftesbury Theatre

'Show of the year'

In '60s Baltimore, all a girl needed to keep her company was a can of hairspray and her 'trannie' radio. And teenaged Tracy Turnblad was no exception - except that in Hairspray, her 'trannie' is her mother.

As played by Michael Ball, his drone-into-diva Edna shows a side of this musical theatre genius we have never seen before: he has not only created a believable trailer-trash persona, he has found a whole new voice - spoken and sung - to animate his gloriously kitsch creation. (So convincing is he, that apocryphal stories about fans demanding their money back because their idol 'wasn't in the show' hold more than a shred of credibility.)

Ball brings Edna to full-figured (larger than) life before our eyes. Never once tipping over into parody - despite the fabulous wigs (Paul Huntley), dresses and makeup - his star performance remains seamlessly integrated within the large ensemble.

Holding her own as daughter Tracy, fleet-footed newcomer Leanne Jones engages attention from the start, while as Link - one of several love interests -'Joseph' TV dropout and fellow West End debutant Ben James-Ellis, makes an increasingly-strong impression as the evening zips by.

As Edna's raunchily adoring spouse Wilbur, Mel Smith is an engaging physical cross between W C Fields and Sid James and their smoochy vaudeville-style duet 'Timeless to Me' stops the show (as does the gospel number sung by a blonde and bewigged Johnnie Fiori as Motormouth Mabel).

The Technicolor 60s settings provide an excuse to showcase a gorgeous array of over-the-top costumes (William Ivey Long), set against David Rockwell's wittily eye-popping cartoonish flats, with moves authentically choreographed by Jerry Mitchell.

Marc Shaiman's award-winning score pastiches the songs of the era so successfully that you believe they really could be genuine 60s classics: by staying true to the conventions of the time, the music and lyrics (by Shaiman and Scott Wittman) mirror some of pop's greatest hits but mint the genre afresh for a new generation.

The glorious book (Mark O'Donnell and Thomas Meehan) contains a liberating quota of non-PC jokes that heighten our understanding of the deeper issues touched on by the show. Such fulsome doesn't leave any space to acknowledge the rest of the amazing cast or precis the storyline of 'larger girls' overcoming adversity to win the love of their unlikely beaux in a newly-integrated US of A.

And how great it is to hear a 'live' pit band playing real instruments with such style. Show of the year? You bet!

Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


Paul Nicholas and David Ian

by arrangement with Robert Stigwood present

"GREASE" is the word

Now playing at the Piccadilly Theatre

Over acted, over amplified and over here

If 'Grease' is to satisfy, it needs a 'perfect couple' at its heart. And, in the words of David Ian the show's producer, Danny and Sandy are that perfect couple.

But, on stage, this TV-cast revival not only lacks a heart, the dream couple trying to fill the vacuum are signally mis-matched (despite being voted into their roles by a panel of 'celebrity' judges including David Gest - with his own recent track record, surely the least-qualified man on the planet to choose the 'perfect couple'? - Sinitta, Brian Friedman and David Ian himself.

The recent searches for 'Joseph' and 'Maria' showed how a TV format can come good with West End casting, so who knows what happened on this occasion?

With so many of the viewers who voted now claiming 'ownership' of the project (as Mr Ian's marketing-speak puts it in a self-congratulatory programme note) Grease should guarantee bums on seats at The Piccadilly for months to come: what a shame that so many will belong to first-time theatregoers who will leave the show under the impression that 'live' musical theatre is all about over-acting, under-casting, cheap sets and a ferociously over-amplified on-stage band.

The couple that most of the audience are 'Hopelessly Devoted' to are Danny Bayne (as Danny Zuko) and Susan McFadden (as Sandy Dumbrowski) - despite there not being any discernable spark between them during the whole evening, let alone in the uncomfortably 'stagey' final number where they never manage to convince us that they were right for each other all along.

They both sing and dance as if their lives depend on it, while surrounded by other energetic, noisy, hyper-active kids whose annoying over-use of the rebellious 'finger' gesture and interminable pelvis-grinding quickly grate and, while it would be invidious to single out any particular cast member as an example of the show's universally-broad playing style (direction is by David Gilmore) a strong contender must be Tim Newman's nerdy Eugene. His relentless mugging would have earned him an ASBO anywhere other than in a theatre and he even managed to pip at the post three (very) camp followers doing a tacky turn as backing singers in a shower scene that had me longing for a Psycho moment.

The dynamic musical staging and choreography is by West End veteran Arlene Phillips, who has galvanised her manic dancers into action with an eclectic variety of styles ranging from West Side story 'dance in the gym' to a retro, sub-Busby Berkeley routine for 'Beauty School Dropout.'

Grease may be the word, but it's not the word that comes most readily to mind to describe this tawdry production whose success is assured thanks to healthy advance box office sales by the TV viewers who voted for the 'stars' they helped to create: they loved every ear-splitting minute.

www.greasethemusical.co.uk

Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


The Tim Rice and Andrew Lloyd-Webber Musical

"JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT"

Now playing at the Adelphi Theatre

A dream of a show: Go, go, go!

Yes, I admit it. I enjoyed watching the TV show and followed Lee's progress every step of the way, adding my vote to the millions who helped get him the part in this latest spectacular West End revival.

Yes, I did have reservations about such a public auditioning process and no, I don't feel that it is the best way of casting for a major London musical. (I would also question the millions of pounds-worth of free publicity garnered at licence payers' expense.)

But, on the night, there was no hesitation in admitting that, in this case, the end fully justified the slick, if unorthodox, means.

To quote from one of "Joseph's" many apposite lyrics: "Anyone from anywhere can make it, if they get a lucky break." Well, perhaps not quite anyone - think of the thousands of hopefuls who were eliminated during the fascinating earlier rounds - but it certainly applies to Lee Mead, who has assumed the illustrious mantle of Joseph with the greatest aplomb.

We knew he could do it piecemeal: we'd seen him dance, we'd heard him sing, he had an engaging personality and could hold an audience. (He was, after all, a professional performer with some major theatrical experience already under his belt.)

But the evening itself proved a glorious revelation. From the moment he appeared out of the heavens, floating down on a cloud to one of the most ecstatic receptions I can ever recall, he looked completely at home and his gently mellifluous voice proved a pleasant antidote to the aggressive "shouty" style all-too-prevalent these days.

As the Narrator (in charge of the well-disciplined mixed choir of youngsters who make such a contribution to this scintillating show) Preeya Kalidas looks, moves and sings with absolute assurance: as does Dean Collinson, the high-voltage Pharaoh giving his all in this homage-to-Elvis role.

The score and lyrics (by the fledgling Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice team and written some 40 years ago) are a youthful take on every aspect of pop music at the time, from nods in the direction of the contemporary American hit parade to an hilarious sub-French chanson and accompanying Apache dance, "Those Canaan days."

This energetic number (reeking with cod Gallic charm) provides the opportunity for yet another ensemble dance sequence: like the imaginative tutu "dream" sequence, or "One more Angel" knees-up, choreographer Anthony van Laast has pulled out all the stops to give his superb company its collective head (and feet) in some of the best stage dancing in London.

Although this is undoubtedly Lee's show (which he carries with charm, ease and a strong individual style) the ensemble is phenomenal - even by current stellar West End standards - and the energy levels sizzle ceaselessly throughout this high-voltage evening.

The eye-popping designs are by Mark Thompson and the original 1991 "Joseph" (on which this production is based) originated under the direction of (the late) Steven Pimlott of whose prodigious talents it provides a bitter-sweet reminder. Revived by Nichola Treherne, this is undoubtedly the show to see if you come to London.

And, as for "feel-good" factor, it's simply off the theatrical Richter scale.

Go, go, go!

Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


THE SOUND OF MUSIC

By Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein

Book by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse

From 'The Trapp Family Singers' by Maria Augusta Trapp

Now playing at The London Palladium Theatre

I must be one of the very few people in this country not to have seen the television series "How do you solve a problem like Maria?" Regarding it as a Lloyd Webber publicity stunt (he's very good at marketing) and yet another reality show, I gave it a miss. If it was intended as publicity it certainly paid off with the four million pound production taking more than ten million in advance ticket sales before it even opened, but aside from that he has not only found his Maria, but lifted what appears to be a very lovely genuine down to earth girl from the drudgery of a telephone call centre to centre stage where she obviously belongs, although it was only last year that she graduated from stage school.

Beginning with a flock of nuns wondering how to solve the problem of Maria, they drift off down the aisles singing, and suddenly there is Maria magically aloft on her mountain, with her pure clear voice singing "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music". This is the winner, Connie Fisher, a Maria who you really believe could 'climb a tree and scrape her knee' - young, enthusiastically well meaning and just a little gauche and tomboyish.

Beset by problems from the beginning, creating even more publicity, the first Maria quit the show in protest when she discovered that her role was being shared. Then, after two disastrous previews, Simon Shepherd, playing the lead role of Captain Georg von Trapp, was considered unsuitable for the part and Alexander Hanson stepped into the breach with only nine days before opening night, admitted he was "wracked with nerves" but carried off the part perfectly, and will probably be playing it for months to come.

Based on the true story of the Von Trapp family of singers, the stage version drastically changed and sentimentalised the facts and it became almost a fairy tale of good triumphing over evil as the family refuse to compromise their beliefs and escape to Switzerland from an Austria annexed by the Nazis.

The narrative positively gallops along. No sooner has Maria arrived as governess to the regimented Von Trapp children, than she has them playing games, singing in perfect harmony, and has run up outfits for all of them from a pair of curtains. This speed rather prohibits the characters from portraying any emotional depth. Von Trapp seems completely unperturbed when his intended bride, Baroness Schraeder (a glamorous Lauren Ward) announces her allegiance with the Nazis and returns to Vienna, and he immediately realises that the governess is his true love.

The 1965 film, starring Julie Andrews, became cult viewing for a rather camp audience to dress up and sing along, but director Jeremy Sams has managed to avoid camp and sentimentality. The children are delightful, even cute, but all (even the youngest) are accomplished actors and perform superbly, especially in the song "So Long, Farewell" when they act out the mechanical parts of a clock ticking away the minutes before they depart one by one, leaving the concert organiser Max (an excellent and enjoyable performance by Ian Gelder of a man trying to remain neutral in an impossible situation) to face the wrath of the Nazi storm troupers.

Robert Jones's sets are absolutely stunning as the mountains melt into the abbey, then the Von Trapp villa and opulent ballroom with glittering chandelier, while Maria's bedroom with a terrifying storm raging outside becomes the setting for the reprise of "My Favourite Things" with children and Maria huddled together on the vast bed.

At the end the 2,000 plus audience were spontaneously on their feet and cheering the show, the children, and the incomparable Lesley Garrett as the Mother Abbess, but the biggest cheer was for their choice - the most perfect Maria. .

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


"Dirty Dancing"

by Eleanor Bergstein

Now playing at the Aldwych Theatre

There have been two important measures of Dirty Dancing's sensational success in the week of its opening. First, the morning news on Radio 4 has told the nation that this show has had the biggest advance sales ever seen in the West End. Secondly, to prove the point, our old friend the ticket tout has made a reappearance on Aldwych, doing uncanny impression of George Cole in the St Trinian's movies.

In dramatic terms, Eleanor Bergstein's book and dialogue require the suspension of an awful lot of disbelief. One suspects that the story is semi-autobiographical but the schmaltzy romance of an innocent seventeen-year-old's coming-of-age has the intellectual depth of an underdeveloped fairy tale.

At times, one also wonders whether the writer has been challenged to create dialogue that is entirely formulated from clichés.

However, this is not what this show is about. Dirty Dancing is really about sex presented with a romantic veneer through the paradigm of dance; and at its best, that is where this production excels.

On the basis that it will give fans exactly what they want, it is destined for a long and happy stay in the West End and an incarnation on Broadway must be a racing certainty.

Like the National's latest sensation, Caroline, or Change, Dirty Dancing is set in 1963 as the Civil Rights Movement begins to excite American youth. The exploration may be tame here but at least sweet, seventeen-year-old Baby is a naive idealist who hates the see people downtrodden.

Georgina Rich once again proves herself to be a talented actress building on the reputation that she created with her performance in Honour playing Dame Diana Rigg's daughter.

Baby joins her family in the land of Hi De Hi at an American equivalent to Butlin's in the Catskills. Fascinating Aida's Issy van Randwyck is mum, while all-American Doctor dad is played by David Rintoul. He is perfectly cast, having spent so long as Doctor Finlay that he could probably carry out an operation in real life. He also turns his hand pretty capably to song (especially in a nice duet with his wife) and dance, as well as flexing acting muscles honed at the RSC.

We also have the misfortune to come across Baby's boringly vain older sister Lisa played by Isabella Calthorpe, who presumably under the instructions of her director James Powell, mugs madly throughout, either to the amusement or intense irritation of viewers.

The plot contrasts rich Robbie, to be honest a rather gay looking waiter who thinks nothing of "knocking up" the odd girl or two, with the incredibly muscular dance teacher Johnny Castle. The latter is played by Josef Brown, a man who was once a principal with the Australian ballet and dances brilliantly but whose acting talents, showing all of the emotional range of Arnold Schwarzenegger on a bad day, look wooden next to his female lead.

The show takes a bit of time to get going but really takes off when Johnny and his normal dancing partner, Penny "the blonde with the legs" played by the lithely brilliant Nadia Coote, strut their stuff to Eric Carmen's Hungry Eyes. This is a Meatloaf-style power ballad that the unkind would suggest comes from a much later era. From that point onwards, Kate Champion's choreography and her well-drilled crew provide a feast for the eyes.

Penny's unwanted pregnancy causes all kinds of problems but it does throw Baby into the massive arms of Johnny, with the aid of a legendary watermelon. After lots of loving and a little dancing, the heroine is eventually enabled to shuck off her childish nickname and become a real woman, Frances.

The show builds to a tremendous finale, first as Johnny at his sexiest dressed in black and a biker's leathers announces to general glee that "nobody puts Baby in the corner" and then drags her on to the dance floor to lead the night's big number (I've Had) The Time Of My Life sung live by Shonagh Daly and Ben Mingay.

By the time that the team of dancers move into this best routine of the evening, the weaknesses have ceased to matter. The audience is going absolutely wild and has returned to those innocent days of youth that have marked Dirty Dancing as a formative part of their lives and Patrick Swayze as a superhero.

This may not be as good as the original but it has enough life, allusion and well choreographed dance routines performed by beautiful people to guarantee that the nostalgic will keep the touts in business for years.

Reviewed by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


SPAMALOT

A New musical lovingly ripped off from the motion picture

MONTY PYTHON and the HOLY GRAIL

From the original screenplay by Graham Chapman, John Cleese, Terry Gilliam, Eric Idle, Terry Jones and Michael Palin

Book and Lyrics: Eric Idle

Music by John Du Prez & Eric Idle

Now playing at The Palace Theatre

Spamalot is the musical for your inner 14 year old boy and it would seem there are a lot of people out there with an inner 14 year old boy. The minute you step into the Palace Theatre to see Spamalot, everything is a mickey take. "Ye Olde Rippey Offy Shoppe" was doing swift business selling souvenirs. I personally didn't check the prices not being in the market for a pair of Python illustrated boxer shorts. The show starts in more or less the same way "And Now for Something Completely Different" started. Finnish peasants frolic for no particular reason. The programme is in the same vein. The excellent Christopher Sieber, Sir Dennis Galahad, tells us what television programmes he has not appeared in and that his favourite colour is terracotta. And hurrah for this! Simpering programme notes telling us how thrilled the performers are to be in the production are in the same league as the now obligatory standing ovation. Is there enough vomit in the world, as Stephen Fry would say? I was rather hoping at the end that Tim Curry, King Arthur, would bark at his loving audience to sit down. Sadly, he didn't.

If you love snot jokes, fart jokes, filling your pants jokes, and a great deal of clever iconoclastic wit, then Spamalot is for you. It's full of all the old gags from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. The fans loved seeing them recreated on the stage. A man behind me was bellowing out "Always look on the bright side of life" with the enthusiasm of a kid at a panto. And why not? So we get to wallow in the killer rabbit routine, the knights that say Ni, the knight who won't give up the sword fight even with all 4 limbs chopped off and so on. It's lunatic stuff. Totally insane comedy is a British tradition, which the Americans have learned to appreciate. Spamalot started on Broadway to great acclaim.

Nothing is sacred to the Pythons. They get word that you can't be a success in the West End without Jews, so they go in search of one. Sir Lancelot is a suppressed homosexual until he finds true love. The Lady of the Lake, a marvellous Hannah Waddingham, is surrounded by a chorus of Rockette type show-girls. To the Pythons, death is only a joke, and there is a running gag accompanied by a song, "I am not yet dead", which is first sung by the splendid Darren Southworth as a plague victim who is not ready to be flung on the cart with the other bodies.

One of the great delights for me is the sending up of contemporary musicals. Sir Galahad and the Lady of the Lake sing a tuneless Lloyd Weber-like love song called "A Song that Goes Like This", whose lyrics simply inform you that we are at the place in the show where you wheel on this sort of dreary song. Wonderful! Hannah Waddingham has a huge range and a superbly adaptable voice, which allows her to send up anything and everything. Her Country & Western turn is bang on.

The production values are of the highest order. The cast of Tim Curry, Christopher Sieber, David Birrell, Tom Goodman-Hill, Robert Hands, Darren Southworth and Tony Timberlake have caught the true Python spirit. The set and costumes by Tim Hatley are pure Python. The Director is American Mike Nichols, who has done a great job. They and the Python team have recreated a mad, silly, iconoclastic evening in the theatre from the film, with a good deal of wisdom sneaking out to hit you on the nose from time to time. My favourite line is Arthur's, "All the world's a stage that we're just going through". Indeed!

Go.

Enjoy.

Reviewed by Judith M. Steiner for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


"The 39 Steps"

by John Buchan, adapted by Patrick Barlow

Now playing at the Criterion Theatre

These days, as Scotland launches its National Theatre (and a very fine one too), it is easy to forget that territories even more serious about their culture got there long ago.

A quarter of a century ahead of the Scots, The National Theatre of Brent was unveiled when the inimitable, irrepressible Desmond Olivier Dingle (or Patrick Barlow) proudly launched his company with The Charge of the Light Brigade and soon after, the Charge of the Jim Broadbent.

The NToB title may not be there for this adaptation of John Buchan's stirring novel of spying and double crossing but the spirit and ethos are present, thanks to its founder, who has adapted John Buchan's tale of an ordinary chap saving his country from disaster.

The recipe has remained the same. Take a famous story and milk it for every gag in sight. This relies on a talented cast, in this case an ensemble of four, each of whom plays their part capably, their timing honed by actress turned director Maria Aitken.

Charles Edwards is hapless hero Richard Hannay, stiff upper lip topped by a pencil moustache and suavity oozing from every pore.

He is pitted against a presumably Nazi professor after picking up a dark lady with a terrible accent at the Palladium. She tells him of The 39 Steps but before she can do more than set him off on a dangerous chase, she reappears groaning with a dagger in her back.

She, like reluctant heroine Pamela and several other glamorous ladies is played by film star Catherine McCormack, clearly relishing her chance to ham it up on stage.

One hundred or so other characters from coppers to train guards, baddies and old ladies are represented by a versatile pair billed as clowns in the programme. Simon Gregor and Rupert Degas provide energy and talent well beyond the call of duty.

Patrick Barlow's adaptation mixes verbal and physical humour and even chucks in a little shadow puppetry. There are many memorable images such as the famous chase along the top of a racing train, with Hannay then jumping onto and then off an entirely convincing Forth Bridge, all reproduced with minimal budget and props.

Like the train, the two hours flash by amid quick costume and persona changes, some trite plotting and corny jokes. The evening is inconsistent but at its best, very funny and should do well in this small West End house in the run-up to Christmas.

Reviewed by Philip Fisher for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


'WICKED' (The untold story of the Witches of Oz)

Music and Lyrics by Stephen Schwartz

Book by Winnie Holzman

now playing at the Apollo Victoria Theatre

BEWITCHED BY A FRIEND OF DOROTHY

Whether you view Wicked as a charming fairy story or a parable for our own troubled times depends on your personal 'take' on this prequel to The Wizard of Oz.

Inspired by a book written by Gregory Maguire some 90 years after the original, this brilliantly-cast new Broadway show traces the back story of the protagonists in the original (1939) MGM movie.

In this latest incarnation it is basically a tale of two college girls attending a Hogwarts-style Academy presided over by Miriam Margolyes' bustling, pneumatically-bustled, Madame Morrible (a disarming cross between the steely gentility of Barbara Cartland and the appealing vulgarity of Mrs Slocombe).

The girls, Glinda and Elphaba, start out as rivals and end up bosom buddies, overcoming numerous misunderstandings, romantic entanglements and personal tragedies along the way until their roles as good and bad witches are reversed.

Wicked's monolithic Heath Robinson-style set extends into the auditorium and sandwiches a proscenium dominated by an animated, winged dragon and a map of Oz which is whisked away (to excited anticipatory applause) to reveal the skeletal insides of a giant timepiece.

Yet, despite its many disparate narrative threads (expertly woven together by Winnie Holzman), the key to the show - and its obsession with time - may perhaps be found in a line spoken by Elphaba, the wicked, green witch during her eventual encounter with her nemesis, The Wizard: 'I wanted to put back the clock.'

As Elphaba, Idina Menzel has been imported from Broadway to play the role she originated. Green, geeky and gauche, she is a be-spectacled outcast from the outset, rejected by her father and lacking the social and physical graces needed to succeed in the competitive college environment into which she is thrust with her crippled younger sister, Nessarose (affectingly played by Katie Rowley Jones, a fragrant worm who eventually turns).

Ms Menzel has a gloriously powerful voice which conveys every nuance of the hurt wariness and self-protectiveness the role initially demands, before assuming a manic mantle of absolute power to end the first act with a stunning vocal and visual coup de theatre - one of many in this enchanting show.

Her complex story is told in flashback by Glinda the Good, who arrives on stage on a pendulum surrounded by a cloud of bubbles. Helen Dallimore plays this egocentric airhead with winning charm and, like the rest of the perfect cast, is given every opportunity to shine by Director Joe Mantello (including a wonderfully tongue-in-cheek homage to Evita in the second-act balcony scene).

Glinda quickly finds her Prince Charming in an equally-vacuous and self-absorbed Fiyero, whose philosophy of 'dancing through life, skimming the surface' immediately marks him out as a fellow spirit; the dashing Adam Garcia establishes himself as a major star in this show, grabbing every opportunity in a role he helped develop in the 2002 NY workshop of the show.

Wicked has been tweaked considerably since it garnered mixed Broadway reviews on its opening: Wayne Cilento's sympathetic musical staging helps each actor develop a truly individual character through movement, while the use of standard English - and Scottish - pronunciation (as opposed to faux-American) is universal by everyone except Ms Menzel and Nigel Planer (an excellent Presidential-style Wizard).

As neither Harry Potter nor The Lord of the Rings exerts any personal fascination for me, I feared that Wicked might exhibit a similar tweeness. But, while teenage audiences may latch on to Wicked's obvious tunefulness, the accessibility of its lyrics (both by Stephen Schwartz) and its appealingly-drawn and extravagantly-costumed, characters (scenic design by Eugene Lee and costumes by Susan Hilferty), others will take pleasure in pursuing such deeper elements as the nature of truth and the place of the thinking individual within a thoughtless, hostile environment.

On the night I visited, the audience was roof-raisingly vociferous in its appreciation of this dazzling show and its generous and universally-talented performers. I only wish that, as the next generation of theatregoers, they could have enjoyed the frisson of hearing Schwartz's beautiful and melodic score played by a Broadway-sized pit orchestra with a full string section and a preponderance of non-synthesised instruments.

The performance lasts approximately 2 hours and 50 minutes, including a 20 minute interval.

Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


AVENUE Q

Music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx

Book by Jeff Whitty

Directed by Jason Moore

Now playing at The NOËL COWARD THEATRE (formerly the Albery Theatre)

'A Canterbury Tales for the Noughties'

By its own admission, Avenue Q is a musical for people who don't like musicals (and there can't be many left who fall into that category in either London or New York these days).

So, the talented Tony Award winning team of Robert Lopez, Jeff Marx (music and lyrics) and Jeff Whitty (book) have created a relentlessly zany puppetfest whose sense of the zeitgeist should convert a hip, young, new audience to the genre.

Engaging the emotions every bit as deftly as the singing actors/puppeteers manipulate their cutesy charges (who include Princeton, an impoverished graduate, straight-laced, do-gooder Kate, closet gay merchant banker Rod and an erotically-charged blonde chanteuse simply known as Lucy The Slut, who is so full-on sexy as to raise the disturbing question as to what extent it may be possible to be turned on by a marionette) Avenue Q also takes stage nudity and sex to new heights.

Of course, we've seen simulated sex on stage before but seldom performed so uninhibitedly as here - and, surely, never between puppets? (It was probably at this juncture that the Henson organisation, from whom the authors had originally sought backing, began to distance themselves - a process that has now resulted in a full-blown disclaimer in the programme.)

But, although Avenue Q should be given a distinct 15 rating (Lion King it ain't), mid-teens and young adults will relish the bawdy nature and catchy songs of this Canterbury Tales for the Noughties.

Set among a stereotypical clique of angst-ridden, New York wannabees, has-beens and might-have-beens, the plot revolves around finding your 'purpose' in life.

Although the musical excursions into pornography and racism inspire two of the show's best numbers, no matter what the 'issue' is, there's a song that fits it as snugly as the glove puppets cleave to their human alter egos.

The lyrics are knock-out brilliant: Lopez and Marx have thrown everything in the book - or, rather, rhyming dictionary - at them to achieve their impact.

The tunes are memorable too - at least in the moment - and the young actors are hugely endearing, each characterising their other halves with such vocal and physical dexterity that it is sometimes virtually impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. The small band rocks and the show looks and sound great.

And, while the choice of Schadenfreude as a song title is undoubtedly tempting fate, by the second half of Avenue Q the audience has been led further down the path of platitudinous personal discovery than some may have felt inclined to go. A fun show? Yes. But perhaps not quite up everyone's street.

Reviewed by Clive Burton for Theatreworld Internet Magazine

Performance times: Monday to Thursday 8pm

Friday 5.45pm & 8.45pm

Saturday 3pm & 8pm

Prices:

Monday to Thursday & Friday (1st Evening) Friday (2nd Evening) & both shows Saturday

STALLS £47.50, £37.50 and £20 £50, £42.50 and £20

ROYAL CIRCLE £47.50, £37.50 and £27.50 £50, £42.50 and £35

GRAND CIRCLE £32.50, £27.50and £10 £35, £30 and £10

BALCONY £17.50 and £10 £20 and £10


BILLY ELLIOT -The Musical

Book and Lyrics by Lee Hall

Music by Elton John

Now playing at the Victoria Palace Theatre

Being possibly the only person in the whole of the British Isles - or even the world - who was not totally blown away by the film version of Billy Elliot, and knowing that this show is also directed by STEPHEN DALDRY, I was prepared to dislike this musical. Also so many films have been adapted for the stage recently, could yet another one succeed?

Well - try as I might to find fault - I just loved it - totally captivated from the beginning when 'The Stars Look Down' and destiny beckons, to the soulful 'Dear Billy', sung with his dead mother, when Billy sets off down the aisle on his long journey to the future.

For one thing I had not expected it to be so funny, and I found myself crying with laughter through most of the first act. There is a serious side to it, of course, the story of a young boy from a poor working class family longing to express himself creatively, a story which coincidentally mirrors the lives of both Elton John and Lee Hall, a Geordie lad himself, which could explain the feeling and emotion in both the exceptional lyrics and the music - best that Elton has ever written in my humble opinion.

TIM HEALY is 'Dad', a rough and ready, down to earth (or even down in the earth) miner, and the time is the mid eighties - the time of the miners' strike when there was the threat of pit closures and they would all be out of work - so he has quite enough on his plate without a son wanting to be a poncey ballet dancer, but he too has a soul - and a surprisingly strong and good singing voice - with a sentimental side which brings tears when he and son Billy sing of his dead wife. HAYDN GWYNNE is magnificent as a disillusioned dance teacher at last finding an exceptional talent to encourage, and her troupe of ballet girls were really great little dancers, a fact which they disguised well.

ANN EMERY is a delightfully comical 'grandma' who may be suffering from senile dementia, but remembers her dead husband well in the song which begins 'I hated the sod for thirty three year' - not the sentiments expected. Be warned - there is swearing throughout - not always in anger but part of general conversation. (There is a translation of the Geordie in the programme, if needed)

PETER DARLING's choreography is outstanding is every scene - the line of riot policemen had their own comic routine, even chubby dance pianist STEVE ELIAS strutted his funky stuff, and there is a delightfully humorous dance with Billy and his gay friend Michael (RYAN LONGBOTTOM - showing terrific comic potential) both in drag.

Sets and sound complimented each other perfectly particularly in the scene where Billy shows his frustration in a frenzied and athletic clog dance which wrecks his bedroom, while the sound of rioting is heard from outside.

It took two years to find the ideal Billy and the long search paid off - on the night I attended this was LIAM MOWER, and this 12 year old was absolute perfection and thoroughly deserved the ecstatic standing ovation that he received - twice! An extremely versatile dancer, actor, singer, gymnast and very likeable - I am astounded that anyone so young could not only be so talented, but had the strength and stamina to carry such a demanding role. The ballet scene where he danced with ISAAC JAMES as his 'older self' to the music of Swan Lake was incredibly beautiful.

This is a musical by which all others will now be judged!

Reviewed by Sheila Connor for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


Les Misérables

based on the book by Victor Hugo, produced by Cameron Mackintosh

Music composed by Claude-Michel Schonberg

Original concept and French lyrics by Alain Boublil

Lyrics by Herbert Kretzmer

Production design by John Napier

Reviewed at Palace Theatre - cast changes will apply

An impressive 17 years after its opening in October 1985, Cameron Mackintosh's production of Victor Hugo's epic masterpiece 'Les Misérables' is still running like a Duracell long-life battery at the Palace Theatre ­ a familiar London landmark on Cambridge Circus.

The piece follows the engaging plight of Jean Valjean, imprisoned for stealing a loaf of bread for his sister's child. When finally released after 19 soul-destroying years, he is relentlessly pursued by his nemesis, the unforgiving Inspector Javert. While Valjean initially seems irreversibly embittered by his experiences in prison and headed for a life of ongoing crime and punishment, a moment of kindness towards him shortly after his release inspires him to aim towards better things. As he reinvents himself, we follow his progress, from the French provinces to the backstreets, barricades and dank sewers of still-revolting mid-19th century Paris. Hugo's consideration of universal themes including the hypocrisy of society, tolerance, courage, religion and love add gravity along the way.

The production looks undeniably spectacular, with no-frills but highly effective sets by John Napier (his revolving, outsized, industrial-style barricades are especially good), and wonderfully evocative lighting by David Hersey. The cast, which has been given a revamp, is huge, and it would be impossible to note everyone here. Of the leads, however, several stand out: Valjean is played with gentle authority by Michael Sterling; Hadley Fraser is well suited to the young romantic lead of Marius (his West End debut), thanks to his handsome looks and sweet voice; and Sophia Ragavelas, who for me was the best singer in the cast, makes an attractive Eponine ­ feisty yet sympathetic. Jerome Pradon is good as the duty-bound tough guy, Javert. An injection of naughty humour is given by the rough-living Thénardiers, played in this production by a charismatic Stephen Tate and Rosemary Ashe - listen out for their lively version of 'Master of the House'.

With the above excepted, I was on the whole quite disappointed with the quality of singing, with some characters unfortunately being fairly inaudible or even out of tune. This was counterbalanced by the orchestra, however, who played wonderfully throughout - no small achievement for this 3-hour-long show.

This musical has been seen by over 50 million people worldwide so far, and there are plenty of positive aspects in this new production for the show to seem likely to run and run. One would hope that Victor Hugo, in the 200th anniversary of his birth this year, would be proud; musicals fans - the small number who haven't already seen this show, will, I'm sure, not be disappointed.

Reviewed by Clare Peel for Theatreworld Internet Magazine

Performances: Monday to Saturday 7.30pm, Thursday and Saturday at 2.30pm.

Telephone bookings: 020 7494 5399 (24hr).  


Glen Henderson and Yes/No Productions present:

STOMP

Reviewed at The Vaudeville Theatre playing at Ambassador's Theatre (from 27/09/07)

In the West End for the first time - and set to take the capital by storm - is STOMP, a unique, energy-fuelled combination of percussion, movement and visual comedy, with - unusually - the dustbin as its central theme. The show launched in Brighton in 1991, following a 10-year collaboration between percussionist Luke Cresswell and actor/singer/ musician/ writer Steve McNicholas. It has since won a host of awards and played in locations as diverse as Athens, Melbourne, New York, Scandinavia and South Africa. This baby has even featured on 'Blue Peter' and in a Coca-Cola commercial (the one with the ice-pick...).

Intrigued? I was. Being a virgin to the phenomenon that is STOMP, I was admittedly slightly fearful of an hour and 40 minutes of bin-lid banging, followed by several painkillers and early to bed. I couldn't have been more surprised. These guys are AMAZING.

Wearing workman's boots, STOMP's immensely talented eight performers ­ mostly trained drummers - stamp (or stomp) and tap their way around the stage in a series of sketches, although there is no apparent plot and no underlying message to be learnt (this is pure visual and aural entertainment). The beats they create with their feet are accompanied by rhythms and sounds produced using impromptu instruments, all connected with garbage (from waste piping and empty plastic bottles to buckets, brushes and dustbin lids). The result is an achingly clever cacophony-cum-symphony of funky rhythms, complex sound patterns and surprisingly toe-tapping tunes, and proof that there is beauty in everything.

It's a spellbinding performance.

The hip, urban backstreet set and the lighting design by Neil Tiplady and Steve McNicholas further enhance the ambience.

The performers work in impressive union - keeping time, interacting with one another and even, in amusing moments, endearingly teasing their less-than-rhythmic audience. Plus - enviably - they look like they are having the absolute time of their lives.

On the evening I attended, there was a standing ovation - something that bodes extremely well for the rest of the run.

Creative, captivating, compulsive and utterly cool. Ten out of ten.

BOX OFFICE: 0870 890 0511

Reviewed by Clare Peel for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


We Will Rock You - (The Musical)

by Queen and Ben Elton

now playing at The Dominion Theatre

Instantaneously catapulted into the mesmeric futuristic world of We Will Rock You, the audience at the Dominion Theatre experience a wonderful roller-coaster ride through Ben Elton's vision of The Brave New World. That's to say, A Brave New Pop World where musical instruments are banned and manufactured pop bands thrive.

Our hero, Galileo, is a freak of nature in this planet of homogenous "Gaga" girls and boys, who furiously strives to bring back rock music to an all too pop-dominated world. With the aid of his sidekick, Scaramouche (yes, the humour is all very obvious but it strangely works), they venture underground and uncover a group of Bohemians who share the aim of bringing the world back to its former glory. Believe me, this is really great stuff. The plot pales into insignificance once the singing and dancing gets going. For someone not overly keen on Queen's songs, my toe really was tapping.

The cast work their way through all the favourites...Under Pressure, It's A Kinda Magic, We Are The Champions...songs which are cleverly interwoven into the plot with ease. They alternate between rigid robotic movements, brilliantly displayed in Radio Gaga, and free flowing head banging during the closing Bohemian Rhapsody. Visually, the costumes excel because of the sheer variety, with the futuristic cyberbabes scantily clad in silver spandex whereas the Bohos opt for a grungy yet glamorous punk ensemble reminiscent of Adam Ant and Boy George.

The Production Designers, Mark Fisher and Willie Williams, famed for innovative tour set designs for Pink Floyd and the Rolling Stones, pulled out all the stops. The revolving screens which create a swirling backdrop to the entire play understandably cost £1 million. They bombard you with a technicolour display of eye-catching images and adverts. The quality of this show is undeniable as from start to finish you are captivated by the stunning visual effects and lavish displays of lighting that are so startling they practically sting your eyes.

As with all the West End musicals, there is the obligatory overly sentimental part which in We Will Rock You is dedicated to all famous rock legends who died young and left beautiful bodies(!), the focus being mainly on Freddie Mercury. Its slush but rather good slush.

As far as the acting is concerned, it is first class. Despite a multitude of great performances, Hannah Jane Fox who plays Scaramouche stole the show. For such a waif of a girl she has a gutsy voice, which is breath-taking at moments. Nigel Planer plays Pop, the long-haired loveable hippy character with zeal and is loved by the audience.

When the West End is plagued with some really dire musicals, We Will Rock You is a real breath of fresh air. There is no need to be an ardent fan of Queen to appreciate this amazing spectacle. To a certain extent it will become dated as references to Britney Spears and Hearsay will have less of an impact in months to come. Yet these anachronisms must be overlooked. Go along, surprise yourself and I will guarantee you will come out humming all the tunes.

Reviewed by Charlotte Seales for Theatreworld Internet Magazine


Disney presents

THE LION KING

The Award-Winning Broadway Musical

now playing at LYCEUM THEATRE (Wellington Street, WC2)

“THE LION KING” ROARS IN TRIUMPH !

In almost 50 year’s connection with the Theatre, and four years as Editor of THEATREWORLD INTERNET MAGAZINE, I have to confess that this is the most difficult review I have ever undertaken - there are simply not enough superlatives in the English language to describe “THE LION KING”

From the moment the curtain rises on the assembly of animals at sunrise at Pride Rock for the ‘presentation’ of the heir apparent (Simba) - the audience is totally silenced, mesmerised, by the unbelievably realistic display of wild-life! Huge Elephants, enormous Giraffes, graceful Gazelles - the procession seems to go on and on. It is not until the final drum crash at the end of “Circle of Life”, that the audience whoops with delight and the applause is deafening!

Perhaps I should confess that this review is totally biased - the reviewer being an utter, unashamed Disney fanatic! However, all the hype, and the brilliant marketing of this (former) animated feature pays off in abundance with the most spectacular and stunningly clever musical we have seen in London’s West End for three decades!

Disney’s first venture onto the Broadway, London and other stages around the world began with ‘Beauty and the Beast’. Many critics dismissed the work as just another piece of ‘Disney escapism’. Whilst ‘Beauty’ was relatively simple to translate to the stage, being a familiar ‘folk-tale, and containing ‘human’ characters - THE LION KING with its ‘cast’ consisting entirely of animals should have presented Disney’s ‘imagineers’ with an almighty headache.

Enter Director AND designer JULIE TAYMOR who, with the addition of the most stunning head-dresses, costumes and make-up INSTANTLY AND BELIEVABLY transforms the actors into the characters they portray. These creatures are no ‘Cats’ in leotards and painted faces! Ms. Taymor is an astoundingly brilliant creator, in as much as she has a concept which weaves its’ way throughout the entire production. The choreography (Garth Fagan) is perfect for the piece, the lighting (Donald Holder) ... vividly conjuring up the sights of Africa ... but above all the brilliantly effective design of the characters costumes and masks - all bear her hallmark! Small wonder that she was the first woman to win a coveted “Tony” award for ‘Best Director of a Musical’ for THE LION KING on Broadway.

All of your favourites from the movie are here -

Rafiki (the wise baboon), The wicked hyenas, Scar (the evil uncle), Pumbaa (the wart-hog), Timon (the wise-cracking meercat), Zazu (the major-domo), Nala (Simba’s bride to be!), Mufasa (Simba’s father), and of course, Simba - the Lion King!

But there are many, many more delights - which to reveal, would be to spoil your enjoyment. Ms. Taymor uses every trick in her book - but wisely and sparingly. She draws on techniques not seen in this country for decades .... shadow puppets .... soaring birds which fill the auditorium ... a beautiful ‘flying ballet’ ... animatronics ... the use of lighting and an extremely simple ‘device’ to depict the death of The Pridelands once Scar has murdered Mufasa. All so simple - yet it takes the mind and imagination of a genius to come up with such effects - the Genius of THE LION KING is Julie Taymor.

I have deliberately NOT singled out any member of the (HUGE) cast - since they all played (I suspect as they were directed to?) as an ensemble. Each member of the cast has his or her own chance to ‘shine’ and they do so with a brilliance that is not evident anywhere on the London stage at present.

Acting-wise, for them to even approach the ‘voice-overs’ in the animated feature (which were such luminaries as James Earl Jones, Whoopi Goldberg and Jeremy Irons) might be considered impossible. However, they don’t need to. The sheer size and spectacle of this stage version totally eclipses the two-dimensional movie and brings ‘The Pridelands’ to life before your eyes.

The original score has been expanded for the stage and now features fifteen musical numbers. South African composer Lebo M has created an evocative blend of African rhythms and chorales, with additional material by Julie Taymor and Mark Mancina. Elton John and Tim Rice have added three new numbers to the five they wrote for the animated film. The resulting sound of The Lion King score is a fusion of Western popular music and the distinctive sounds and rhythms of Africa, embracing the Academy award winning “Can You Feel The Love Tonight” and the haunting “Shadowland”

Any ‘critic’ who pours out their usual ‘bile’ after seeing this production has clearly lost the ‘inner child’ which exists within us all - they should seek a good therapist.. What they will not realise is that audiences have now ‘grown-up’ - and yet not (there’s a child deep down inside all of us!)  Audiences are now demanding what they want - entertainment. Barricade scenes, riots, falling chandeliers and helicopters are a thing of the past.

Disney’s THE LION KING gives you what you pay for, and as always with Disney - you get VALUE FOR MONEY !!

Last night’s prolonged standing ovation from an enraptured audience said it all !!!!!

THEATREWORLD cannot recommend this production more highly than to rate it as it’s new Number one in the Top Ten Musicals and Plays in London!

You’ll have to wait in line for a long time for a ticket,

THE LION KING will ‘reign’ for years at the Lyceum Theatre -

but be patient and, take my word -

it will be something you tell your Grandchildren about -

you’ll have been part of “The Circle of Life”.

THE LION KING is produced by Walt Disney Theatrical Productions under the direction of Peter Schneider and Thomas Schumacher.

Reviewed by Graham Powner - Theatreworld Internet Magazine


MAMMA MIA

featuring a hefty 27 songs by Europopsters ABBA !!!

now playing at Prince of Wales Theatre

This is a review of the original production cast changes will therefore apply

Let’s face it, the idea of sitting through a musical based on over twenty-seven Abba songs could be, for some of us, a form of Japanese torture, for others, an eagerly anticipated night of frivolous fun, happily overdosing on all the great classics.

The main problem lies in deciding on a plot which can be successfully merged with obscurely titled songs such as “Chiquitita”, “Voulez-vous” and “Mamma Mia.” The writer, Catherine Johnson, opts for the typical cliched story about a girl’s search for identity, self discovery and the difficulty of relationships. The story is straightforward. Sophie, a bride to-be, has invited three men, any of whom could be her long lost father to her wedding on a quiet, Greek island. Two of Sophie’s mother’s friends arrive, Tanya and Rosie. These two characters contribute a great deal of humour to the play. Tanya is a glamorous, nymphomaniac “Abs Fabs” Patsy-esque character who towers over Rosie