Tag Archives: London Classic Theatre

My Mother Said I Never Should

reviewed at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds on 17 September

History repeats itself – but always adds a twist, a different dimension. So Charlotte Keatley’s 1987 play about the mothers and daughters of one family over four generations has its own reverberations in 2018. Not to mention the 30 years in between.

Bek Palmer’s design for Michael Cabot’s new London Classic Theatre production emphasises the wasteground – that bombed-out corner of a not-yet reinvented Manchester which serves as a playground for the young and an ever-visible reminder of young hopes never realised.

It’s an ingenious device and transforms with great simplicity into the houses and gardens which the four women occupy between 1940 and 1987. A husband with a good job, a house and children were top of the wish-list in those days before the 1960s blew it all apart.

Doris (Carole Dance) and Margaret (Connie Walker) tread the conventional route. Jackie (Kathryn Ritchie) and Rosie (Felicity Houlbrooke) take different tracks, but only because there is always the fall-back safety net which the traditional provides.

Walker and Dance are both excellent as the two women who have expected more than life was ever really going to offer them, but are learning that the hard way. Ritchie’s Jackie and Houlbrooke’s Rosie are both free spirits yet as earthbound as kites which need the right sort of wind to become airborne.

Four star rating.

My Mother Said I Never Should runs as the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds, with a matinée on 19 September, until 20 September. it can also be seen at the Civic Theatre, Chelmsford on 30 and 31 October and at the Key Theatre, Peterborough between 1 and 3 November.

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2018

Private Lives

reviewed at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds on 12 September

Coward’s Private Lives is a deceptively simple play to stage, as director Michael Cabot acknowledges in his programme notes for London Classic Theatre’s new production. His designer Frankie Bradshaw has provided two sets which emphasise this.

The characters are caught in a sort of no-man’s-land, poised between two world wars. Their society is no longer that of the Bright Young Things of the 20s but it still has its own rules and restrictions as well as the dual concept of male and female sexuality.

Amanda is the character who perhaps recognises this most clearly; a double divorce will isolate her in a fashion which neither of her husbands is likely to experience. Sybil is the eternal, cosseted ingénue who only at the end of the play perhaps – and it’s a big perhaps – has a glimmering that standing up for yourself needs to start at the first step into adult society rather than at the church door.

One might say that all this subtext is communicated in spite of some of the actors, not through them. Helen Keeley looks and acts Amanda to the last flick of an eyelash but she speaks Coward’s staccato dialogue with a machine-gun delivery which reduces much of it to the spoken equivalent of one of WS Gilbert’s patter songs – “this particularly rapid unintelligible patter isn’t generally heard …”

Her Elyot is Jack Hardwick, who has the well-tailored measure of his part, as does Kieran Buckeridge’s buttoned-up Victor as he tries to cope first with a wife who’s just not on his wavelength and then with Sybil at her own point of no return.

Olivia Beardsley’s pastel, marcel-waved portrait of this secondary female role has its strengths as well as its sillinesses. Rachael Holmes-Brown plays the maid Louise, making her into less of a caricature than some I have seen lately. But it would all be so much better if three acts hadn’t been crammed into two hours, including the interval, and the dialogue allowed to breathe.

 

Four star rating.

Private Lives is at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds until 16 September with matinées on 13 and 16 September as part of a national tour to 25 November including Harlow Playhouse (19-21 October, the Alban Arena, St Albans (24-25 October), the Civic Theatre, Chelmsford (26-28 October) and the Key Theatre, Peterborough (13-15 November).

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2017

Hysteria
reviewed at Chelmsford Civic on 7 February

Farce is the bright side of the tragic mask – and vice versa. Take Terry Johnson’s Hysteria, which postulates a meeting between the fathe of psychology Sigmund Freud and surreal painter and sculptor Salvador Dali. The one is Viennese old-school, formal – almost repressed, if that isn’t too much of a contradiction – coming to the end of his life with non-curable cancer, in exile, in Hampstead.

The other is as extrovert in his flamboyant lifestyle as on canvas or marble. He too is an exile, in just as many ways as Freud. Both try to shut out those aspects of the late 1930s which they knw they cannot ameliorate and which are therefore better left to simmer by themselves. But in farce, reality keeps on butting in; for Freud it is persnified by his doctor and friend Abraham Yahuda who sees all too clearly what Kristalinacht is heralding.

All good farces require doors to be locked or flung open at the author’s whim. There should also be a scantily-clad young woman and the development of a whole sequence of situations which the other characters always misunderstand. Enter Jessica, in search of a particular case notebook. The trouble for any director, here London Classic Theatre’s Michael Cabot, is that our perceptions of what are now historical characters and events have changed (I hesitate to say, matured) in the past 24 years.

There’s an excellent set by James Perkins and a real sense of ensemble playing (a prerequisite for farce) from the cast. Ged McKenna is sympathetic, as well as deliberately infuriating, as Freud while John Dorney gives a nuancedly over-the-top portrait of Dali, a many who is not alays sure that he is entirely comfortable in the persona he has created for himself.

Moray Treadwell’s Dr Yahuda comes over as a man who has made a place for himself in this strange country while being actively concerned with the fate of those less fortunate than he. Summer Strallen is a soft-voiced Jessica, which may suit the young woman’s quiet determination to achieve what she so desperately wants, however embarrassingthe situations into which that leads her. But it does put a strain on the audience’s attention, particularly in the first scene.

Three and a half-star rating

Hysteria is at the Civic Theatre, Chelmsford on 8 Febryary and tours nationally until 20 May, including the Key Theatre, Peterborough (7-8 March) and the Mercury Theatre, Colchester (18-20 May).

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The Birthday Party

(reviewed at the Norwich Playhouse on 23 February)

People play games, with others as well as with themselves. Playwrights play word games with both their charcters and with us, the audience. The Birthday Party was Pinter’s first full-length play to be staged, in 1959 to bemused, not to say highly critical, audiences.

Now we accept it, if not always easily, on its merits. Michael Cabot’s new touring production fo London Classic Theatre is high on intelligence and keeps up the pace, from those opening and closing inanities exchanged by long-term husband and wife Petey and Meg to the veiled self-revelations of their long-term lodger Stanley and those of the two strangers Goldberg and McCann who muscle into the boarding-house.

Personal revelations come, on the surface, thick and fast but, as always with Pinter, none are to be taken at face value. Jonathan Ashley’s Goldberg, his first name as slithery as his relations with Meg and neighbour Lulu, spins fantasies as complex as those of Stanley himself, the lay-a-bed recluse in flight from who knows what.

Designer Bek Palmer sets the action in a realisticly furnished set on a raised platform surrounded by black tabs. We’re in many different worlds at once – some of which overlap while others collide. Gareth Bennett-Ryan takes full advantage of Stanley diatribes as the pampered surrogate son and lover is changed from a sort of spiky relaxation into the collapsed creature of Goldberg and McCann’s manipulations.

The subtlest performance comes from Cheryl Kennedy as Meg, that archetypical frustrated wife and non-mother. Perhaps she was indeed once the belle of the ball in the tulle swatches of her pre-war party dress and has slunk into slovenly housekeeping purely as a reaction. Ashley makes a dominant (as well as domineering) villain with Declan Rodgers radiating menace as McCann.

The Birthday Party plays at the Norwich Playhouse on 24 February. It can also be seen at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds 25-27 February, the Key Theatre, Peterborough 1-2 March, the Civic Theatre, Chelmsford 8-9 March, the Harlow Playhouse 25-27 April, the New Wolsey Theatre, Ipswich 10-14 May and the Alan Arena, St Albans on 9 June as part of the national tour until 18 June.

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2016

Waiting for Godot

(reviewed at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmuns on 22 September)

Director Michael Cabot takes us through Beckett’s most performed play at a brisk rate which emphasises the comedic aspects while remaining respectful to the text. I seem to remember Peter Hall’s original London production as taking a far more reverential approach. This one works, thanks in large part to a set design by Bek Palmer which engages our eyes while five excellent actors engross our ears.

Andy Grange’s lighting complements the shimmering black floor-cloth, suggestive of some primeval swamp or morass. it’s studded with light stepping-stones, like so many giant and bleached lily-pads. The all-important tree where Vladimir (Peter Cadden) and Estragon (Richard Heap) wait for their appointment with the mysterious Godot is a grey columnar affair, dangling its thick tangle of roots at their eye-level. Dull mirrors and other similarly suspended trees form its bakground.

As the two men wrangle, Vladimir pontificates and Estragon grumbles, they’re joined by Pozzo (Jonathn Ashley) and his slave-servant Lucky (Michael Keane). Pozzo blusters in true ringmaster fashion, cracking his whip and demonstrating his top-hatted authority over lesser mortals. The boy(s) who announce at the end of the acts that Godot won’t in fact be coming until the next day are played by Sonja Zobel.

The joshing between the two main characters is beautifully defined by Heap and Cadden; their timing is impeccable and they use the constant switches in their relationship between mutual support and cross-patch irritation to win and keep the audiences sympathy. Keane comes into his own with Lucky’s incomprehensible tirade at the end of the first act, deservedly an applause-reaping scene. This production shows the unsubsidised London Classic Theatre at the top of its form.

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2015

Absent Friends

(reviewed at the Civic Theatre, Chelmsford on 19 May)

Nobody does the tragi-comedy of the wrecking of relationships more skillfully than Alan Ayckbourn. Absent Friends, now 40 years old, offers us four such couples; however, one husband is bed-ridden at home and the other has lost his fiancée through a drowning accident. Michael Cabot’s new touring production for London Classic Theatre eschews the temptation to update it but treats it naturally, as a piece of its period which still has something to say to its audience even after a lapse of time.

Simon Kenny’s set – an affluent couple’s living-room in a house in an upwardly mobile area – displays all the most-have style of the period. It’s the home of businessman Paul (Kevin Drury) and his increasingly disenchanted wife Diana (Catherine Harvey). Colin (Ashley Cook) is a long-time member of their circle, perhaps less so now than when they were in their late teens and twenties. Diana is throwing a tea-party for Colin, now that he has so tragically lost his beloved Carole.

Except, of course, that he doesn’t really want consolation; he’s content with his memories of an untroubled, beautiful relationship (one which time had ensured would never even begin to sour). Marge (Alice Selwyn) has pampered her husband Gordon to such an extent that he is now an obese hypochondriac; her compensation is shopping. Hopeless salesman John (John Dorney), a man of perpetual motion, has acquired a wife Evelyn (Kathryn Ritchie), all monosyllabic estuary-English and laconic gum-chewing, and a baby, son Wayne.

Ayckbourn has laid these characters out on the table for examination, and Cabot performs a decisively neat dissection of them. From Dorney’s near-manic twitches and shuffles as John through the anger which is scarcely controlled in Drury’s thoroughly unpleasant Paul to the almost gormless bonhomie with which Cook invests Colin, the detailing is precise.

Diana has a couple of opportunities in which her frustrations boil over; the first is ostensibly aimed at Evelyn and the second (actions sometimes speak louder than words) at Paul. Harvey makes the most of these. One yearns to shake Marge out of her febrile complacency – she’s killing Gordon with pandering to his malaises while over-feeding him – Which is a tribute to Selwyn’s characterisation. As for Ritchie’s Evelyn… one can only say that if there is to be a survivor in their marriage, it won’t be John.

Absent Friends plays at the Civic Theatre, Chelmsford on 20 May and at the Theatre Royal, Bury St Edmunds between 2 and 6 June as part of a national tour to 18 July.

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Filed under Plays, Reviews 2015