Theatre Review: Elephant, Greenwich Theatre

‘Elephant’ is a stunningly inventive show and the only disappointment is that its run at Greenwich Theatre is limited to five days. It’s difficult to come up with a simple word that sums up its style as it combines dance, theatre, puppetry, music, Commedia dell’Arte and ritual in a joyous telling of the life story of an African chief This collage of styles and images is amazingly coherent, and thoroughly engrossing.

The production is a hybrid of South African and European influences. This can be most clearly seen in the contrasting performances by Pady O’Connor, as the Devil, and by Zamuxolo Mgoduka as the Chief’s Brother. O’Connor has the physicality of the Devil himself, hissing and sliding his way around the words and the stage, incorporating into his performance a very European style of physical expression. The Devil has all the best lines and he brilliantly uses his hat to emphasise his words and create an extension of his own slippery personality. Contrasting with this, Mgoduka’s movement and speech is rooted in South African dance and language, he often slips into a regional language. The powerfully physical nature of his performance, his feet constantly pounding the earth, emphasise his connection with the land and his ancestors.

The show is supported by exciting music played by a single musician, occasionally enhanced by the cast when the score demands it. An array of percussion instruments provide haunting echoes of the African plains during the darkest and most moving scenes, whilst drumming and singing drive forward the dance sequences with huge energy and enthusiasm.

When the elephants (and it’s no secret that they appear in the play) lumber onto stage the audience has its breath taken away. ‘War Horse’ hasn’t got a monopoly on stunning puppets from South Africa, and for sheer impact the elephants knock Joey the horse and his friends into a cocked hat. They are impressive not only because of their extraordinary visual presence and beautiful movement – the mother elephant taking the baby one under her trunk for protection is a highly emotionally charged moment – but also because they are lit so wonderfully. Sometimes they appear as in a dream behind a gauze, and at other times in shafts of light that mimic the shade of trees in the African bush.

Whilst the play has a strong and compelling narrative, containing many comic and emotional moments, there is a very forceful message. The colonisation of Africa, as visualized by two actors in ragged uniforms selling guns to the tribesmen, is at the root of the modern disjoint conflict between man and nature. It is, ultimately, the reason why at the start of the story our narrator, Chief Zanenvula, cannot take his rightful place in heaven.

This show has been created with real love, and every member of the ensemble contributes to a highly successful evening. Even the programme, rich with photographs and text, is the best value I’ve come across for some time. If it were the West End it would be a souvenir edition sold for £10; here it’s a modest £3. The collaboration between South Africa’s Market Theatre and Newcastle’s Dodgy Clutch Theatre Company is enormously rewarding. The show has, in different guises, been on tour for around ten years and if you haven’t had a chance to see it at Greenwich my guess is that it will be at another venue near us soon.

Theatre Review: Alfie, Greenwich Theatre

On the face of it I can’t think why anybody would like to hang around with Alfie – he’s selfish, aggressive and thoughtless. Yet, he also has the disarming innocence of a talkative adolescent, and that is a combination that has charmed audiences on radio, film and stage for a couple of generations. However much it’s against your better judgement, it’s worth spending time with Alfie while he’s at Greenwich Theatre.

The 60’s setting of Bill Naughton’s play roots the action in an era when the world was beginning to talk openly about sex and violence – the play marks a coming of age, not just for Alfie but for British society. During his voyage of self-discovery Alfie’s character appeals because he’s uncomfortably like us, an Everyman, constantly surprised by life and forced to shift his moral compass in the face of events.

A small cast of five highly talented performers confidently weave their way through Alfie’s sequence of sexual conquests, leaving in their wake a series of abandoned and hopeless figures. While the females are at the heart of the story, Ben Harrison and Courtney Spence create fine characters that convey the general hopelessness of the male of the species – all seeking the unfulfilled dream of happy partnerships. Gabrielle Meadows and Lisa Howard have the most difficult jobs, skilfully creating the widest range of comic and alluring female characters at, literally, the drop of a hat.

Sex is integral to Alfie’s character and director Adrian McDougall plays this theme well. We don’t have any steamy scenes or titillation on stage, but we do have thoroughly prosaic sex in bedsits, flats and the front of cars. This reinforces Alfie’s ordinariness and sets up the inevitable consequence of his action, an emotionally gruelling abortion scene towards the end of the play. It’s difficult to see any hope for the women who Alfie casts off like abandoned lacy knickers. The play does emphasise that fun must be paid for one way or another – and that’s a pretty depressing thought.

This seriousness is offset by a huge amount of comedy, from the cameo interval performance by the tea lady running the transport café to the inventive use of the band to create sound effects. Alfie too makes people laugh, and Edward Elk’s performance is central to the success of the evening. He has some pretty big shoes to fill, following Michael Caine and Jude Law, but Elks tightens the laces and makes those shoes do the walking. Inevitably Elks echoes his screen predecessors, both in speech and looks, but he never mimics them and he is able to strike up an intimacy with the audience with complete conviction. When he takes us back to ‘my place’ it is clear that we have become friends, and this sense of trust is thoroughly engaging. Elk’s Alfie is warm and honest; he thrives by living on a knife edge between comedy and tragedy.

‘Take me as I am, or not at all’ is one of Alfie’s mantras. I should allow him to take you into his confidence for the duration of the play – but with the proviso that he stays on stage and leaves you in your seat, lest you become a conquest too.

Theatre Review: The Cherry Orchard, Greenwich Playhouse

A small theatre space (and Greenwich Playhouse is truly tiny) has the effect of placing actors under intense scrutiny. Sometimes that enables the audience to understand and clarify the detail, and sometimes it means you can’t see the cherry orchard for the trees. Galleon Theatre’s production of Chekhov’s play at the Greenwich Playhouse falls into the latter category. There are some good performances that explore Chekhov’s characters, and there are moments when the power of the language and imagery are vivid – but some larger flaws in Bruce Jamieson’s production overshadow these positives.

Chekhov’s play is as much about what happens off stage as what we see on stage, almost all the exciting dramatic action is reported, for instance the auction and the ball. This pays off when, for instance, Ranyevskaia (played by Maggie Daniels) movingly describes her child’s death in the river on the estate. However, the wider context of the play, the collapse of the Russian ruling class and an underlying economic and social malaise, is less clearly defined and this production fails to explore its wider significance.

The cherry orchard is itself a symbol of departed innocence and of the looming threat of urbanisation as it is cut down to provide housing. The symbolic elements of the production are successfully contained within the set – cherry blossom petals are strewn like confetti at the start of the play, and dustsheets shroud the set at the end. The romantic piano music, however, threatens to drown the play’s edge along with the actors’ voices.

Amongst some strong performances the love pairings are particularly well played – Robert Paul’s repressed entrepreneurial Lopakhin is an excellent foil to Suzanne Goldberg’s acerbic Varia. So too Nik Drake’s enthused proletariat idealist seems a fitting partner for Clare McMahon’s bouncy, playful and wide-eyed Ania. Their general sense of hope, rightly, contrasts with the pitiful denial and ‘fear of being alone’ that haunts their elders.

This production never successfully gets to grips with the parasitical group of hangers-on created by Chekhov to pick over the corpse of a dying lifestyle. It’s difficult believe with any conviction in the intensity of the subtext that should be bubbling under the surface. There are some curious directorial choices that make this assembly of characters an improbable group – I would have them nowhere near my own imaginary cherry orchard – in particular an oddly corseted Charlotta seemed to drift in and out of the action for no particular purpose. On the whole there is indeed, too much drifting.

I feel a real party pooper criticising a production that marks Galleon Theatre’s 20th anniversary and Chekhov’s 150th, but The Cherry Orchard never achieves the ambitious standards that the company sets for itself.

Theatre Review: The Duchess of Malfi, Greenwich Theatre

There’s some pretty impressive lurking going on at Greenwich Theatre. The Duchess of Malfi shouldn’t be all about hiding in shadows but if you don’t get enough of it in a Jacobean revenge tragedy you can feel shortchanged. It is clear that the cast and the audience very much enjoyed the lurk-level in Elizabeth Freestone’s interpretation.

After all the shifty action in the windows and the doors, there’s no way round confronting the bloody nature of the play head on. Knifing, incest, mutilation, infanticide, regicide, strangulation, and torture are its currency or even, dare I say it, its lifeblood. Since we have turned up to see the play we might as well enjoy its violence, and for the greater part of the evening this worked well. Pools of blood and stained blankets effectively implied the horror without too many full on Tarantino moments; the lady in front of me barely had her hand from in front of her eyes during the second half.

So, aside from the lurking, what’s it all about and what line has this production taken? I found that a little hard to define and, although the production is an enjoyable gallop through a gory story, I feel that play has more to offer than that.

I wasn’t convinced by the decision to set the play in what I took to be the 1930’s against the gathering clouds of war. The Duchess’s powerful cardinal brother sheds his cassock for a Fuhrer’s uniform and suddenly we are in World War II. The only scene that I thought was illuminated by this setting was when Antonio, the Duchess and their family cross the stage like refugees fleeing from the ruins of their former lives. This image was certainly poignant and made the subsequent murders all the more shocking.

There are a couple of really fine performances that get to the heart of Webster’s theatricality. Tim Treloar as Bosola is a truly evil presence making the pulse beat faster; even when he repents it is difficult for us to find any sympathy. Aislin McGuckin’s Duchess is a commanding presence at the emotional centre of the production, finely moving from love to ruin whilst retaining a perfectly believable poise and integrity.

The imagery in Webster’s play is surprisingly modern and effective, sideswipes at corrupt politician and duplicitous Catholic prelates are hard hitting and have powerful resonances for our age, and possibly for all time. Elizabeth Freestone is greatly skilled at creating images that keep the audience on its toes, and none more so than the startling opening sequence in which we are left to watch the members of the cast slowly breathe their way through a minute’s silence. However, despite the visual strength, the violence and the well-told story, nagging at the back of my mind throughout was a feeling that the production didn’t really make sense of the action; I needed a firmer guide through the comings and goings.

The designer, Neil Irish, has used the space with complete assurance and it’s a real pleasure to see that he has made the fabric of Greenwich Theatre breath again. StageOnScreen’s production, specifically designed for the theatre, confirms that the building can be much more than a tour venue; we really do have a jewel on our doorstep.

Theatre Review: Volpone, Greenwich Theatre

One of Greenwich Theatre’s highlights last year was its collaboration with Stage on Screen resulting in productions of Dr Faustus and The School for Scandal. These plays won national critical claim, transferred to DVD and are, by all accounts, selling well to schools throughout the country. The productions marked a welcome return to producing by our theatre and 2009’s Dr Faustus was unashamedly local, using a set and props that looked as though they’d been borrowed from the Royal Observatory for the purpose. Even the DVD of the production began with a high-speed trip down the Thames taking in local sights before arriving at Greenwich Theatre.

Ben Jonson’s Volpone, which opens this week, is the new joint project and will be joined by Webster’s The Duchess of Malfi. To some extent Volpone is a parable for our times, a comic story of greed, covetousness and feathering one’s own nest – the director might have had Canary Wharf in her sights as she travelled to Greenwich. However, the moral of the tale is wider than this and applies to get-rich-quick schemes throughout the ages. For his audience Jonson ironically, and successfully, seeks to mix ‘profit with your pleasure’.

The arcaded walls and tiled floor root the play in Venice, while smoke billows ominously around the theatre. There is a sense of spaciousness, created by designer Neil Irish, that is appropriate to large Venetian piazzas and palazzos. It is a world inhabited by humans who exhibit almost every deadly sin, most notably greed and lechery. Jonson, and the production, successfully unsettle the audience by creating drama in that most awkward area, between high comedy and brutal violence. Often the play is hilarious, but that only highlights the brutality of deception and rape.

The play’s success can be measured by the comic relationship between the double act at the centre of the action. In this production we find an almost perfect pairing, Richard Bremmer’s spidery Volpone disgusts and amuses in equal measure and is served brilliantly by Mark Hadfield’s energetic and crumpled fixer, Mosca (aka the parasite). Amongst the excellent cast I would highlight James Wallace’s creation of a hugely endearing character, Sir Politic Would-be. His sunburnt features and panda eyes parody perfectly the Englishman abroad. His character seems to pay homage to the late Iain Carmichael as the audience’s sympathy is aroused by his truly pathetic attempts to be an entrepreneur.

Director Elizabeth Freestone has created a hugely imaginative world in which she can slow time down, speed it up and rewind it in order to manipulate the characters for the audience’s greater enjoyment, the action after the interval being a particular treat. The costumes are wonderfully absurd creations, touched with slightly cartoon-like features, for instance stiff curled tailcoats and absurd feathers. The only element which worried me was the role of Volpone’s colourful array of companions, including a rather tall dwarf, and an unmusical castrate. Although these are Jonson’s comic clowns, in this production, they were less funny and more uncertain than one might expect.

The introduction in the programme suggests that an aim is to ‘restore Greenwich Theatre to its position as one of London’s significant producing theatres’. On this evidence it has returned and now needs to consolidate its success – perhaps with Volpone’s sister production The Duchess of Malfi?

Volpone at Greenwich Theatre running until April 10th

Theatre Review: Laughter in the Rain, Churchill Theatre Bromley

Neil Sedaka at the piano with actor Wayne Smith and cast on the opening night of Laughter in the Rain, a new musical about Sedaka’s life. Photo: Churchill Theatre

Monday night in Bromley and a sea of grey heads in the stalls greeted us. They were here to see a new musical about the life and times of Neil Sedaka, who started his rock-n-roll career in the 1950s and is still going today.

Much to my shame I thought he was dead, provoking peals of laughter from the theatrical crowd I was with in the interval bar. “No! He’s alive!” chastised one, a West End actress and Greenwich glitterati.

And still going strong by all accounts: he turned up in Bromley for the opening night of Laughter in the Rain last week and was so taken with it he changed his flights so he could see it again. ‘Forty of my songs, three hours, audience on its feet, all about me…’ You can understand why he called Heathrow.

Sedaka started life sharing a two-room flat in New York with his family and three aunts. As a child his mother encouraged him to play the piano with a career as a concert pianist in mind. But rock-n-roll happened and the teenage Sedaka rebelled and started writing songs with geeky neighbour Howard Greenfield. Together they formed a musical partnership that sold 40 million records between 1959 and 1963.

Stardom faded abruptly in the face of the ‘British Invasion’ by the Beatles in the 1960s, which left him skint. But a 1970s comeback helped by Elton John put him back on top. Now he’s a legend, with a new album out this year.

It’s an interesting tale spanning six decades – rags to riches to rags and back to riches – and it’s told simply and well. It could do with delving deeper into the darker years to give it a bit more emotional narrative, but it skips along at a pace from hit to hit.

And that’s what the audience is there for: the songs. A full house would guarantee dancing in the aisles. A three-quarter house on a cold Monday night and we only danced at the end. A weekend crowd would be a lot of fun.

Wayne Smith plays the lead. His voice is beautiful. He sings flawlessly in almost every song – some feat. But two scenes nearly steal the show. Kieran Brown as Tony Christie singing Amarillo could easily bring the house down if cheesed up. And Kieran Brown (again) as Elton John could, if camped up, run away with the night. Both scenes are kept in a lowish key, probably for that reason.

The set is effective. A cinemascope style screen shows film footage and photographs from the time to lend authenticity and occasional poignancy. The clarity of staging lets the music shine through.

All up it’s a lot of fun, and a rollicking good show. A bit of tweaking on its way round the theatres of England as it tours this summer (Elton John needs new glasses, for starters) and the West End must surely beckon.

Until Saturday 13 March, Churchill Theatre, Bromley

Greenwich Yacht Club puts on panto for charity

Greenwich Yacht Club put on a pantomime for its members and selected guests yesterday afternoon. The fundraising production was titled Blazing Paddles III, and Mary Mills went along to enjoy the show – here’s what she made of it:

Greenwich Yacht Club doesn’t seem the most obvious place for thespian endeavour – let alone an actual panto. Yet they do seem to put something on every year with a cast of thousands. It also seems you only find out about it by accident – so thank you Roger, for telling me at the last minute that it was on, and I really enjoyed it. (Roger, with his triple candelabra, is the musical director).

So this was all about the adventures of Dick Dangler and his faithful Puss cat who had to get the beanstalk Giant to eat chocolate instead of mud so that they could join Greenwich Yacht Club and save beautiful Virginia from the evil clutches of Commodore Tacktightly – or at least I think it was. Tacktightly came from Little Luffing, elsewhere on the river – and as Barnacle Bob explained he could face any danger on the high seas “but its people from Erith I can’t handle”. The whole thing was saved when the Giant took up with Virginia’s sister Chlamydia helped by the ministrations of Flossie, the Woolwich Free Fairy. Anyway, everyone married everyone else in the end so it must be alright.

The cast was headed by the redoubtable, current Club Commodore., Nick Day as Commodore Ophelia Nobbes – with a mountain of blue hair and an impressive bosom. Backing was provided by the GYC Combined Foot and Mouth Chorus who enthusiastically sang a vast selection of songs – anything so long as it had the word ‘sailing’ in it somewhere.

I suppose all there is left to say is that a good time seems to have been had by all and that proceeds will go to a selection of charities headed by the RNLI.

Theatre Review: ‘East’ at the Greenwich Playhouse

Due to another journey of chaos from Blackheath to Greenwich on a number 286, I arrived at the Greenwich Playhouse 5 minutes into the start of ‘East’. Whilst sneaking into the back row, I was immediately bombarded with a tirade of every swearword known to English. This was swiftly followed by a graphic depiction of one man beating through the skull of another, before the two become firm friends.

Such is Steven Birkoff’s ‘East’, an affectionate, funny, make-no-bones depiction of life in grimy East London in the fifties. This collection of sketches about twenty something Mike, his family and friends is not for the faint hearted – it’s explicit in every way and has lost none of its shock effect in the 34 years since it was written. I don’t think I’ve heard the ‘c’ word as many times in 27 years as I did in 90 minutes watching this play.

However, with decorum and sensibility ruthlessly cast aside, it’s actually very easy to engage with ‘East’, and with Talking Props’ interpretation of it. It’s relentlessly energetic and fast paced, and the whole thing has a real honesty to it. Perhaps prostitution, unwitting incest and street violence aren’t truths everyone wants to face, but Berkoff’s mission is to force us to imagine in vivid, dirty terms what life was like for the working classes at the time.

All the fresh-faced cast members are making their professional debuts, but you wouldn’t know it: they are totally believable. Charlie Fairless as Mike is particularly strong and has real authenticity, himself an East Londoner. Special mention also goes to Damien Hallett as Mike’s mother, for working the Nora Batty look with such conviction and giving the funniest performance of the play.

But the real charm of this play is in the language. Weaving expletives into Shakespearean styled (and oft quoted) verse doesn’t sound as though it should work in 1950s Stepney, but it does. The spotlight soliloquies and rhythmic speech lift the characters out of grime and poverty and give them intelligence, insight and unfathomable beauty. The faithfulness and commitment with which Talking Props have undertaken ‘East’ show this genius script in its best possible light.

If I had to venture one criticism about this production, it would be about the look of it. The lack of props necessitates the miming of everyday actions such as eating and travelling, which is a little awkward and detracts from the realism. Also, the costumes are a bit hit and miss. Whilst Mike’s slim jim tie over a grubby vest looks bang on, Sylv’s dress looks as though someone just found it in a charity shop last week and thought it would ‘do’, but it isn’t in keeping with the era.
However, these are minor failures and do not prevent this production from being a major success. If you have even the smallest sympathy for Mary Whitehouse’s view of the world, you might be best to stay away. Otherwise I’d strongly recommend taking a deep breath, getting out of your comfort zone and heading East.

*Congratulations to Greenwich Playhouse’s Artistic Director, Alice de Sousa, on being awarded the international ‘Premio de Talento’ from the Portuguese Government in recognition of her 25 year career in the industry.

‘East’ by Steven Berkoff is at the Greenwich Playhouse until 4 October

Theatre Review: A Doll’s House

Following hot on the heels of the Donmar Theatre’s star-studded effort, the much smaller, much younger Candyking Theatre Company have turned their hands to a new translation of this Ibsen favourite.  This 1879 tale of betrayal, revelation and self-discovery features Torvald, an ambitious banker (yes, banker) and Nora, his seemingly doll-like, submissive wife.  When Torvald discovers that Nora once committed fraud, albeit to help him, his reaction changes their lives irrevocably as Nora finds the illusion of her perfect life shattered and decides to leave him.

Kate Dion-Richard as Nora is captivating, oozing stage presence and integrity despite a few slips in accent.  The volte-face between act one’s vain, immature Nora and act two’s heroically honest and dignified Nora is a difficult one to pull off, but Dion-Richard manages to do it with some style and succeeds in evoking both sympathy and respect.  Brett Harris’s Torvald is suitably sleezy and deluded, with Jose Domingos’ calm, melancholic Dr Rank giving a good counterpoint. Domingos stands out as the most seasoned performer with a slickness that isn’t quite there with the others, however all are invested enough in what they’re doing for it to not really matter.

The intimate setting of the Greenwich Playhouse plays into the main metaphor’s hands by making you feel as though you, along with Nora, are trapped in the eponymous prison of superficiality imposed by the controlling social climber Torvald.  The elegant Victorian set, with a two-thirds scale blue Chesterfield sofa and tiny fireplace, highlights the sophistication and yet suffocation that characterise Nora’s life.

It’s easy to forget how unthinkable Nora’s actions would have been in Ibsen’s time as his victory of honesty over delusion today looks more like a happy ending than he probably ever intended.  Clearly Ibsen’s work does not have the same subversive, groundbreaking effect it once did, however Candyking’s faithful portrayal successfully preserves some of the contextual significance of Nora’s choice.  The more enduring skill is that of Ibsen’s playwriting and his use of melodrama, suspense and pace – coupled with some strong performances from Candyking – still make this a compelling piece of theatre.

A Doll’s House by Candyking Theatre Company
Greenwich Playhouse until 13 September
Tue-Sat 7.30pm, Sun 4pm. £12/£10

Theatre Review: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Something Wicked This Way Comes
Act Now! Theatre Company @ Greenwich Playhouse
8-12 July

Tragedy, monologues and cackling: welcome to Something Wicked This Way Comes. This new play, ‘written’ and directed by David Hunt, cuts and pastes about a dozen of Shakespeare’s best/worst villains into one play, examining what really drives them to evil and who’s in control. Macbeth’s three witches hold everything together, the malevolent puppet masters to the villains who tread their different paths to wickedness.

The plot is wafer thin and actually reminded me of those musicals like Mamma Mia!, where someone thought that the pre-existing music (or in this case characters) was so good that hanging them together by a loose story thread would be a recipe for success. Well, David Hunt’s certainly picked the ‘Dancing Queen’ and ‘Voulez Vouz’ equivalents of Shakespeare’s evil creations for Something Wicked – Lady Macbeth, Iago, Goneril & Regan, Edmund, are all there and all just as heinous as Shakespeare intended. The language retains all its staggering beauty and complexity in transition and Hunt weaves his original lines in admirably seamlessly. The actors’ performances are straight from the Royal Shakespeare Company text book – manic, hysterical and tormented – with special mention going to young Jess Leavins (Witch 2, Regan), who plays her evil a little more subtly and is quite the most charismatic presence.

For Shakespeare fans like me it’s an interesting premise but my companion, who isn’t as intimately familiar with the plays, found it a little inaccessible – it switches between plays very quickly and focuses on self analyzing soliloquies rather than the acts of murder, rape and madness themselves. The plot follows a cyclical structure that is allegorically effective in stressing the circle-of-hell theme, but sacrifices momentum in the process. It’s more of a study than a story and at two-and-a-half hours it’s a very long psychology lesson just to teach us that lust, revenge and megalomania are generally the main drivers for acts of evil, if we didn’t know that already.

Perhaps I am a purist but I do wonder whether Something Wicked rather misses Shakespeare’s point in only exploring one end of the morality scale that so fascinated the Bard. Shakespeare’s plays work by having light and shade as equal partners: there are both good and bad characters (and good and bad within characters), funny moments as well as serious and periods of action to counteract the soliloquising. Something Wicked, in its quest for the deepest depths of human despair, does away with many of these counterpoints and consequently the evil loses some of its power. It’s also utterly exhausting watching such an intricate and unrelenting tirade of wickedness and I think I’ve had my lifetime’s quota of cackling. Much like Abba’s songs do for Mamma Mia!, it’s the Bard’s words that rescue this play, with everything else merely secondary and ultimately rather forgettable.

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