Michael Morpurgo wrote Private Peaceful with a mission in mind, that was to help grant posthumous pardons to soldiers shot in the First World War for cowardice; this was, happily, realised in 2006.   In Simon Reade’s adaptation the character Private Peaceful too has a mission; to ‘set the record straight’ with regard to his conviction for cowardice. In a play lasting 80 minutes, he does just that – the performance lasts only slightly longer than the court martial that has convicted him.

The stage is set without any trappings, just a young man curled up on an old iron bedstead in a barn, awaiting execution by a firing squad.  The young man is Private ‘Tommo’ Peaceful, and the play keeps returning to this location as his pocket watch “slowly slides away the seconds” towards the final moments of his life.  We experience flashes of his life as Tommo’s story gradually unfolds during the course of the play.  There is an inevitability about the structure of the narrative but the trick that is so successfully pulled off is to make the audience care intensely about Tommo’s journey.

Mark Quartley, an outstanding young actor at the start of his career, takes on the role of Private Peaceful, and he creates a touching and affecting portrait.  During the course of the play he is called upon to create a battalionful of other characters that populate the stage in Tommo’s journey from Devon to the Western front.  The performance is energetic, with clear and precise transformations from one character to another, as Quartley effortlessly becomes a young wide eyed-child, a colonel, a schoolteacher and even a cantankerous old woman urging Tommo to join up for the army well before he’s reached the proper age.  He has an impressive physical presence and a vocal precision that creates and maintains the audience’s attention.  Sound and lighting carefully enhance the simplicity of the play; they are both judiciously used to indicate mood and location.  As the play reaches its conclusions key moments are dramatically staged, slow motion is used highly effectively to illustrate the pain of the battlefield and the worthlessness of human life on the Western Front.

The narrative is full of carefully woven images that trace Tommo as he grows from a young child in an Edwardian country idyll to the final moments of his life. The mud that young Tommo feels between his toes as a child when he walks excitedly through a stream becomes the gooey mud that “wants to drown you” in the trenches.  The thrill of seeing his first aeroplane cutting its way through the Devon sky becomes the smoke-trail of a Royal Flying Corp biplane plunging to the ground over Belgium.  The images that are evoked at the start of the play turn to dust as the horrors of war overcome Tommo and his brother Charlie.

Simon Reade’s adaptation makes no concessions to children regarding the reality of the battlefield and it has real bite; for the adult it has the simplicity and punch of a well-told parable.  However, there is also a lightness of touch that allows the audience to laugh at the world through Tommo’s eyes, even in extremis.

Michael Morpurgo’s books about the First World War and its effect on the individual have reached an entire generation of children and their influence grows. As the lavish stage adaptation of War Horse continues to run in the West End and the publicity machine cranks up for Spielberg’s adaptation of it for the big screen, Private Peaceful quietly begins its national tour at Greenwich Theatre.  It is worth noting how effective a one man show can be; it is startlingly simple, and surprisingly effective.

Private Peaceful is on at Greenwich Theatre until Sat 29th January.

Trudging through the snow and ice with the kids makes a pantomime feel particularly special. Perhaps it’s the anticipation of the warm atmosphere inside the theatre, or it might just be memories of being taken to Greenwich Theatre as a kid back in the ‘70s.  Cinderella, this year’s Christmas panto doesn’t disappoint, it packs a punch in every department and leaves the audience overflowing with goodwill.  It might lack the celebrity touch, but while Hasslehoff swashbuckles in Wimbledon and Melinda Messenger is the genii of Bromley, it is the strength of the ensemble that may make Greenwich’s offering the pick of the bunch.

Every performer works their brightly coloured socks off to give the audience a great time and the script, expertly written by Andrew Pollard, gives the whole cast a chance to shine.  Pollard returns to Greenwich for the fifth time as a dame, this time as an ugly sister, so what better place to start when talking about this show?  From the wispy tops of their ridiculous wigs to the handsomely constructed knickers under their fantastical dresses the ugly sisters, in the form of a thin Pollard and a wide Paul Critoph, relish every comic moment.  Their sheer size gives them, literally, a comic head start as they totter around the stage on huge platform shoes.  The audience loved the double entendres and their easy command of the stage – we know we’re in safe hands and the laughs are long and loud.   Their set pieces, in the bedroom and the bathroom, are accomplished pieces of silliness and both performers know exactly how to use an improvised aside for maximum effect

Adam Dougal as Buttons builds a cheeky relationship with the audience, whilst Tania Mathurin, playing the Fairy Godmother, doesn’t have to rely on pyrotechnics to carry her through the show; she has a cracking voice and a presence to match.   In fact all the cast are able to carry a song and Steve Marwick’s musical direction shrewdly caters for all age groups with medleys effortlessly merging The Andrews Sisters with the Eurythmics and Tinie Tempah.  The show ends with the inevitable sing-along and such was the rapport that the cast had with the audience that I couldn’t see anybody who wasn’t joining in; it would have taken a real grouchnot to have gone along with the crowd.

Cinderella and Prince Charlemagne carry the main storyline. In panto these moments often flag as the audience anticipates the arrival of another comic scene, but in this production Hannah Wilding and Luke Kempner keep the momentum of the romantic plot going with good comic timing and help from Tommy Coleman’s strong Dandini.

The genre of pantomime requires the director to tread a fine line between polished amateurism and over-produced glitz, and this show not only treads the line but dances along it with glee.  The director Kieron Smith keeps a tight reign on the performers, making sure the pace is fast and snappy, always leaving the audience wanting slightly more.  The choreography is never too ambitious, but always witty and attractive.  Mention should be made of the talented, hardworking and young group of singers and dancers that form the dance ensemble.   Constantly energetic, this small group manages to punch well above its weight, creating the sense that there are many more performers than there actually are.  This becomes a great strength as they confidently join in with the fun that the leads are having on stage.

The design of the show makes the most of the warmth that can be created in Greenwich Theatre, a proscenium arch, richly painted in gold and apricot colours, brings the actors as close to the audience as possible and makes the most of the stage’s thrust, allowing transformations to be effected through the revolving sets.  The show achieves a huge amount with limited resources, so much can be achieved with a couple of mirror balls and a whiff of smoke; there’s something really attractive about a show that relies on the strength of the performers rather than the ‘wow’ of theatrical wizardry.

To be frank I wasn’t expecting to enjoy the show as much as I did, and I think that applied to most of the audience.   Several hundred audience members got more than their money’s worth and, if you haven’t booked your seat, do so now.  The show has already extended its run by 10 days to accommodate record ticket sales.

Greenwich Theatre booking information

‘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.

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.

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.

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