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Yvonne Arnaud Theatre Exclusive 2007 Reviews

“TESS OF THE d’URBERVILLES”

This adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s first novel successfully captures the powerful feudal environment of the late 1800s. Director Adam Forde has skilfully deployed his 36 young actors from the Yvonne Arnaud Youth Theatre to give us a many layered telling of the story  of Tess, a self respecting “cottage lass” who unwittingly falls victim to the local  Lord of the Manor.

Adam has made great use of the country music of the time , with young girls singing in the hayfields; and a splendid chorus in the style of Greek theatre in attendance throughout.  They also narrated events from time to time. The cast had obviously benefited from arduous rehearsal. The great advantage these aspiring actors have is that they profit from professional direction which involves the extreme discipline of the theatre.  Many are serious students who go on to train at the big drama schools.

Adeline Waby as Tess gives a poignant performance, particularly in her scene with Alec d’Urberville (Will Dunglinson) who is determined to seduce her and who she finally murders.  One’s heart goes out to her in her duo with Angel Clare (Oliver Trimble) where she confesses about her past to her newly wed husband. His instant rejection of her is acutely painful. There is a brooding atmosphere throughout the play, and one becomes aware of the underlying poverty by most of the characters being portrayed. There is one scene where Tess hides her only pair of boot; but they are duly stolen causing much distress.

“Tess of the d’Urbervilles” is mainly an ensemble piece. The music takes one straight back to the turn of the 19th century and is cleverly sung, with some really beautiful voices adding much to the overall charm. I congratulate Adam Forde for having drawn out talents in these young people which they probably never realised they possessed. I wish him well.

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“DANCING QUEEN”

This high octane, all singing, all dancing show highlights songs of the 70s in a scenario where the Swedish pop music group, “ABBA”, are dominant.

Following a successful run in the West End David King, the Executive Producer, has launched “Dancing Queen” on the road where (now) middle-aged fans can come out of the woodwork and enjoy a delicious trip down Memory Lane. One of the chief characteristics of David King’s shows is their fast flowing presentation. Remember “Spirit of the Dance”?   Well, “Dancing Queen” moves along at the same pace, one scene effortlessly melting into another.

The ensemble of dancing is immaculate. The mind boggles at the powerhouse of energy they generate for one-and-a-half hours non-stop, with only the interval for respite. There is one number, “In the Navy”, when the whole chorus line breaks into a fantastic tap routine; a genre of dancing not hitherto included in the show.

The four performers who play the Scandinavian quartet certainly give the impression of close cohesion that, I remember, was the feeling given by the original group. The costumes and lighting plot are extravagant: we’re even treated to a fan dance at one point! There were some clever psychedelic prints among the outfits the dancers wore as well as many sightings of the ubiquitous white boots that were so fashionable at the time.

At any one time twenty of David King’s productions are playing worldwide which must use up a great many of our most talented dancers. Although the singing is fine enough it is the explosive quality of the dancers which carries one along.  Their confidence and their ability to move in perfect unison is a joy to behold. If you want to stop the world and get off for a while go to the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre and let “Dancing Queen” wash over you with its warmth, colour and optimism.

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“FAUSTUS”

The play, “Doctor Faustus”, was the brainchild of the Elizabethann playwright Christopher Marlowe. In this he tackles the vast scheme of pitting good against evil. In a new version by Robert Gould and Ben Power we have the original story where Faustus sells his soul to the Devil in return for everlasting life; and a parallel present-day scenario whereby modern artists are forsaking the beauty and figurative glory of art for seemingly mindless vandalism of our heritage.

Mephistopheles has taken command of creativity and turned it to his own means: a source of corruption in the modern world. Furthermore, the two Chapman brother artists, Jake and Dinos, in the play really do exist in today’s art world scene. “Faustus”, therefore, is a cri de coeur against the ugliness and vainglory of the smug elite who claim to see great value and meaning in modern art. Jake and Dinos are taking great pleasure in shocking their public by, for instance, defacing prints of Goya’s work in the true tradition of imposing obscenity on everything they touch.

Rocky Marshall and Tam Mutu as the brothers give powerful performances and are totally credible in their disdain for our great heritage of fine art. Helena (Claire Lamb), a camera woman employed by BBC 4 represents the good deed in the naughty world. Having seen her brother brutally murdered and dismembered by members of The Taliban she is revolted by the actions of the brothers who exploit such atrocities with glee.

Throughout the play we have interludes where Faustus haunts the scene and Mephistopheles dominates him in a genial and horribly evil manner. Obviously, the adaptors feel strongly that modern art is a huge confidence trick played upon a public who do not wish to be seen as ignoramuses. The audience must make up its own mind, of course. But I think it is great news that this subject is getting such a positive airing.

Jason Baughan makes a beguiling Mephistopheles.  Small of stature his Puck-like exterior masks an aura of absolute evil. Michael Colgan as Faustus is convincing; and Gus Brown as the BBC presenter, Foster, gives a droll performance. Andrew Bridgemont works hard at playing three parts very successfully. A play to make you sit up and think!

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"Romantic Comedy"

I have been trying to analyse why Bernard Slade’s “Romantic Comedy” does not have the cracking sparkle or compulsive cohesion of, say, Neil Simon’s “The Last of the Red Hot Lovers” in which Tom Conti also starred. True, there is great wit but these nuggets have to be waited for amid a sea of dialogue.

Moreover, in my humble opinion, this play could have profited from quite a few cuts in order to keep it swinging along at the fast pace so needed for this type of work. Having got that off my mind, however, there is still much left to enjoy.  Tom Conti plays Jason Carmichael, a writer with the sly drollery of which he is master. He has some very good lines such as: “I married Grace Kelly but she has turned into Margaret Thatcher”, whereupon his stage wife rushes in and seizes her handbag from the sofa.

Kate Atkinson, as an inspiring playwright named Phoebe Craddock, strikes exactly the correct note between appealing naivety and worldly wisdom.  She slowly changes to become the successful, soignée creator of Broadway hits. Kate Atkinson is a welcome addition to British theatre. Having trained in Western Australia she brings a refreshing new talent to tread our boards. Another, very creditable, performance comes from Eleanor David as Blanche Dailey, a wacky general factotum in Jason Carmichael’s household who weaves in and out of the story adding delightful levity and oddball vignettes.

“Romantic Comedy” covers a period of 12 years during which all in the story undergo change: all, that is, except Jason who realises that during this time he has really been in love with Phoebe!  They both gaily abandon their spouses and, I suppose, live happily ever after. This conclusion could have been arrived at with judicious cuts three-quarters-of-an-hour earlier, making the whole of the play tighter and more contained.

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Visiting Mr. Green at Guildford’s Yvonne Arnaud Theatre

Jeff Baron’s “Visiting Mr. Green” has been performed in no less than 37 countries.  Not bad for a first play by an unknown writer. One’s heart inevitably sinks a little, though, on learning that it is to be a two hander.  In this case, however, the interplay between the two characters is so enthralling that to introduce anyone else would be an unnecessary intrusion, to say the least.

The set presents us with a seedy-looking apartment in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, New York. Warren Mitchell as the eponymous Mr Green, a frail, eighty-two-year-old, sits wrapped in doleful self pity having completely lost his savour for life.  Into this baleful scenario comes Ross Gardiner, an energetic Harvard graduate, played by David Sturzaker, who is eager to help the old man in any way he can.  A judge has ruled that, because Ross was involved in nearly running over Mr. Green in his car, he should visit him weekly and try to improve his quality of life.

The play is divided into slots with each one representing a consecutive weekly visit. To begin with Mr Green totally rejects Ross.  His cantankerous demeanour does not daunt the visitor who, in spite of constantly being told to leave, doggedly starts to tidy up the neglected apartment. Painstakingly, he finds out that Mr. Green, being an orthodox Jew, eats only kosher food. Next time he comes he brings some chicken soup which the old boy grudgingly drinks comparing it unfavourably with soup made in the past by his wife, Etta.

Slowly, the backgrounds of these two very disparate persons emerge. Ross discloses after a few weeks that he himself is a Jew. Whereupon Mr. Green perks up miraculously, pinching Ross’ cheeks as if he were a ten-year-old and becoming fully prepared to receive him as a friend.

“Prejudice” is in reality the theme of this play. Mr. Green resents deeply the prejudice shown against the Jewish people, Ross drops a bombshell, however, when he confesses that he is a homosexual. Mr. Green finds this utterly impossible for him to accept.  Ross makes the point, however, that prejudice is dished out in equal measure to his corner of society; and what could have driven them further apart serves to cement the relationship in a most unexpected way.  Ross continues probing into Mr, Green’s past and finds he has a daughter, Rachel, who married a Gentile prompting the old man to sever connections with her.

Yes! You’ve guessed it!  The final curtain comes down with Mr. Green waiting with outstretched arms to embrace his long lost daughter who is knocking on his door. It only remains for me to say that you’d have to go a very long way before you’d find two more stunning performances than those in “Visiting Mr. Green”.

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"Northanger Abbey"

“The Importance of Being Earnest”

It must be daunting for a theatre director to put on a play that a large part of the audience will already have seen on stage, read or experienced as a film. There are so many famous lines in Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” which many people associate with certain well-known actors such as Edith Evans. It is important, however, to keep the great classic pieces going because new generations are coming along to whom the impact will be the same as when older people saw them.

I took my 18-year-old granddaughter to see this production of Wilde’s masterpiece. She is a serious-minded drama student and was bowled over by this sparkling work – so rich in sophisticated humour. One has come to expect high quality staging from The Theatre Royal, Bath; and this offering from them doesn’t let you down. In fact, it matches up well with the glittering season of plays that the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre has so far presented this autumn.

Penelope Keith gives us her formidable Lady Bracknell. I saw her in this part a few years ago and at the time thought her good.  But this portrayal has far more depth to it. She is really thinking Lady Bracknell’s thoughts and projecting them to her fellow actors as well as, indeed, to the audience. Wilde cleverly slips into her dialogue that she was penniless when she married Lord Bracknell, which explains why she is such a thumping snob.

Director Peter Gill moves the play along at a spanking pace; and the elaborate sets by William Dudley brought gasps of admiration from the audience. Harry Hadden-Paton and William Ellis provide a scintillating duo as John Worthing J P and Algernon Moncrieff; while Daisy Haggard portrays the Hon., Gwendolen Fairfax, Lady Bracknell’s daughter, and Rebecca Night the winsome young Cecily Cardew, John Worthing’s ward, both making a pleasant contrast to each other. Janet Henfrey has contributed to a valuable niche in English theatre for experienced women character actors; and her performance as Miss Prism, the governess, hits the nail bang on the head.

Her counterpart, the Rev. Canon Chasuble D.D., as played by Tim Wylton, is hilarious in his mixture of exuberance and modesty. It only remains for me to say that the butler Merriman (Roger Swaine), and footmen George Turvey and Tony Stansfield, make valuable contributions with discreet but memorable performances.

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"By Jeeves"

If you would like to have huge fun and merry japes I urge you to try and get a ticket for “By Jeeves” at the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre. It is a rare piece of entertainment. Andrew Lloyd Webber and Alan Ayckbourn collaborated to write this delicious adaptation of P.G.Wodehouse’s book, believe it or not, as long ago as 1974.

The antics of Bertie Wooster, the engaging chinless wonder of England in the 30s, made their author one of the highest paid writers in the world. We do not nowadays see the phenomenon of the upper class young man who has spent his childhood being nurtured by “nanny” only to be cosseted through his manhood by a trusted “gentleman’s gentleman”.

Director Chris Jordan has honed this production to perfection. Robin Armstrong gives a mesmerising performance as Bertie Wooster. His body seemed to be made of rubber and, as he danced and clowned around, his legs did astonishing things as if they lived a life of their own.  He struck just the right note of insouciant charm as he was swept along by circumstances not of his making.

Jeffrey Holland makes a perfect Jeeves, restrained yet worldly wise; and Stephen Carlile matches up to the “silly ass” persona of Harold “Stinker” Pinker, performing some nifty dance routines with Bertie. There’s a hilarious and enjoyable cameo performance by Laura Checkley playing Honoria Glossop, one of the gay young things. Unbelievably hearty and swashbuckling, her facial expressions changing almost every second, she epitomises the Jodhpur wearing, back slapping female of the 30s.

Another very funny sequence involves Nicolas Colicus portraying the American, Cyrus Budge III (Jumior), who seizes Bertie’s outstretched hand in greeting and practically cripples him for life.  They have a priceless conversation about jelly. The American strongly avows that the word “jelly” means “jam”. What we term “jelly”, he maintains, is called “jello” in the USA.

The cast are matchless in their different ways; and the music is a perfect reflection of the tuneful ditties of the period. I found it difficult to relate this to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s later work. Alan Ayckbourn injects his indigenous wit into the dialogue and lyrics. “By Jeeves” comes together as an unforgettable evening of non-stop merriment.

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"Our Man in Havana"

What a multi-talented chap is Clive Francis – writer, actor, cartoonist and general twinkly person. He has adapted Graham Greene’s classic novel into a stage performance of infinite hilarity and inventiveness, playing no less than eight roles himself.   You never know when he will next pop up! He is not, however, the only one to play several parts as all the four main characters portray more than one person.  Believe it or not Hywel Morgan, who stepped into Russell Boulter’s shoes at the last minute, plays ten different parts! It was an amazing feat and made for a seamless production.

We are transported to Cuba in the 1950s where spies and counter spies are being recruited to spy – yes – on one another! At the same time they claim outrageous expenses while living the life of Riley. Wormold (Simon Shepherd) the hapless vacuum cleaner salesman is signed up by Hawthorne (Clive Francis) to become a secret agent under British control. Already deeply in debt, with his daughter badgering him for treats, he accepts the offer and is plunged into an exciting and lucrative undercover existence.      Simon Shepherd, as well as portraying Wormold, acts as the Narrator thus making sure we don’t miss out on Graham Greene’s magnificent prose. Kelly Adams also helps narrate and plays Wormold’s 16-year-old daughter, Milly. She gives good performances, too, portraying a prostitute, a stripper, a Secret Service secretary. an air hostess and mistress to Cuban businessman, Sanchez. This actress, who many will remember from her fine performances in BBC TV’s “Holby City”, shows what versatility she possesses while bringing along great verve and understanding of the style of the production.

As for Clive Francis, he also narrates and plays seven parts, to boot! His sensational agility and habit of breaking into a few steps of the “light fantastic” certainly spices up the dialogue and, together with his fellow actors, keeps the show going at a spanking pace.

Hywel Morgan is greatly to be commended for his triumph in taking on so many roles at short notice. I find it hard to imagine them being done any better. I am also sure that this rollicking production of “Our Man in Havana” will be well received wherever it goes.

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We have come to expect a staggeringly high standard of musical theatre from the nearby Guildford School of Acting Conservatoire (G.S.A.); and this year’s graduate show at the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre does not disappoint. These G.S.A. boys and girls get snapped up by producers to feed the ever-growing demand for this type of entertainment. The graduates leave the Conservatoire with confidence and ability to take on quite responsible roles in the profession.

The music of Marvin Hamlisch’s “A Chorus Line” has become entrenched in the canon of catchy “songs from the shows”; and most people will recognise refrains such as “I Can Do That” and “At The Ballet”, not to speak of the hauntingly rhythmic themes to accompany some of he dance routines.

“A Chorus Line” is unusual in that no scenery whatsoever is involved. The focus is totally upon a group of wannabe dancers whose fates we follow right from their selection – or deselection – to their final achievement in performing on Broadway. We are swept along by their anxieties, their elations and their crises of confidence. They are a disparate lot, combining as they do the very tall and the very short, the sassy and the introvert, the very young and the somewhat mature.  It all takes a great blend of talents to make this show work. The G.S.A. graduates certainly provide this blend in abundance.

The singing is of a high order. I wish I could single out individual performances but there were two casts and I had no way of discovering which one it was that I was watching. This school gives wonderful training in diction and voice production with the result that the choruses were clear, with soloists coping very well.

The paramount skill of this musical, however, is in the dance routines. Choreographer Phyllida Crowley-Smith gives us some exciting sequences. During the last Act the company has to keep dancing for about 10 or 15 minutes while a dramatic scene is being acted out at the front of the stage. The dancers move in perfect precision like a well oiled machine. Maintaining this harmony of movement for so long a period is a great achievement. The dancers may become exhausted, but they never flag.

I should think we must lead the world in performing musical theatre. We should be very proud to have this fine Conservatoire in our midst.

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As the years go by I am constantly astonished by the consummate skills and huge talent displayed by the Yvonne Arnaud Youth Theatre. The young people involved in this enterprise have the supreme advantage of being trained by highly qualified members of the theatrical profession. Moreover, they’ve been attending workshops - some of them for many years – to develop movement and voice production.

Oscar Wilde’s “The Happy Prince” adapted by David Perkins and Caroline Dooley provides the perfect showcase for these hardworking an inspired youths.

The story lends itself beautifully to being told as a musical. David Perkins is a seasoned composer of works of this genre; and his eight-piece orchestra greatly enhances the mood of the production. The choruses are rousing and melodious; while the set designed by Sharon Davey (also made by Youth Theatre members) could be out of a gloriously illustrated children’s book. The lighting design by Dan Last is very clever, especially when the statue of The Happy Prince turns from gold to white.

Jack Sunderland, who plays the part of the Swallow, gives a heartrending performance. His dancing ability and cheeky demeanour make his death at the end excruciatingly poignant. In the ensemble pieces all give of their very best. You could pick out any child at any time in any scene and they would be animated and totally absorbed. The dance routines, and there are many of them, are immaculate: especially one where the school teacher (Katie Williams) leads her recalcitrant pupils in a complicated and very amusing frolic. Kate Burgess as the little Match Girl performs a charming cameo, singing plaintively and winning the audience’s hearts with her understanding of the part.

There were 50 young people involved in the cast alone without counting the huge technical team, which comprised another 50 at least. All sorts of ancillary sources of help have been enlisted.  For example, when a special effect was achieved by myriad gold fragments falling from the sky – an enchanting sight - none other than the 1st Farncombe Cub Scouts assisted with the drop.  I gather that each fragment had been snipped by the backstage team!    

If you want to come out of the theatre with that warm, happy sort of feeling that says “don’t worry, everything’s going to turn out all right” then I strongly recommend you get along to the YA Theatre. The last performance is on Saturday 30th June at 7.00 pm.

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“Little Women”

When Louisa May Alcott finished writing her seminal novel, “Little Women”, she did not think much of it.  She preferred her other, more dramatic, stories. After having read through again this homely tale, however, she felt it was not “… a bit sensational, but simple and true, for we really lived most of it: and if it succeeds that will be the reason of it”. Succeed it certainly did, becoming one of the most constantly enjoyed books to emerge from North America in late Victorian days.

Set during the bitter times of the Civil War we see a family of four girls and their mother struggling to make ends meet and to provide support for each other while the father is away at the War. Alcott uses her own childhood experiences as a base for this heart-warming tale.

Ali Gorton who directed and designed the show as well as adapting it for the stage gives us a convincing set representing a New England clapboard dwelling, simply furnished with another elevated set that serves as the more elegant home of Mr Laurence and his grandson, Laurie. Mr Laurence is played by William Maxwell who gives a deeply convincing performance as the austere, scholarly neighbour who slowly melts into being a lovable benefactor to the little family.  Lynette McMorrough as the girls’ mother, Marmee, radiates warmth and endeavours to be strong in spite of threatening to break down at low points. Interestingly Emily McMorrough, Lynette’s daughter in real life, plays Hannah the maid as an Irish immigrant and makes the most of this small part. The ebullient daughters render faithful representations of those in the book.

Meg March, the eldest, mature yet vulnerable, is played by a tall blonde in the person of Saskia Fischer. Jo (Zara Dawson), the tomboy, headstrong and gifted as a writer is, of course, based on Louisa M. Alcott herself. She has a violent scene where she attacks Amy her younger sister for burning one of her manuscripts. Chloe Lang revels in this part of playing the self opinionated Amy especially when she rather importantly decides to read out her Will to Mr Laurence asking him to look after it for safekeeping. She must have been all of ten years old! Clare Harlow as Beth March infuses the part with gentle sweetness and is based on the character of Alcott’s sister of the same name who died young.

“Little Women” has about it some kind of authenticity that makes it almost a documentary. The united endeavour and sense of duty that runs through the play makes a strong contrast to dramas of today.

Oliver Naylor as Laurie Laurence, the boy next door, convinces us of all that is decent and honourable in a young man of the day; while his tutor, Mr Brooke (Martin Clark) woos the sweet Meg with delicate ardour.

“Bedroom Farce”

“Dangerous Corner”

J.B.Priestley loved experimenting with plays involving aspects of time. In “Dangerous Corner” he gives us two greatly differing accounts of a dinner party taking place in an upper middle class drawing-room in the 1930s.

A leisurely conversation ensues as seven people, wearing the obligatory black tie and flowing evening gowns of the period, relax after the meal. It is difficult to imagine how any drama can develop from this situation until a tiny episode triggers off momentous revelations and the diners plunge into bitter conflict. The tiny episode occurs when Gordon Whitehouse, one of the diners played by James Cawood, attempts to find some dance music on the wireless. He is told to leave it alone, this he does which sparks off the mayhem I’ve referred to above.

In another version of this on stage Gordon does successfully finds some dance music on the wireless and the group spend a happy evening dancing to the melodic tunes of that period.

Georgina Sutton plays the hostess Freda Caplan and cleverly portrays the seemingly conventional wife of the irascible Robert (Tony O’Callaghan). She is forced to confess an infatuation for her husband’s dead brother and is astonished to learn that that same brother was the object of obsessive affection by one of the male guests at the dinner party. Subsequent revelations emerge and it becomes apparent that everybody in the room has something to hide. This can of worms contains a thief, a drug addict, a crazed homosexual and what could be interpreted as a murderer.

The pressure builds up in a most satisfactory way. Priestley is a master at storytelling and, considering the play was written in 1932, quite ahead of his time.

Visually I found “Dangerous Corner” very pleasing. The girls’ wigs, for instance, evoke powerfully the fashion of the day. Chloe Newsome as the pretty young thing Betty wears a glorious platinum blonde wig cunningly coaxed into a “Marcel” wave. Designer Carole Shaw has come up with some beautiful, simple evening dresses that could easily have come straight out of Vogue of that period.

Peter Amory as Charles Stanton the duplicitous business partner who has shamelessly dipped his fingers in the till comes across powerfully in his cad-like justification of his evil ways. Each player enjoys their moments of revelation from Olwen Peel (Nicola Wheeler) who claims she accidentally shot Robert’s brother to Gordon who admits in front of his wife that he had an affair with the dead man. Emotions run high and Robert is quite frighteningly explosive when he learns that his wife Freda had lost any vestige of love she once had for him.

Who knows? If Gordon had not been told to switch off the wireless none of this chaos would have resulted; and we would have been cheated out of an absorbing play!

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“PETE & DUD COME AGAIN”

Those of you who have vivid memories of Peter Cook and Dudley Moore will be suitably impressed by the performances of Gareth Tunley and Simon Lowe who give us a juicy slice of their brilliant comedy sketches along with an in-depth study of their long-term relationship.

Simon Lowe has a fairly strong resemblance to Dud. His diminutive stature and facial features help in this. The main quality, though, which resurrected Dud was the spirit breathed into him by the actor impersonating him. Dud’s innate sweet nature and doubling sense of humour is there from the very start. The way he screwed up his face, for instance, while his eyes slide round bring the much-loved comedian zinging back to mind. His musical talents, too, are given full attention. Throughout Dud plays the piano brilliantly and as far as I could see nobody could make out whether it was Simon actually who was the pianist. There is nothing in the programme to give the game away. Anyway, it was a monumental achievement.

Gareth Tunley as Pete also had the correct stature for the part. He portrayed the lofty airiness of Dud’s other half and spoke convincingly with the mock Cockney accent that Pete affected. Writers Chris Bartlett and Nick Awde have cleverly captured the essence of the relationship between the two. We see with growing dismay the ascendant alcoholism in Pete and the corresponding bullying of Dud. Pete even gatecrashes an exclusive TV interview Dud is having with Tony Ferguson (Alexander Kirk). While Dud is enjoying mega success in Hollywood Pete is steadily going downhill. The adorable way that Dud puts up with humiliation such as when he shows exasperation in extreme situations, in particular when Pete walks off stage in the middle of a sketch, serves to show his generous spirit.

In her book “Peter Cook” his ex-wife Wendy writes about happier times when they lived in resplendent Church Row in Hampstead. Dud would come round to join Pete at the top of the house from where screams of laughter emanated as the two created their sketches.

It’s always very difficult to recreate the past but Director Owen Lewis has teased out of the players an arresting integrity, which I was not expecting.

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“THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES”

It is interesting to know that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s chilling detective story, “The Hound of the Baskervilles”, was actually written after he had “killed off” Sherlock Holmes in a previous novel.

“I think I will slay Holmes and kill him off forever,” Doyle wrote to his mother in 1893. In The Strand magazine of that year he had Holmes and Professor Moriarty engage in a monumental struggle on the edge of the Reichenbach Falls where Holmes plunges to his death. The reaction among his faithful followers was dramatic. Thousands of subscriptions to The Strand were cancelled; and some people even wore black armbands! Seven years passed and finally, for purely financial reasons, Doyle was compelled to resurrect Sherlock Holmes and pretend that this episode had happened before the detective had died. In the event, the resulting work “The Hound of the Baskervilles” became one of his best-known stories.

Doyle’s popular novel is very difficult to adapt for the stage involving as it does many changes of scene and special effects. In this production we saw a very clever innovation whereby the plot was enabled to move swiftly on without a lot of laborious changing of sets. Imagine a huge open book taking up the whole of the stage. Every now and then the text in that book fades and scenery or interiors appear projected onto the blank pages. These scenes are by no means inanimate. There are, for example, scudding grey clouds tearing across the sky and, in the final instance, a most realistic hound appears complete with characteristic blazing eyes. Timothy Bird, as set and projection designer, must take a large amount of the credit for this show. His careful blend of reality and animation serves the play magnificently. Gregory Clarke, as sound designer, adds an eerie creepiness with wolf-like howls and a clever sound effect of billiard balls clicking in a mimed game of snooker.

Of course, everyone wanted to see what Peter Egan made of the leading role of Sherlock Holmes. Imprinted on our minds is the interpretation by the late Jeremy Brett. To my mind, though, Peter Egan has certainly captured the essence of the great detective. We have his analytical remoteness, his bullying qualities and his smugness in always considering himself to be in the right. Apart from this, though, he adds a certain eloquence of gesture and flamboyance of movement that serves to colour his portrayal without detracting from it.

Philip Franks’ Doctor Watson is beautifully cast. He looks the epitome of good nature and exudes a comfortable bonhomie, which contrasts strongly with Holmes’ personality of detachment. It’s always a difficult part to play, being overshadowed by Holmes. But Philip Franks makes it stand-alone. Credit must go to Hattie Ladbury, Andrew Harrison and Rupert Mason who play a multiplicity of parts to great effect.

Fans of Conan Doyle will not be disappointed in this production, believe me.

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Old Times Review

Although Harold Pinter wrote “Old Times” in the 70s it could have been written yesterday and will, no doubt, go on intriguing and enthralling audiences for generations to come.
We have a classic Pinter scenario: viz. three people, all emotionally involved with each other. The whole is wrapped around by a miasma of menace.

Kate (Janie Dee) and Deeley (Neil Pearson) in their farmhouse by the sea are having one of Pinter’s famously realistic, seemingly idle, conversations. There are many pregnant pauses and repeated exclamations as we are drawn into the slowly dropping pace of Pinterland. Kate is lying languidly on a day-bed and Deeley is quizzing her about her long lost friend, Anna (Susannah Harker), who is about to arrive. When she does appear the whole tone and colour of the scene changes abruptly.
Elegantly voluptuous, Anna dominates events from then on. With her magnificently sinuous movements and aloof poise she indicates her controlling role in her past friendship with Kate. She stirs up turgid ripples in the quiet pool of Deeley and Kate’s relationship. Her background is cleverly evoked, giving us a vivid picture of her life spent in Sicily.
“Do you have marble floors?” asks Kate.
“Oh, yes” Anna replies.

Anna is a fully rounded character with a past, present and a future, slightly mysterious and mesmerising. Whereas Deeley and Kate have a satisfying symbiotic relationship involving one partner who adores while the other loves to be adored. Kate becomes a pawn to be subtly fought over. There is a very clever way of showing Deeley and Kate’s attraction to each other. They sing old songs of the 30s; not in unison but with each picking up from the other with snatches of melody. This works as a delicate bonding of the two.
“Old Times” has been given the Rolls-Royce of Directors in the person of Sir Peter Hall. The combination of his extraordinary talent and the three highly intelligent actors gives us an experience on the same level as listening to the most exquisite chamber music.

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Blonde Bombshells of 1943

In need of a tonic after the long grey winter months? I prescribe a visit to the Yvonne Arnaud Theatre where you’ll find your spirits soaring aloft as you give yourself up to the gloriously played hit tunes of 1943. You’ll also be enjoying a play that will jerk your tears of laughter and of pathos.

In “Blonde Bombshells of 1943” playwright Alan Plater has captured to perfection the whacky northern repartee between the members of the supposedly all girl band.

Every time they play at an American airbase they lose a few musicians to the GIs. Recruitment is essential and their leader Betty (Alison Harding) has advertised for more female musicians. Liz, a schoolgirl in her uniform, turns up with a clarinet for an audition followed by Lily (Georgina Field), a nun in full regalia: a frothy upper class ATS who lets it be known that she is free with her favours: and finally Patrick (Oliver Chopping), a young man trying to evade conscription.

Betty grabs them all eagerly and plunges them into frantic rehearsals for a gig she has arranged in Hull at very short notice. What is more, the show is to be broadcast by the BBC! The dialogue is interspersed with dazzling musical interludes. The nun, the schoolgirl and the socialite ATS girl are formed into a close harmony trio while the rest of the band give of their all on double bass, clarinet, saxophone, drums and piano. Stingingly powerful tunes – some fifteen in all – drill into the memory, arousing nostalgic, long buried dreams.

What is it about wartime songs that makes them stick in your memory? They don’t necessarily have to be about the war. For instance, take Leslie Sarony’s “I Lift Up My Finger…” – it brought the house down! And Flanagan & Allen’s “Home Town” conjured up visions of the two comedians dressed in old fur coats and straw boaters strolling across the stage singing in unison, giving rise to schmaltzy feelings of goodwill all round.

There was great excitement in Act II, which was given over to the actual performance. There they all were, in red sequin dresses and big blonde wigs – including Patrick - playing as if their lives depended on it. Everybody’s talents were made use of, even Lily’s. The nun’s hilarious performance of a George Formby song to the banjo was incorporated in all this.

Throughout the show there was an exuberance and a feeling of high spirits – one only lived for a day at a time. This was exactly how people survived during WWII.

Mark Babych obviously loves this play; and he has directed it with huge knowledge and understanding of the period. Barbara Hockaday distinguishes herself in her portrayal of Grace, a superlative musician, as well as helping with the musical staging.

I just can’t get over how all these actor/musicians can pick up an instrument at the drop of a hat and play just like professionals. Definitely a “must see”.

At Guildford’s Yvonne Arnaud Theatre until Saturday 10 March – Box Office 01483 440000

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Kindertransport

When a production by the renowned company "Shared Experience" comes to town it is always well attended. When I saw it the theatre was certainly full to bursting as young people with no residual memory of the last war and older people who remember it only too well flocked to see Diane Samuel's play "Kindertransport". Director Polly Teale is a past master at creating presentations with more than one dimension.

So, we are taken effortlessly forward and back in time without having to wonder where we are.
All through the 30s as the German persecution of Jews gathered momentum Jewish families sent their children to England, believing they were saving their lives as the dark shadow of what was to become The Holocaust lapped about them.

Eva, a 9-year-old played by Matti Houghton, leaves her mother to travel with hundreds of other boys and girls by train and boat to England where she is placed in the care of kind Lil Miller (Eileen O'Brien). Lil is painted as a very vivid character. - cosy but not prepared to put up with any nonsense, speaking as she does with a strong streak of north country directness. She rears Eva as her own child, changing her name to Evelyn; and the two form a powerful mother/daughter relationship.

The parallel story that intersperses these events treats with Evelyn as a mature woman (Marion Bailey) with a daughter of her own called Faith, portrayed by Lily Bevan. Faith comes across some papers in the attic and challenges her mother to tell her about her background. Evelyn refuses to divulge the painful events of her early life including the fact that the real mother actually came to England after the war was over to be reunited with her daughter. But she was rejected by Evelyn who harboured strong feelings of abandonment.

Throughout the play an uneasy atmosphere of menace is created, partly by the background music but mainly by the monstrous looming figure of Ratcatcher (Alexi Kaye Campbell). It is clever that one is never in any doubt that Ratcatcher exists only in the minds of the characters. He is, nonetheless, a terrifying, nightmarish creature representing the gnawing anxiety and haunting overtones of The Holocaust that infuse this play with a strong feeling of the wartime period.

Designer Jonathan Fensom has meticulously researched the costumes Eva’s little tweed coat and little-girl dress, complete with demure white collar, are spot on for the period and contrast starkly with Faith’s skinny jeans and tight jersey. Helga (Pandora Colin) as Eva’s birth mother is like a fashion plate from the popular magazine, The Lady. As you would expect from “Shared Experience” the individual performances are immaculate, serving to send the audience out having really shared their experience.

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Signpost to Murder

Everyone loves a good thriller, especially one that is so cunningly constructed that the audience doesn’t stand a chance of discovering “who done it?” Monte Doyle has certainly achieved this with his “Signpost to Murder”.

Set in the 1960s this psychological crime story shows us Roy Collier, played by Peter Amory, a patient in a lunatic asylum protesting his innocence against an accusation of murder. He is not believed by the asylum’s Principal, Dr. Alan Forrest (Tony O’Callaghan). Nevertheless, he escapes and invades a nearby house where he keeps a woman, Sally Thomas, from handing him in by judiciously brandishing a gun at her. Nicola Wheeler as Sally gives a well-judged performance, convincing us of her frailty yet making us suspicious of a steely underlying quality apparent in her speech and behaviour. Peter Amory is very frightening as the escaped prisoner; and one can well believe that he is capable of murder. This gruesome part is finely enacted, with plenty of light and shade and overtones of schizoid delusion.

Robert Banks, who plays Reg Cartwright, a psychiatric nurse, brings verisimilitude to a character that exudes authority. I see from the programme notes that he was a policeman before he took up acting and so possesses genuine knowledge of the stance and demeanour of someone in complete control.

The handsome set, representing the interior of a fine old house, displays certain touches which leave no doubt that the action on stage is not of the present day. When one of the characters, for instance, finds he has blood on his hand there is no worry hat it might be from the murder victim. No such thing as DNA in those days!

Inspector Bickford is realistically portrayed by Tony Scannell in that he listens a lot but says very little, as most detectives do. There is a fantastically unexpected twist at the end which causes all the events that preceded it to fall into place. The author plays fair with us. But I defy anyone to work out “who done it? at the final count.

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FRENCH WITHOUT TEARS

Many years have passed since Terence Rattigan’s comedy French Without Tears first appeared on the London stage. The year was 1936 and the play ran for two-and-a-half years as well as being revived many rimes over. After WWII the content of plays changed to a darker note. We had John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger, Sheila Delaney’s A Taste of Honey, Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot and Harold Pinter’s The Birthday Party – all bearing overtones of misery and not confining themselves to writing about the middle classes.

The wheel has now turned full circle and a new generation is content to sit back and bask in the wit, hilarity and happy endings of gifted playwrights like Rattigan.

Before WWII it was customary for young people to be sent to live for a while in an intensive tutorial group in France or Germany. This helped them to master the language and to pass essential examinations. Hence we are presented with the home of Monsieur Maingot who rules his group of students with a rod of iron, never letting them utter a single word not in French, their efforts to comply are hilarious. The translation, for instance, of: ”She is above her station” becomes: “Elle est au-dessus de sa gare”. With five young men and only two girls thrown together in a romantic setting on the west coast of France attachments are inevitable and the whole situation becomes incredibly complicated.

Diana Lake (Jenna Harrison) is extremely alluring in her jaunty nautical cap, brief shorts and sun cap. She confidently waves a magic wand over her several suitors making each believe he is the only one she loves. In the end, they gang up on her and she gets her come-uppance. Hannah Yelland as M.Maingot’s daughter, Jacqueline, is a complete contrast to the bold Diana and her gentle nature strongly attracts Kit Neilan, one of the students played by Ben Lambert.

Adam James plays a Lieut. Commander RN who has been drafted to the course to help enhance his career. He really smacks of naval discipline with every move he makes. When, for instance, in one very funny scene, the male students fling themselves into a fight, his fitness becomes most apparent. Terrence Hardiman as Mons. Maingot, encapsulates the archetypal Frenchman: beard, pince-nex, nattily dressed, especially when he chooses to sport full Highland rig for the Carnival of Flowers! It was a hugely enjoyable merry romp.

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KING OF HEARTS

Satire as it appears in drama, cartoons and even fine art is supposed to be a sign of a healthy nation. The more vicious it is the greater the impact. Like lancing a boil satire can relieve people of their prejudices and anxieties by exaggerating them hugely, thereby cutting them down to size.

Alistair Beaton, who wrote “King of Hearts”, is a seasoned satirist. You may have seen his recent TV play “The Trial of Tony Blair” which elaborated on the fall from power of our present Prime Minister. In “King of Hearts” we have an imaginary Prime Minister, the leader of the Opposition, a dying King, and two Royal princes, Richard and Arthur. A constitutional crisis arises when Richard, the elder of the two, wants to marry a Muslim girl. The King is not expected to live for more than a few hours; and this means that Great Britain could very soon have a Muslim consort Queen.

Justin Salinger, as Prime Minister Nick, shows us a powerful despot willing to stoop to any sleazy subterfuge, including stealing the mobile phone from the Leader of the Opposition. The part is written so that his dialogue is literally sprinkled with the “F” word that detracts from any dignity he might aspire to. Justin hugely enlarges the character, using stylised gestures and constantly maintaining assertive poses. To my mind, he need not have tried quite so hard. His performance teetered on the edge of farce rather than satirical comedy. All the same, he was very successful in portraying “the man you love to hate”.

Nonetheless, the directors, Max Stafford-Clark and Ramin Gray, have cast the play with a touch of genius. Roddy Maude-Roxby, as the Archbishop of Canterbury, makes it difficult to believe he is not actually an archbishop. His magisterial gait and aura of detached innocence make him an ideal foil to the conniving politicians. When, for instance, he sees one of them looking at shaming sexual images on his mobile phone camera, he enquires genially: “Holiday snapshots?”

Another fine performance comes from Ben Righton playing Prince Richard. A dead ringer for our own Prince William, he exudes the inherent authority that the Royals drink in with mother’s milk. He shows with great poignancy his ardent love for Nasreen (Zahra Ahmadi), the thoroughly westernised Muslim girl; while Christian Brassington convincingly portrays Prince Arthur as a self-indulgent teenager.

“King of Hearts” hangs together well and I liked the finishing touch where, just as in Shakespeare’s plays, the actors are given rhyming couplets to deliver.

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Farce

Farce is, notoriously, the most difficult of the performing arts. It has to be almost choreographed for moves as well as for incredibly fast dialogue.

Ray Cooney, that farceur par excellence, has given us in Funny Money a prime example of his consummate skill. He has observed the great rules of time, space and action thus keeping a continuous flow within the time of the play. Moreover, the characters are played slightly larger than life which heightens the vividness of the whole performance.

When the curtain went up on Act I, I was tickled pink to see several doors included in the set as I knew they were there to be burst open and slammed shut, their keyholes to be glared through and their paintwork to be battered. Such doors are a vital ingredient for a good farce!

As for the plot, it would take me from now until next Christmas to explain the labyrinthine complications that ensue. Suffice it to say that once a few lies have been uttered they miraculously give birth to a hundred or so more, with fraught and hectic consequence.


The cast were mainly seasoned players. I was delighted, though, to see that the leading lady. Harriet Usher, who played Jean Perkins, was trained at our own nearby GSA Conservatoire and had already appeared in Ray Cooney’s Tom, Dick and Harry at the Duke of York theatre in the West End of London. She assimilated perfectly the mode of farce that is so different from straight plays. Aaron Bixley, billed as a Passer By in the programme, is yet another alumni of the GSA.

It is difficult to single out any particular player because all worked seamlessly as a strong team, never missing a beat the more the action on stage became fast and furious.

Playing the lead as Henry Perkins David Callister gallantly steamed his way through surreal happenings, getting his face whacked hard, for instance, by a door that opened unexpectedly. Robert Duncan as the detective Davenport, and Peter Blake his totally bemused friend, Vic Johnson, both reluctantly brought into the fray, are very funny.

Highly amusing, too are John Altman as a police sergeant and Patric Kearns playing a frenetic taxi-driver. Carolyn Lyster as Betty Johnson made a happy contribution to a really hilarious evening’s entertainment.

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If I Were You

Alan Ayckbourn’s imagination ranges wide and free. He is a master at dramatising situations born out of fantastic suppositions. Moreover, his originality of ideas goes completely unchallenged in the field of drama.

His new play, If I Were You, presents the audience with a couple whose lives are drifting aimlessly through the sluggish channels of middle age. Mal, the husband played by Terence Booth, is the consummate male chauvinist pig with a very short fuse, who bolsters his ego with “a bit on the side”. Jill, portrayed by Liza Goddard, is his dispirited wife who has descended into apathy bordering on depression. She stays in her dressing gown until midday and carries out her household tasks like an automaton.

I must digress slightly at this point to tell you that actor John Branwell due to play Mal was taken seriously ill just before the first night. Terence Booth gallantly stepped in and gave a truly astonishing performance. One could easily believe that he had spent months and months getting into the character of the part. From the very moment of his waking up in the morning and spending five minutes or so clearing his throat with a hideous barking sound, he sets the scene as someone with a true grasp of what comedy is all about. He only resorted to occasional glances in Act II at the script, which he held; and this didn’t intrude in the slightest.

Liza Goddard has sacrificed her normal glamour to appear on stage as a mousy, down-at-heel, thoroughly defeated woman. All sparkle banished she slops around in bedroom slippers, given to sporadic bouts of weeping.

Come Act II the couple wake up in the morning transposed into each other’s bodies. Mal is hilariously feminine and caring. His nifty footwork spins him across the stage as he sprays air freshener into the rooms and scrupulously wipes all the surfaces. His wife Jill, finding herself a man, is furious at having to be in a woman’s body with all its protuberances! She chooses an atrociously mismatched outfit to wear and daubs makeup on as if she were plastering a wall.

Unlike some of Ayckbourn’s darker plays, however, this one enjoys a happy ending. Supporting roles are well played as directed by the author himself. Richard Stacey is convincing as the cocky son-in-law Dean Snaith, endeavouring to model himself on Mal, while Saskia Butler as Dean’s wife Chrissie gives us a warm feeling that some people really are naturally good. Dominic Hecht, the teenage son Sam, encapsulates a moroseness, which masks a sensitive, gifted young person. Altogether a memorable evening.

Ann St.Clair-Stannard - Exclusive Yvonne Arnaud Theatre Reviews

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