Leeds Playhouse
Nov 24th – Jan 27th, 23/24

I have truly just witness’d the art of Operetta almost brought to the fullness of perfection. What a treat! The place was the Leeds Playhouse; the show, Lionel Bart’s Oliver; the time, the first day of Advent, 2023; the result, a massive standing ovation. But before I penetrate the nuts & bolts which created the magnificent technical & symbiotic machinery of the dramaturgical illusion, I’d like to begin with the two thoughts that prosper’d in my mind as I watch’d & joy’d my way thro’ the show.

Firstly, I’m pretty sure now that Oliver is the second best musical, pluck’d from the aether in 1960 via the pen of Lionel Bart, who has been described by Andrew Lloyd Webber as “the father of the modern British musical”. On account of a couple of weak songs by Bart, Webber himself would go on to create the best British musical in the seamlessly excellent, Jesus Christ Superstar.

Secondly, when Charles Dickens wrote Oliver twist in 1838, the British welfare system was barely in it’s proto-infancy, & it’s amazing to see a character like Fagin, basically providing food & shelter for desperate orphans. Alright, they’ve “got to pick a pocket or too”, but at least they were being cared for, if only thro’ functional dysfunctionality. Shame on you Victorian Britain!

…& so to the show. The ensemble forg’d by Leeds Playhouse for their Oliver is a bit like when Brian Clough created the Nottingham Forest team that won the championship & two European Cups in the late 70s – drawn from everywhere & compacted into a 24 carat diamond of quality. The Sowerberry couple, for example, were Scottish & Brummie.

Oliver himself was a wee cuteball of a lad, bristling with a mature magnetic presence; the Artful Dodgy’s cockney accent was astounding; Bill Sykes was genuinely scary; while Nancy ooz’d pure emotions. The cast was really big, actually, but tight as an ant colony foraging for food. Everyone knew what they were doing, like!

Throughout the performance, the Playhouse utilis’d its round-style, multi-platform’d stage to the fullest – there was stuff going on all over the place, but never confusing, always boiling with voluptuous energy. We’re talking recreating busy Dickensian London, ‘ere, so let’s just call their flawless choreography a wonderful helping of highly organis’d chaos. So much fun to do, & watch!

“These sausages are moldy!”
“Shut up & drink yer gin!”

The songs – Consider Yourself was a masterpiece of happiness -, the costumes, the colours, the music, the just about everything was amazing. Other sweet touches included the piano which accompanied some of the songs being a busted up dusty old thing, while nearby a lady sign’d her way thro’ the whole show for the hard of hearing.

Alas, if you notic’d I mention’d at the start that this Oliver had been ‘almost brought to the fullness of perfection.‘ I use the word ‘almost’ because my favorite song, the one that I actually play at parties when I’m a bit giddy & that, is the 1968 film version of ‘Who Will Buy‘. Unfortunately, the Leeds Playhouse cut it in half, just before it gets funky, & inserted some bloody dialogue. I’m like, perch’d on the edge of my seat just about to leap into spontaneous boogieing & everything, going ‘that’s not what’s suppos’d to happen!’

But that was the only criticism, other than that the Leeds Oliver was a most splendiferous occasion, one of which they should be proud of pulling off – it’s quite an ambitious project -, & an occasion which the whole of Leeds & West Yorkshire should avail itself of – this is not one to miss.

Damian Beeson Bullen

Finborough Theatre
London
September, 2023

A courageous and provocative piece, playwright T. C. Murray wrote Birthright in 1910 for the Irish repertory company, Abbey Theatre Dublin. Causing a storm, this was Murray’s debut and it hit the zeitgeist garnering ructions and acclaim across the Irish isles and beyond to the West End and Broadway. The Finborough Theatre proves its much celebrated status with another compelling contribution to fringe theatre.

This new staging, the first in over 90 years in Britain, sees Director Scott Hurran bringing this intense domestic drama to its fullest expression. Set in Cork, we witness a family in crisis at the most intense and acrimonious point in its history. The scenes roll together smoothly with the passions burgeoning to a thundering conclusion. The set, costumes and overall atmospherics create a highly evocative and immersive experience. The lighting starts off bright then gets darker as the family descends into the abyss. The increasing use of candlelight as the play elapses, makes the characters seem like ghosts with their transparencies emerging from the ensuing dramatic exposition.

Patriarch, Bat Morrissey (Pádraig Lynch) commands the stage, infusing the play with ribald energy and undergirding the pathos with his slow-boiling rage. It’s one of the most intimidating and statured performances I’ve seen in recent times and to be so close in that intimate space was breathtaking. The only downside, his tremendous vocal power is unbalanced with the rest of the cast and mismatched to the smaller space – a sense of proportion vocally would make his performance more accessible. Maura Morrisey (Rosie Armstrong), impressively stoic in her role as the long-suffering house wife, is the doting mother of the ill-favoured older son, Hugh Morrissey (Thomas Fitzgerald). The favoured son, Shane Morrissey (Peter Broderick), seeks to provide a balance to his father’s wrath through filial connection yet finds it must ultimately give way to his sense of duty. All actors found their place in the interconnection and with superb Irish accents and deep commitment to the work, this group are weaving a rich tapestry for audiences to enjoy.

I was thoroughly overwhelmed by the play which felt like a time capsule artistically – dropping us to a moment when theatre was done differently. I noticed I was looking for more of a psycho-therapeutic exploration of the characters’ inner worlds, although I recognise that to be a style only established in the second half of the 20th Century when theatre became more mimetic and non-diagetic. With this type of theatre, we have to do the work to hear and delve and render the world of the play given the psychological “nudity” we’re so used to in contemporary theatre is not the modus operandi here.

Much would have been understood by early 20th Century audiences about the cultural contexts of the story but fast-forward over one hundred years and I, a child of the 90s, am used to having more laid out for me in the writing. Nonetheless, it’s a noble cause to revitalise a piece of theatrical history and be sophisticated enough to execute the archaeology of the artform to the extent that a modern audience can find new meaning. The ensemble and production team have achieved this with aplomb and should be commended for this audacious and intelligent rendering. It was an explosive, transportative, fly on the wall snapshot of rural life in early 1900s Ireland. I felt the cold, the adversity and the corresponding warmth of the familial hearth, over-heating as fate scored the family with its inescapable summing.

Stuart Bruce

Book Tickets

theSpace @ Venue45
Edinburgh Fringe, 2023

Hinc Illae Lacrimae

Intimacy – is it about pleasure, compassion, love – all of the above? This new two-hander by Sarah Nelson, staged by Watershed Productions, raises complex questions about where and how people seek intimacy and their different needs for physical pleasure and emotional connection.

Chloe (Caitlin O’Ryan) is interviewing Nel (Imogen Greenwood) for her masters thesis and the questions pertain to her sexual history and values. It’s highly personal but Nel is an empowered character and confident in her sexuality. There is overwhelming judgment from Chloe, it seems, so Nel stridently defends herself and together they unpack their respective interpretations of sexual culture.

This play lays everything out where, despite Nel’s assertiveness, Chloe also divulges highly private experiences and their connection deepens. Both characters agree with the discrimination and unequal power dynamics that women are subjected to on a daily basis but each have distinctly different journeys to arrive at their individual sexual cultures.

This presents a contrast that celebrates difference, but also allows a dramatic tension to develop, where conflict is understandable and relatable, without anyone being correct or incorrect per se. It’s interpretive and honest and, in this process, the audience are challenged to negotiate an ethical map without necessarily being sure where the footholds are.

There were some strong elements to the writing but much that rang as unnatural and expositional to me – although I was wondering whether that might have been the actors being distracted because there was an infant/baby making significant noise throughout the play (which was being filmed too, poor guys). For the first half, the listening wasn’t particularly strong which meant the behaviour was self-generated and a little artificial. It felt like only at the end of the play, was the contact between the actors deep enough to make me believe they were naturally interacting and I wonder whether they would have been strong the whole way through if it wasn’t for the distraction.

I did enjoy how the play crescendoed as the pressure-cooker built. A strong twist and strong emotional catharsis arrive in the second half and the characters must find new levels of compassion to be able to process their situation. The characters end up learning that intimacy isn’t just about knowing your partners but also knowing yourself and finding compassion for others.

Stuart Bruce

Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose
Edinburgh Fringe, 2023

Ex Pede Herculem

Despite his most famous reputation, the biography of William Shakespeare is scanty short on details. A signature here, an obscure anecdote there, it is down to a metemimesial study of the plays & poems themselves to tell us more about the man. The rest, by the way, is just made up, or we might use Tudor-Stuart materielle yet extant to flesh out the meager skeleton of Shakespeare that we have. Create a whole dinosaur from a single tooth, kinda vibe.

& so to Upstart, by Mary Jane Schaefer. First things first, what an absolutely adorable set, one’s receptacle mind is instantly plung’d into that in which Shakespeare plied his pen & trade. The costumes & back-drops are beautiful, & when wedded to Tudor songs & a dialogue fully-form’d of Elizabethean & Jacobean phraseology, the suspension of disbelief is exceptional.

The play consists of two elements. The first of these, & how the play begins, is the elder Judith reminiscing on her famous father. Immediately one is struck by the quality & authenticity of the language which Schaefer has put on the lips of Judith. I mean hearing phrases such as ‘‘twill serve’ – I love that sh!t. The second element of this play is an imagin’d account of Judith’s younger self & her interactions with her famous father – including classic Shakespearean motifs, well Commeddia dell’arte really, of cross-dressing disguises

‘His muse was a trollop who’d ran off with lesser men‘

A major figure in this reworking was a lady of color from London who of course would have been the Dark Lady of Shakespeare’s sonnets. There’s a great seen when Anne, Shakespeare’s wife, is reading the sonnets c.1609 v- in fact gossipy Stratford villagers are leaving copies outside her house showing her husband not only loved the handsome youth but also the Dark Lady & her wiry hair. Classic stuff, altho’ of course the real Dark Lady was in fact the Turkish noble woman who frees William Stanley from his blasphemical incarceration in Istanbul. Well, that’s what I think anyway!

Yes, an absolute darling of a piece is this – all the performers are adorable to watch & I would advise anyone with a hint of a love for Shakespeare to see this – he really is brought back to life with eloquence & energy better than any cinematic attempt. The humanity of the great brooding poet is on show for all to see. My only gripe was how politely handl’d, or skiff’d over, was the ‘second best bed’ offering by Shakespeare to his wife in his will. This was a perfect chance to kick a nail out of his coffin & hammeringly ram it into Anne’s heart – it was far too nice an ending, but why not anyway?

Damo

C Aurora
Aug 27 (18:20)

Exceptio Probat Regulum

The ‘Holy Trinity,’ let’s say, of Christianity, is form’d by the Gospel accounts of Jesus, the teachings of St Paul, & the lives & martyrologies of the later saints. Among the latter group, the Confessions of St Augustine, completed about 400 AD, is one of the key texts for the encouragement of conversion to Christianity, of how to step from the dirging slurge of a sinful life into a virtuous blissdom of bright & shining rightness.

A massive best-seller, let’s say, in previous millennia, by 2023 the Confessions are being sidelined, somewhat, from mainstream culture. I don’t think I would have pick’d it up to read myself, but seeing Stephan Callaghan‘s one man version of the play yesterday has fill’d that gap, broadening my gnosis in the process.

The play begins with me realising why the play is call’d Oggie Oggie! Oggie – of course, it is short for Augustine, & all of a sudden we are whipp’d to Maryhill or summat in Glasgow listening to Augustine‘s mis-spent youth metamorph’d into a dodgy, beer-swilling Weegie. I mean, it is brilliantly play’d, but a strange start because it’s not too long afterwards that all trappings of modern Glasgow are lost & we are spirited into the 4th century times of Saint Augustine & his tale. 

As a performer, Sephen is flawless, & energetic, & his powerful, clear voice projects so well – he really is quite commanding of our attention. The production is also top class – great music, great lighting, great vibes. There are also some lovely audience interactions, rare in theater, but which really do work. Oggie! Oggie Oggie! Is ultimately a highly entertaining biopic, in which Augstine is brought back to life by the dramatic skills of Callaghan. A superb treat!

Damo

theSpace @ Surgeons Hall
Aug 26 (16:05)

Fabas Indulcet Fames

As a man who spent the first half of his life in the analogue era, & the second in the digital, I remain resolute & steadfast in my decision NOT to find someone via the internet to go out with on a date. Where’s the magic in that – no, my poetical spirit just finds the whole thing icky. Saying that, a lot of people have gone on to find meaningful & lasting relationships via the internet, two of which, altho’ obviously dramatical creations, are Wendy & Liam, a couple of Irish emotional misfits whose journey thro’ the seven spheres of love-falling is play’d out with a reyt sense of humor, like – I laugh’d harder & deeper during the Bad Daters than I I had even the best comedians I have seen thus far at the Fringe.

‘I’m bored out my tits – say something interesting or I’m out of here‘ – Wendy

Of our two characters, the star of the show is Wendy (Sarah Maria Lafferty) & her brooding underlooks, mainly because the man she meets, Liam (Brian Gallagher) plays rather a subdued-of-soul fella, a gentle foil to Wendy’s tempest. She comes across as a coarse-chopping, anxiety-boiling cauldron of entertainment that shouldn’t be in the dating game, but is driven by the primal need for the perpetuation of the species which drives us all into a need for a mate. Let the thawing of the Ice Queen ensue!

Other elements to this play include, of course, Derek Murphy’s incredibly canny writing, he is reyt on the pulse, like, but I also lov’d all the physical nuances the actors brought to the play, such as the one time Wendy look’d happy about spending time with Liam while speaking to her sister (I think) on the phone – a smile that Liam would never see, hidden as it was by her turbulent soul. Yes, The Bad Daters, this flaw’d & fluttering humming of harden’d hearts, is a pure paean to the awkwardness of love-matching, & is a proper bangin‘ treat!

Damo

Underbelly Circus Hub
Aug 25-26 (18:20)

Every Fringe I will always try & visit the Underbelly’s takeover of the meadows, just because they simply do bring us the very best in cutting edge circus. This year it was Peep Show, & what a truly magnificent spectacle it was! An acrobatically astounding series of stunts & stands, all escorted to rhythmic perfection by the deep & booming industrial beats of a DJ.

Sexy, erotic, quirky, quixotic, I really enjoy’d the constantly flowing, constantly evolving aesthetics of the show,it was all a bit like circus cubism, so tangl’d & twisting were the shapes elongating before our eyes. A swizzing, whizzing, fizzing phrenzie of ever-fluid, gasp-inducing & glorious performances of very clever stuff, it was a wonder. Loudly exclaim’d phrases like, ‘that was amazing,’ ‘that is actually insane’ & ‘that is so fucking cool, man,’ were constantly flicking off my tongue!

I’m definitely hetrosexual, like, & I’m not even ‘in denial’ or whatever, but to see the gladiatorial physiques of magnificent men combin’d with the deftest grace of the most delicate dancers was a real treat. I’m not gonna start composing a load of homoerotic sonnets, or anything, but boy are those boys beautiful!

Alongside them, of course, were the women, completing the yin & yang of nature in perfection. In all my times reviewing circussy stuff these ten years, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a scintillatingly cohesive union of parts – I mean, the tiniest dip in performance levels & the whole thing comes crashing down, perhaps with leg-breaking, career-ending results. It’s like playing Russian roulette with your limbs – & yer neck!

Watching Peep Show does make you realise we Humans are capable of reaching well beyond the capabilities we think we possess. I’m about to treble the size of my epic poem I’ve already spent twenty years on – that’s what I do. But these guys at peep Show are also approaching the upper slopes of Parnassus where the acrobatic avatar of Terpsichore is preparing a reyt funky aftershow party for this young, supercool & phenomenally talented troupe.

Damo

Assembly Rooms, Front Room
Aug 25-27 (15:30)

Qui Desiderat Pacem Preparet Bellum

At its core, The Rosenberg/Strange Fruit Project is a diasporic tour of an America that created & envelop’d the bitter episode that was the trial execution of Julius & Ethel Rosenberg, accus’d of giving atomic secrets to the Russians. Creating for us the frantic & society icing it’s way into the Cold War are two performers; the orator, award-winning actor/playwright John Jiler, & the clarinetist Sweet Lee Odom, who accompanies the words, along with occasional American life-sounds pip’d into the background for extra effect.

The play is essentially a monologue of disparate characters, unified by the desperate tragedy of the youngest son of the Rosenbergs, Robert, orphan’d by paranoid anti-communist McCarthyism & a heavily flaw’d prosecution. After this twist of the knife, came the twist of life which saw the Robert adopted by the man who wrote the song Strange Fruit, seared into public consciousness by Billie Holiday. Among all the scenes, the most moving was when Robert was visiting his mother in prison, with her maternal instinct playing down the best she could the fact that she & his father would soon be fried electrically at Sing-Sing. Poor thing.

The Rosenberg/Strange Fruit Project is heavily Americanised – Shylo, Bull Run, Ike leaving his balls in Normandy, Du Bois, etc.. Multiple references from Stateside history that over ninety nine percent of the Brits cannot relate to. However, at the end of this curious play, the whole room rose & ovated their hearts out with pure off-broadway adulation – perhaps they were mainly American, who knows? Alas, I didn’t quite share the praise-giving, let alone the prize-giving which my role as a reviewer entails.

Saying that, many, many nice touches abounded; subtle costume changes, mysterious jazz sounds cleverly caressing us into the story, & some top notch delivery from Jiler, all fashion a very pleasant spectacle – but I was never gripp’d theatrically. It felt more like non-fiction, rather than a play, however well it was perform’d. I think with such a complex story, more actors are vital – that was my instinct – because, altho Jiler is excellent, it was difficult to suspend one’s disbelief thro the rapidity of character changes. I think, if I wasn’t also trying to assimlate the American cultural references, it might have been easier, but it is a lot to take in otherwise.

Damo

Symposim Hall
Aug 22,24,26 (19:15)

Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi

The dramaturgical work of Nia Williams was my gateway drug to my, in recent years, growing appreciation of Gilbert & Sullivan. I have accepted the inevitable & will now readily admit, I am a fan – & there’s nowt wrong wi’ that. I mean, her plays are not light opera at all, but the influence is definitely there.

Nia’s creation of Dexter is an ambitious project – I’d seen her Verity before, but we now see Verity’s fiance in a fantastically clever spin-off play all of his own. They are to be married, y’see, & while Verity (Jenna Elliot) is fussing & worrying over every tiny detail of the approaching nuptials, Dexter (Chris Jonstone) is fussing & worrying himself sick as to how he’s going to pay for it all now he’s lost his job.

Thro a world by pepper’d by bathbombs & peanut brittle, the play ticks over at an excellent pace, with our leading two being accompanied by an excellent supporting cast. The dialogue is snappy, inherently human & all the songs are great – I love the dissonant two-voice, three–voice, all-voice harmonies which pour from Nia’s mind to dance around the enchanting note-conjuring of her dancing fingers. The music is provided solely by Nia’s keyboard-piano, but the general effect is a sound much more than the sum of it’s spider-dancing index parts.

The story works its way out against the backdrop of the company of fraudsters to which Dexter had gravitated to in his desperate need for money. Along the way we meet other members of this workforce, who have their own sub-plots, while Verity’s supporting role, altho’ lacking the character depth of her own play, is still a pleasant watch & excellent listen.

My favorite moment was at the Hen Party, when from my angle at the far left corner of the room, all the ladies appear’d like Queen in the video Bohemian Rhapsody, rendering yet another of Nia’s superb multi-vocal’d, interweaving cantata. All-in-all, Dexter is a very modern play, perform’d with precision, & is, I think, an improvement on Verity, tho’ it’s been a while since I saw it. Nia is definitely onto something, here & I hope we get a third installment to complete the possible trilogy!

Damo

Pleasance Courtyard
Aug 22-28 (21:10)

Whow, Whow, Whow. Edinburgh Fringe sees the return of the magnificent seven ‘Showstoppers’ and their Jazzy Blues band. At 9.10pm every night until August the 28th, Something for the Weekend unleash their explosive and highly popular show Showstopper: The Improvised Musical. Like sardines caught up in a trawler’s net, the audience were wriggling with anticipation as the compere lit up the stage with his humour and wit. Scanning the audience like a barcoded steak going through a supermarket, the hunt was on for some subject material for tonight’s proceedings.

Hurling suggestions from all corners of the auditorium, the crowd was soon whipped up into a frenzy. With more ideas than Donald Trump has citations, they finally decided on a Supermarket or to be more precise a Big Tesco’s Supermarket, as their backdrop to this evening shenanigans. So how does Tesco become a musical? Well, we were about to find out. A single word can manifest into a single concept and the results with Showstopper can be miraculous.

Heading down aisle 7, the fruits of their labours were about to change their lives. Love, heartache, relationships, cheating and nearly every other human feeling was brutally attacked with improvised perfection. Thinking on your feet is a must-have skill for your average employee, but this cast are just genius. Like a stick of dynamite blowing up an unwanted tower block, Showstoppers explodes into an inferno of hilarious jokes and gags, leaving the now well-oiled audience in stitches of laughter. With Showstoppers there is no stopping. Sketch after sketch, this show picks up speed like a runaway train and has no intention of stopping at any stations, unless it has a Tesco, a Big Tesco.

This a remarkable show that brings much welcom’d consequences for a now exhilarated audience. Songs that incorporated Lidls, Waitrose, glasses of Presco and insecurities were gulped up in an instant by the hand clapping and cheering punters. Fruit can be bruised if touched too heavily but no other show at the Edinburgh Fringe can touch Showstoppers, certainly no bruising here.

This piece of comedy & musical theatre is straight shooting, straight talking, dirty, funny, honest and delivered with professional venom. Life isn’t a barcode or a trial, its everyday living, and Showstoppers The Musical reminds you to Live your Life. If all the cast members were Dart Players then they would be hitting a Bullseye every time. If its fun your looking for then this is the show for you – Pure excellence !!

Raymond Speedie