The Cripple of Inishmaan

by Martin McDonagh; dir Craig Shelton
Criterion Theatre, Earlsdon, Coventry
12 – 19 May 2012

On the surface, The Cripple of Inishmaan tells the story of young Cripple Billy and his doomed attempt to ‘make it’ in Hollywood. That would be an unfair summation of the play however: we only once leave the small village that Billy grew up in, most of the story is told through the other characters of the village, and the Hollywood story doesn’t matter very much at all. But we do empathise with Billy and his struggle to escape the forlorn pigeon-hole he has been placed in. In a scene just before his departure, he asks BabbyBobby to call him just Billy instead of Cripple Billy, much to the Bobby’s confusion.

The play has a certain similarity to Dylan Thomas’ ‘Under Milk Wood’ in that the richness comes from observation of the peculiar characters in the village and their interactions with each other. Most of this is done to great comic effect, although there is pain and tragedy there too – an addition that makes the people more real than a non-stop gag-fest would do. Martin McDonagh has written an excellent play here.

And it was presented and performed well too. The opening scene, with Kate (Debra Relton-Elves) and Eileen (Annie Gay) in their village shop delightfully set the tone and it would be a cold person indeed who did not find much to laugh at in that scene. Here we first hear of Billy’s habit of staring at cows – a recurring theme. Elliot Relton-Williams handled the part of Billy excellently, allowing us to feel and root for him in the way we must if the play is to be successful, and the consistency with which he played his crippled leg and arm is fantastic in one so young. Jon Elves also impressed as grim and ultimately violent Bobby and Peter Gillam as the doctor calmly maintained his serious demeanour despite such things as explaining to Billy that his mother was ugly enough to frighten a pig. For me though, the best of a good bunch were Pete Bagley as JohnnyPateen, the town gossip (or news reporter as he’d have it) and Annie Woodward as the mother he is trying to kill with drink (with her full cooperation) – and what a great pairing they made.

Not quite as polished as it could be though; despite a mostly good performance as young Bartley, with his fascination for telescopes and sweets, Sam Taylor seemed to have concentrated on getting the Irish accent right at the expense of his diction. As such, the second scene was very difficult to understand and took some wind out of the sails – it didn’t help that much of the conversation was about sweets with unfamiliar names. Lucy Hayton as his egg-throwing sister had similarly problems at times. This improved as time went on and either they relaxed more or we became more acclimatised – or because sweets didn’t feature as much.

Overall an excellent night out.

Present Laughter

by Noel Coward; dir Dixie Atkins
Priory Theatre, Kenilworth
2 – 12 May 2012

Present Laughter is one of Noel Coward’s most popular plays and its main character, Gary Essendine, an actor with a melodramatic temperament, was said by the author to be a parody of himself.

As such, the performance of James King in that role was somewhat disappointing. Coward’s comedy characters tend to be more stereotypes than realistic and I had expected some flamboyance, campness, near-swoons – fitting the lines spoken. Instead I found a peculiar gruffness, almost as though the ‘maleness’ of the character should never be uncertain. On the positive side, James did put some effort into the spoilt behaviour and near-tantrums that are also a part of Gary’s character, but without the core being right it wasn’t enough. I focus on this point simple because this is one of those plays dominated by the central character and if that is not done right, it’s very hard to make the play work whatever the rest of the cast does.

At the other end of the scale, Mike Brooks’ performance as uber-fan Roland Maule was perhaps a little too over-the-top in comparison; it served to remind us that the balance was out somewhere. With a stronger performer of Gary, Roland may have fitted better.

Lest we drown in negativity, I should mention some positive points. For me, those who had got their parts down to a tee were Juliet Grundy as Gary’s all-knowing wife, Liz, Rebecca Gardner-Tildesley who opened the show marvellously as the jittery Daphne, and Coralie Hammond as the brusque and always-smoking housekeeper, Miss Erikson.

Altogether a bit pedestrian and unbalanced – with some better moments when the right people were on stage.

Dancing at Lughnasa

by Brian Friel; dirAnn Brooks
Talisman Theatre, Kenilworth
23 – 28 April 2012

Dancing at Lughnasa (pron. Loonasa) is a touching story of Irish country life in the 1930s that alternates between narration and action. The narration is conducted by Michael as a grown man reminiscing about the small house in which he lived with his mother and four aunts. The rest of the time the action takes place on the set – a representation of that house. In these scenes, the seven-year-old Michael’s presence is mimed by the others and his words are spoken by the adult Michael from his position at the side.

The five sisters have a poor but contented lifestyle, and during the story this is interrupted by two men. One is old Uncle Jack, returned from many years of being a missionary in Uganda and finding it hard to adapt to life back at home. The other is Michael’s lively but unreliable father, Gerry, who occasionally visits, proposes to Michael’s mother, makes various promises and then departs to pursue his latest scheme for money or glory.

The overall feel is of the warmth that memory can bring as it glosses over hardships, and a longing a lost past. The five sisters act as an ensemble with varying degrees of success, but are overall adequate and occasionally excellent. The two sisters who stood out were Sarah Campbell as eldest sister Kate, convincingly carrying their world on her shoulders at times, and Emily Tuff as the irrepressible Maggie. Andrew Bayliss played Michael skilfully, but I felt that his style was a little harsh and jarred somewhat with the warmth of the scenes, which were after all meant to be his memories.

But the story would not move along without the two visitors. Gerry was reasonably well played by Tom Garner, who had charisma and energy but lacked some naturalism. Jack was played by experienced hand John Fenner and it showed. His fond memories of his time in Uganda and the tribal gatherings and rituals he took part in were really captivating and delivered with a pleasant innocence, oblivious to the scandalising effect this was having on the Catholic sensibilities of the sisters, particularly Kate.

A pleasant evening out, but with a little more polish it could have been a must-see.

Piaf

by Pam Gems; dir Chris Gilbey-Smith
Loft Theatre, Leamington Spa
4 – 14 April 2012

Piaf is a semi-musical play about the life of legendary French singer Edith Piaf, from her ‘discovery’ busking on the streets of Paris to her death. Most, but not all, of the musical aspect is provided by Piaf (Hannah Farquharson) singing her songs (or parts of them) as a performance within a performance.

Technically this was a very impressive show. The minimalist set was attractive and well designed, and combined with the excellent lighting, allowed for a great deal of versatility. Which leads on to another very good aspect: no worries about long drawn-out scene changes in this one or even the pauses of blackouts. The scenes basically overlapped such that as one was reaching its end, the next would be starting on a different part of the stage, the actors bringing on and taking off any props or piece of furniture as required. Very smooth and impressive – something other directors could take note of.

It was a commanding performance by Hannah Farquharson; like Piaf she is small but has a belter of a voice and was clearly relishing this very demanding role which rarely saw her leave the stage but quite frequently saw her step across it from one scene into the next. All the other parts were played by a capable ensemble with varying degrees of success. Esther Dunn as Piaf’s best friend Toine did particularly well.

So, all the makings of a top-notch show then. Except that, from about half-way through the second act it all started to feel a bit samey. This may be down to it needing cutting or a change of pace at some point, but I also think there were two hurdles to do with the script itself that weren’t quite overcome. Firstly, as a biopic it didn’t have the same kind of build to a crescendo that a good fictional piece would have, and secondly it is very easy to get tired of Piaf as a character by the end. What was endearing youthful exuberance and seizing of opportunities by a street-hardened waif, turns into irritating self-interest by the older woman. Probably a fair reflection of what it was like to know Piaf, but it doesn’t make for the best theatre.

All in all though, an interesting experience.

Thoroughly Modern Millie

by Richard Morris, Dick Scanlan & Jeanine Tesori; dir Stephen Duckham
Leamington & Warwick Musical Society @ Royal Spa Centre, Leamington Spa
27  – 31 March 2012

The Leamington & Warwick Musical Society used to be called the Leamington & Warwick Operatic Society, and the name-change a few years back was in recognition of the fact that the company had long since broadened its repertoire to include more varied fare. In fact, it’s quite a while now since the LWMS produced anything resembling an opera, and over the past few years their programme of standard Broadway musicals has on occasion been spiced up by the addition of more upbeat, even daring, titles such as The Full Monty, Summer Holiday and Jesus Christ Superstar; for next year they’ve announced Mel Brooks’ irreverent crowd-pleaser, The Producers. So: an amateur musical society not afraid of a challenge.

Thoroughly Modern Millie certainly presents a challenge, and it’s one that the company almost manages to rise to. As tends to happen with the traditional musical societies nowadays, the resident chorus is augmented by a handful of imported principals; and it’s the latter who generally come off best, with Sue Randall outstanding as the title character, Millie Dillmount, the Kansas girl turned New York flapper who gets mixed up in a plot to sell orphaned girls into white slavery, managed by the evil Mrs Meers (Wendy Morris displaying exemplary comic timing). Newcomers Imogen Parker, as Dorothy Brown, and David Kilgour, as Trevor Graydon, both give confident performances; and Millie’s love interest Jimmy is a triumph for LWMS regular Sam Henshaw, who grows in assurance with every show in which he appears.

On the down side, Tabitha Bradburn is woefully miscast as Muzzy van Hossmere, the role played by Carol Channing in the 1967 film; the smaller roles are mostly underplayed; and too many of the chorus seem to find it beyond them to look like they’re actually enjoying themselves while singing and dancing. This is such a shame in what’s supposed to be a feel-good musical; the second half of the show generally works better because the focus is more on the principals, most of whom can act as well as sing.

Director Stephen Duckham provides some nice comic touches – the scene where Millie, Jimmy and Trevor alternately swap seats while figuring out a way to foil Mrs Meers’ plot is a highlight – and the music and choreography generally serve the production well. The set is visually impressive although it appears to have a mind of its own on occasion, which reinforces the general impression of a company working hard while not being fully prepared for performance. Another week’s run and the whole thing would undoubtedly be a lot slicker than it is.

Overall, though, a fun night out with some strong central performances.

Dead Guilty

by Richard Harris; dir Doreen Belton
Criterion Theatre, Earlsdon, Coventry
24  – 31 March 2012

Billed as a ‘suspense-filled thriller about guilt and obsession’, Dead Guilty failed to deliver other than perhaps on the first word of its title. The description brings an expectation along the lines of Bette Davis’ chilling performance in the 1965 film, The Nanny. In this case, far from being gripped with suspense, the audience repeatedly laughed at what could better have been called Carry On Murdering.

The main problem, I feel,  is that we don’t really care that the victim is going to be murdered; the character of Julia presents us with an unvarying ironic bitterness from the beginning that does not endear her to us in any way, nor does it make us feel that she is slowly falling unwittingly into a trap. On the contrary, we’re glad someone finally gets around to doing her in and shutting up her incessant whining. The youth, Gary, is also played as far too angry and surly – presumably as a poor attempt to disguise who the killer is going to be.

The most believable character is the social worker (Emma Withers) who appears too occasionally to have much effect on the overall feel of the play. As for the murderer (Christine Ingall), a bit better direction could have brought out so much more. The lines are calling out for her to be ever bustling about at this or that and molly-coddling the victim-to-be, yet she spent most of the time just standing about. To be fair, she did liven up more toward the end as her intentions became clear enough for the blind to notice, but it was too little too late.

Back to the drawing board with this one I’m afraid.

The Memory of Water

by Shelagh Stephenson; dir Senga Veasey
Rugby Theatre, Rugby
10 – 17 March 2012

 

Shelagh Stephenson’s 1996 play, about three sisters gathering at their childhood home on the eve of their mother’s funeral and bickering about whose memories of past events are more reliable, has proved a popular choice for amateurs (locally, the Priory, the Loft and the Criterion have already tackled it). It’s not hard to see why. With just six characters, one set and modern dress, it’s easy to stage; four of the roles are juicy parts for women, and it has a cracking script full of witty one-liners but with a strong emotional core. A sure-fire recipe for success, then.

Well, actually no, as this disappointing production proves. To successfully negotiate the constant rapid gear changes from witty wisecracks to tearful soul-searching and back again needs actors at the top of their game, and unfortunately for the most part the cast here are relatively inexperienced and simply not up to the job. Also, in a large (by amateur standards) theatre like Rugby’s where the actors are a long way from the audience, the ability to be heard at the back of the stalls is crucial. Some of the more reflective speeches by Kate Sawyer, as middle sister Mary, are totally inaudible; and elsewhere too many funny lines fall flat because the audience either can’t hear them or are reluctant to laugh for fear of drowning out the next bit.

Sawyer and Helen Ireland, as eldest sister Teresa, each have their moments (particularly the latter’s drunk scene in Act Two), and Elizabeth Young is (somewhat ironically) solid, warm and convincing as the spirit of the women’s mother, Vi, who appears occasionally to Mary to offer her perspective on the disputed past. But of the three siblings it is Soraya Moghadass who is most successful. Her performance as garrulous, needy, drug-addled youngest sister Catherine is spot-on. And I could hear every word.

The two men – Mary’s married boyfriend Mike, played by Malcolm Stewart, and Geraint Davies as Teresa’s husband Frank – are lacklustre and seem uncertain how to pitch their parts. Here, as elsewhere, there was little evidence of the strong direction that might have brought these two into sharper focus.

Rugby Theatre is capable of some very strong work indeed, as last month’s production of Stones in his Pockets demonstrated. By contrast, this was disappointingly mediocre fare.

Jerusalem

by Jez Butterworth; dir Gordon Vallins
Loft Theatre, Leamington Spa
29 February – 10 March 2012

Jerusalem is a modern and topical play full of energy and strong language. At its centre is a tale of a man struggling to be his independent self in the face of ‘progress’ and bureaucracy. That man is Johnny ‘Rooster’ Byron who lives a traveller-type life in an old caravan in Rooster’s Wood. He has attracted a group of young people from the nearby town, who visit him for parties, drugs and as somewhere to hang out, although their actual loyalty is shaky. He also has the enmity of the local council who plan to evict him and cut down the wood to build a new housing estate.

The set is great, showing Johnny’s encampment overshadowed by a very realistic caravan and surrounded by rubbish with paths leading off into the woods; every bit of space has been used well. Then we meet Johnny himself, an incredibly good performance by David Pinner who manages to combine a whole host of very uncivilised traits with a powerful charisma. David dominates the show throughout as he stomps about with his limp and a swagger that sees him submit to no-one and tell some very tall stories; even his tale of meeting and befriending giants is not quite dismissed by his hangers-on.

The story progresses from the serving of the final eviction notice, through a recollection of the previous night’s wild party as various characters emerge from around the set where they have slept it off and visits from various people (the landlord of the last local pub to bar Johnny; his wife and small child who he had promised to take to the fair; an irate local thug looking for his daughter) until the final moments before the police and bulldozers arrive to evict him à la Dale Farm. This final scene itself is a very powerful one, as Johnny, bloodied, beaten and branded from another encounter with the thug, beats on a drum given him by his giant friend and chants a summoning of giants from legend to aid him in his hour of need.

The rest of the cast are all pretty strong too. Even young Oscar Webster as Johnny’s son, Marky, performs well. To mention some in particular is by no means a poor reflection on the rest of the large cast, but I particularly liked Roy Donoghue as the very scary thug; Jeremy Heynes as the scatty but deep Professor, the only old member of Johnny’s group; Katharine Bayley as Marky’s mother; and Joel Cooper as Lee Piper.

Sadly, there are two things that just keep this show from getting five stars. One is the tendency for too much to be delivered straight out to the audience rather than to the other characters on stage, and the other is that the two acts after the interval last much too long. All around me the audience were rustling and fidgeting as limbs and bottoms grew stiff and sore; even though the story was great, some cutting was in order to make it presentable in this format.

Nevertheless a brilliant show.

Blue Remembered Hills

by Dennis Potter; dir Steve Smith
Talisman Theatre, Kenilworth
5 – 10 March 2012

 

Dennis Potter wrote some of the best TV drama of the 20th century. Pennies From Heaven and The Singing Detective linger in the memory as dark, richly humane stories told through the kind of complex, multi-layered, non-linear narrative which rewards close attention.

By contrast, Blue Remembered Hills is a deceptively simple tale with only one narrative gimmick: the seven West Country seven-year-olds are played by adults. As such we can watch them play, squabble, boast, fight, taunt, hide, plot, fantasise and ultimately – it is suggested – begin the inevitable shedding of childhood innocence; all this without the syrupy indulgence we would bestow on the characters if they were played by real children. In the author’s words, the adult body becomes the magnifying glass through which we can more closely identify with the child’s behaviour and emotions. We are forced as a result to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth: children are unbearably cruel to one another.

In this production, director Steve Smith acknowledges the play’s simplicity and humour while skilfully developing the tragic undercurrents. The pacing is good, and Smith makes clever use of recordings of wartime novelty songs to punctuate the action. The children are all recognisable types, and the cast are largely successful at making them distinct individuals while working well together as a company. John Francis as good-hearted Willie is endearingly uncomplicated although he has a frustrating tendency to throw away some of his best lines. Michael Barker as Peter, the bully, hints at a frightened soul under the macho swagger; and Rod Wilkinson as heroic John and Des McCann as thoughtful Raymond also score well (although the latter’s stutter is perhaps not entirely convincing). Plain, resentful Audrey is brought gleefully to life by Chris Ives as she fawns jealously over pretty, selfish Angela, played with wonderful spoilt primness by Julie-Ann Dean. In a generally strong company, though, Pete Gillam impresses most as disturbed, maltreated Donald whose obsession with setting things on fire leads to the play’s tragic denouement. His loneliness and isolation, particularly when taunted by the others as “Donald Duck” and forced, with tearful reluctance, to flap his arms and quack, are heartbreaking.

The set is pleasantly minimalist but could have offered more scope for variety in the playing area. Good use is made of the tree out of which wannabe parachutist Peter drops at the beginning, and the barn segment in which Donald hides, although unavoidably small, effectively creates one corner of the barn, leaving the rest to the imagination; but apart from some good use of the auditorium area, the action is too often constrained by being all on one level. A couple of ramps leading to a raised area or two would have given the opportunity to create more interesting visual compositions and allowed the cast to run up hills, jump off rocks and generally play like country children do instead of constantly milling about on a level floor.

But this is a minor gripe in the face of an intelligent, compassionate production that provides a strong evening’s entertainment with an incredibly moving finale.

Punk Rock

by Simon Stephens; dir Gennie Holmes
Criterion Theatre, Earlsdon, Coventry
23  – 25 February 2012

 

The theatre’s youth group get an airing on the main stage in this play set in among the sixth form of a private school in Stockport and they are to be commended for a bold choice. Amidst the trappings of adolescent love, bullying and exams is a story about boiling over explosively. There is an early indication that it is going to be bullied-boy Chadwick (Ben Lancashire) who this is going to happen to but, although he does ‘turn’, he does so rather eloquently, if bleakly.

Ben played this character well, most notably in respect of taking the time that his lines deserved. Sadly this was not generally true and most of the cast appeared to be in a race to get their lines out as quickly as possible. This not only made comprehension difficult but pulled the rug out somewhat from the build to the explosive climax. Granted the cast are young and inexperienced and may have been a bit nervous, but the director needed to make clear the difference between speed and pace and the effectiveness of pauses.

One of the effects of this is that the later-exploding character William (Pete Meredith), who was and should have been played as quite jumpy and unpredictable, didn’t stand out as such among the others. This is a shame as Pete was particularly good when William ‘flipped’, but much of the shock of this was watered down by the earlier rush.

All of this shouldn’t detract from credit where it is due. This is a clearly a talented bunch of youngsters (plus one adult, Pete Gillam, playing a marvellously calm and understated psychiatrist in the last scene). With a bit more nurturing and development, it bodes well for the coming generation of young Criterion regulars.