Slick and Slack

SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS

Birmingham Hippodrome, Monday 23^rd December 2019

 

If you like your pantomimes to come with lashings of glitz, glamour and spectacle, you come to the Hippodrome’s annual extravaganza – and you won’t be disappointed.   This production, originally staged at the London Palladium last Christmas, stints on nothing as it aims to impress.  The key ingredient for a pantomime to work is its cast and here too, we are not sold short.

The show opens with the Magnificent Seven, the dwarfs, who provide the customary exposition in rhyming couplets.  They handle the verse well and have a big impact – it’s a shame then that they disappear from proceedings for quite a while.  And I feel they could be featured more, in comedy routines – they don’t appear to be lacking in talent.

Joe McElderry is the Spirit of the Mirror, a kind of good fairy; he reminds us how great an entertainer he is and, wisely, director Michael Harrison makes good use of him for musical numbers.  McElderry is paired with handsome Prince Harry of Harborne, rising star Jac Yarrow – their voices fit well together, Yarrow’s musical theatre tones blending with McElderry’s pop star vocals.  They are a duo to be reckoned with.  Yarrow is suitably dashing in princely garb but, like many of the characters, has to play the straight man to comic turn ‘Muddles’ a kind of Buttons character, played by the Hippodrome’s resident panto star, Matt Slack.

Slack, returning for his 120^th year – oh, wait, am I confusing it with the theatre’s birthday celebrations? –  has an appreciative fan base in Birmingham, and he has plenty of opportunity to showcase his skills: his impressions, his physicality, his daftness, all of which have an underlying wit and intelligence.  Slack is great at what he does, (although I can find him a little overbearing at times), and his shtick invariably goes down well.  There is nothing slack about his professionalism.

Slack’s brilliance comes at a price.  Consummate pantomime dame Andrew Ryan is underused.  Rather than a comic turn in her own right, his Nanny Annie is a sidekick for Muddles’s shenanigans.  Similarly, delightfully deadpan Doreen Tipton is restricted to being part of the troupe and is not given her moment to shine with a song or a monologue or recitation.

Faye Brooks exudes sweetness as the titular princess.  She sings sweetly too – there is a plot twist that works brilliantly, giving her character more oomph.

But for me the undisputed star of the show is the mighty Lesley Joseph as the wicked Queen Dragonella.  A seasoned pro, Joseph pitches the role perfectly, so we find her villainy delectable and her diva-esque ravings high camp.  She is not above making a laughing-stock of herself and she looks fabulous.  The best panto villain I’ve seen this year.

Everything about the show says quality.  The dancers, the costumes, the beautiful set… Britain’s Got Talent’s urban dance act, Flawless crop up as the palace guards, bringing slick moves and also a sense of humour.  Of course, Matt Slack gets in on the act – and it’s one of the show’s funniest and most impressive moments.

All in all, this slick production is as entertaining as you could wish.  All the right ingredients are there – it’s just that some of them are overpowered by the flavour of others.

Yass, Queen! Lesley Joseph rules as Queen Dragonella (Photo: Paul Coltas)

 

Naked Ambition

CALENDAR GIRLS – The Musical

Birmingham Hippodrome, Tuesday 28^th May, 2019

 

First came the calendar, then the film, then the play, and now this musical version.  Original writer Tim Firth has teamed up with Gary ‘Take That’ Barlow to rehash the true story of a group of women whose charity calendar turned heads and raked in the dosh thirty years ago.

If this piece is anything to go by, the Yorkshire village of Knapley is inhabited by a homogenous bunch of deadpan Northern charmers, the women are almost uniformly blonde and the cuddly men are interchangeable.  It’s a bit Stepford Wives, but funny.  There are so many characters it takes a while to get a handle on who they all are.

When Annie’s husband’s cancer treatment fails to save him from the disease, her mates at the local Women’s Institute rally in support.  Best mate Chris (Rebecca Storm) comes up with the idea of a nude calendar – in the best possible taste, of course – and some of the women require more persuasion than others.  It’s a long time coming but the best scene of the night is the taking of the photographs, posed with some carefully placed props: plates of cakes, balls of knitting, all the accoutrements of the WI.  While other scenes are mildly amusing, the photo-shoot is the highlight and brings the house down.  It’s a moment of rejoicing, as the women celebrate body positivity and have a reet good laugh while they do it.  It’s like The Full Monty without the social commentary or the economic imperative.

Sarah Jane Buckley heads the ensemble as the eventually-widowed Annie, a more staid counterpart to her best mate Ruth.  Single parent Sue Devaney has the best singing voice but the Christmas Carol medley she has to belt out is a let-down: it’s just unfunny.  Lesley Joseph is in her element as retired schoolteacher Jessie, supposedly respectable but game for a laugh when the crunch comes.  Lisa Maxwell is suitably cocksure as the surgically enhanced Celia, and Danny Howker has some very funny moments as inexperienced teenager Danny – it’s a strong cast without exception but all the while I’m thinking they would be better served in the straight play version.

Barlow’s songs are serviceable but hardly memorable.  Rather than adding depth to the piece, what they bring is length.  Firth’s script aspires to but doesn’t quite reach the genius of the late, lamented Victoria Wood, using the bathos of domestic details to bring out the emotions of particular moments.  Contemplating her husband’s death, Annie wonders who’ll take her to Tesco and argue about margarines with her.

The heart-warming story survives this treatment, and is still a crowd-pleaser to be sure, but (producers, take note) not every bloody film needs to be turned into a musical.

The Cast

 

An Absolute Scream

YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN

Garrick Theatre, London, Saturday 28^th October, 2017

 

 

Mel Brooks’s seminal comedy film comes to the West End in this musical adaptation that stitches together the best of the movie with some cracking new material.  Brooks has an ear for a good tune and the score, which he wrote along with the lyrics, is chockful of catchy melodies and sophisticated, witty rhymes.  Brooks’s sense of the inappropriate is also undiminished: a chorus of women sing proudly about their tits, a blind man inflicts pain… Aficionados of the film will not be disappointed and newcomers to the material are in for a wild and wacky treat.

Hadley Fraser stars as Frederick Frankenstein (Fronkensteen) combining good looks with manic intensity, like a matinee idol on crack.  The man is hilarious and has a clear musical-theatre tenor that means he can belt above the chorus.  Like the machinery in his grandfather’s laboratory, we can see the cogs working in Frederick’s mind.  Fraser is expertly matched by Ross Noble as the hunchback Igor.  Noble’s rolling eyes, stooped posture and incessant gurning evoke something of the great Marty Feldman who originated the role, while permitting us to see Noble is a superb comic performer in his own right.  And who knew he could sing so well?

Summer Strallen is effortlessly sublime as Inga, stretching her accent as well as her legs, while Dianne Pilkington is an absolute scream as Frederick’s fiancée Elizabeth.  Everyone is at the top of their game.  There is strong support from Patrick Clancy doubling as Inspector Kemp and the blind hermit; Shuler Hensley’s Monster is the gift that keeps on giving in a towering performance; but the revelation of the piece is Lesley Joseph’s Frau Blucher, surely the role she was born to play.

She has her knockers but I think Lesley Joseph is great

Highlights?  The show is one big highlight from start to finish.  Putting on the Ritz turns into an all-out production number with the chorus hoofing in Frankenstein boots, brilliantly lit by Ben Cracknell, bringing Hollywood glamour to his palette of old movie spotlights and colour washes.  Beowulf Boritt’s set uses traditional painted backcloths that heighten the theatricality of the piece while hearkening back to the old movie sets.  The atmosphere is perfect.  Director/choreographer Susan Stroman doesn’t miss a trick to bring out every laugh, every campy turn of phrase or reaction, giving us what is quite possibly the funniest musical ever.

The breast jokes betray the show’s 1970s origins but Brooks is right to keep them in – the master of comedy, he knows how to give us a frisson.  There would be something wrong if we approved of everything and this is how Brooks tests us, pushing at our comfort levels, showing us where our boundaries are and, above all, making us laugh out loud and long.

A great big monster hit.

Hay there! Hadley Fraser and Ross Noble

 

 

Robinson Squashed

ROBINSON CRUSOE & THE CARIBBEAN PIRATES

Birmingham Hippodrome, Tuesday 18^th December, 2012

 

If you were on the quiz show Pointless and asked to list traditional pantomimes, I’d wager that Robinson Crusoe would not spring immediately to mind, but here it is.  It was in fact refined and panto-ised by the king of pantomime scripts, the late great John Morley many, many moons ago, bringing in elements of Dick Whittington (the shipwreck) and Aladdin (the baddie needs something from the hero in order to reach some hidden treasure).  This latest mutation emphasises the pirates Morley introduced, no doubt to cash in on a recent popular film franchise.  It deffo ain’t Defoe.

None of this matters with this production.  The story is incidental, amounting to nothing more than some loosely linked scenes.  If you try to follow what’s going on, you lose the plot very quickly.  This production is all about its big star, Brian Conley, an irrepressible force of showbiz who appropriates pantomime as a showcase for his talents.  He appears as the eponymous Crusoe, acknowledging from the start in a hilarious video sequence the similarities to the Buttons he gave us in this venue last year.  His crooning is interrupted by a tumble off-stage into the pit – This is this year’s fad, evidently.  Conley is a very watchable, amusing entertainer and no expense has been spared, it seems, to support his shtick.  Corny jokes are amplified by specially-made props, and there are some theatrical effects (Conley is shrunk in a magician’s cabinet, and carried in a cage by a gorilla) that are delightful.

He is matched in stage presence by Lesley Joseph in the good fairy role, the Enchantress of the Sea.  When they appear together, it is clear they are enjoying themselves immensely.  Joseph brings the right amount of camp diva to proceedings.

Audience participation is taken to a new level.  Conley wheels on a TV camera and turns it on the crowd.  Suddenly punters’ faces are projected large on a screen.  He singles out a man to insult.  It made me squirm in a relieved-it’s-not-me way and reminded me of a show I saw earlier this year that consisted of little more than this kind of abuse.  Later a woman is brought on stage to join in with a dance number – you guessed it, Gangnam Style, this year’s Japanese knotweed of a song.   It’s good-natured cheekiness rather than any aim to offend – that is how Conley operates.  I didn’t like a couple of throwaway lines that are out of place in a show like this. More palatable is the moment when Conley interacts with children, for the sing-along number, confirming him as an all-round popular entertainer, quick-witted and energetic.

Gavin Woods impresses as the villain of the piece, battling to stay in character as Blackheart the pirate in the face of Conley’s comic capers.  It seems that most of the plot development falls to him; his gloating monologues keep us in touch with what the hell is going on.  Kathryn Rooney as love interest Polly earns her money just by getting half-eaten apple spat on her face every performance.

As ever, the Hippodrome delivers spectacle and wonder on the grandest scale in the country.  There is a scary sea monster and, inexplicably, a flying car.  The set pieces and production numbers dazzle with an extravagance you don’t see in other pantomimes and Conley is correct to acknowledge the hard work of the Hippodrome crew in setting up and running a show of this magnitude.

It struck me that no matter the spectacle, it is the snot and fart jokes and the traditional pantomime routines and patter that work the best.  The prime example of this is Andrew Ryan as the dame, Mrs Crusoe.  Here we have a seasoned and skilled performer who works every line and every bit of business, the perfect complement to Conley’s anarchy.

I think anarchy is the key word.  The show is organised chaos.  Without a familiar plot to keep us anchored in events (compared to that most tightly-plotted of pantos, Cinderella, for example) we don’t know what might happen next but it certainly is great fun finding out in this theme park ride of a show.

Flock Off

BIRDS OF A FEATHER
Grand Theatre, Wolverhampton, Friday 23rd March, 2012

The theatre was packed to the rafters for this new touring production based on the popular TV series of yesteryear. And that is precisely the purpose of the exercise. Shows of this nature appeal to people’s sense of nostalgia and create a money spinner for all involved. Theatres need to make money. Of course they do. But it was with some trepidation and no small amount of theatrical snobbery that I took my seat in the stalls for this performance.

I have been burned before, you see. There was a tour of dinnerladies doing the rounds – it may still be out there – based on Victoria Wood’s superior sitcom. But that show was three episodes cobbled together with a cast trying to impersonate the TV stars. It was like a tribute act and left a lot to be desired theatrically speaking. Pointless, in fact. You’d be better off in the comfort of your own home with UK Gold.

This show has the advantage in that the original cast members are all in it: the familiar trio of Sharon, Tracey and Dorien are all played by the actresses who were such a big hit with the viewers. I was never a fan but I was aware of the series and its basic premise. It was also a pleasing relief to find that this is a new script, a new story and not just the parroting of something you can see on satellite telly.

It is still, inescapably, a sit-com. It is like attending a recording of an (extended) episode except there are no cameras. The plot throws up ‘funny’ situations: Dorien finds herself on a murder charge and has to suffer the ignominy of wearing a tag; Tracey combats her agoraphobia by wearing a Lidl carrier bag over her head when she wants to leave the house; Sharon pretends to be someone called Esmeralda Dubrovnik in order to fiddle the dole… Whatever happens, it is met with the same wise-cracking, the same complaining tone. They snipe at each other, they argue, and somehow things get resolved. And that’s fine, for a half-hour show. For an hour and a half, you want a little more. Where is the surprise? Where is the depth? It’s all icing and no cake.

The three stars perform it well. Lesley Joseph as the monstrous Dorien is the most extreme. Pauline Quirke, who has proved her acting chops in other genres, seems to be enjoying herself but, in my view, is under-stretched. Linda Robson’s Tracey is a one-note character, supposedly the emotional keystone of the piece, but this show is all about skating across the surface. All pastry and no filling.

The script (by original writers Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran but also credited to Gary Lawson and John Phelps – I can’t believe it took four people to come up with this!) has some very funny lines: the catty putdowns for example and there are plenty of hit-and-miss topical references. It is almost written in shorthand; the audience already knows the characters and the set-up so there is little need for exposition or room for development. The characters will end up exactly the same as they started because that’s the nature of sit-com.

A nostalgia trip and a chance to see well-liked performers in the flesh, this kind of show is not going to push the boundaries of theatrical endeavour. Neither is it likely to attract newcomers to the theatre. It’s a commercial rather than an artistic venture. The most satisfying productions manage to include elements of both.