Dark Clouds on the Horizon

FALSE ACCOUNTS

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Wednesday 19^th October, 2022

You may be aware (you should be!) that since the turn of the century, hundreds of sub-postmasters up and down the country have been wrongly convicted of theft or false accounting by the Post Office.  Many have lost their livelihoods, some were imprisoned.  Some committed suicide.  The root cause was Horizon, the computer system imposed on all branches, a system that was acclaimed as ‘infallible’.  Just like the Titanic was unsinkable, it turns out.

This drama-documentary by The Outcasts Creative is dedicated to all those impacted by those real-life events. Characters of the sub-postmasters are condensed into five individuals, representing the range of experience suffered by the many. Events are linked by narration, and there are scenes that are more like sketches. Pigs’ noses and devil horns give the show an agit-prop feel, and there are some great ideas: Paula Vennells’s Darth Vader vibe, with the sub-postmasters as hooded rebels against her evil empire. There are moments when the satire is sharp, but these never undermine the emotional testimony of the monologues.

Some standouts for me include Graham MacDonnell as a jaded IT worker and later as a game-show host, and Cathy Odusanya, whose emotive account is heartbreakingly real. There is some wonderfully atmospheric music underscoring the action, courtesy of composer Ice Dob.

The cast of 13 are always on the move so its difficult to attribute roles to the correct performer on the cast list, but they make a vibrant ensemble.

Tonally, it’s patchy.  The nature of the beast, I suppose, but directors Lance S A Nielsen (who also wrote it) and Dickon Tolson need to ensure energy levels are consistent across the board to keep us hooked.  Also, it runs a bit long and could do with some judicious trimming: the future-in-Heaven scene is not funny enough to warrant keeping in its present form – members of the audience were ducking out, fearful of missing trains and buses.  When it’s working as it should, the show contains some extremely powerful moments, amplified by the intimacy of the Old Joint Stock stage.

The story continues in the real world, as the fight for compensation goes on.  It’s a story that needs to be told.  People need to stop putting faith in the wrong sorts to run powerful institutions – and ought such institutions have such power without being brought to account?

Thought-provoking and moving, the show just needs a little tightening to get the bugs out.

☆ ☆ ☆ and a half!

Star Man

JARMAN

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Saturday 9^th April 2022

Mark Farrelly is the write and star of this one-man piece about the life of filmmaker and gay rights activist, Derek Jarman.  From the off, we are immersed in the lyrical script as Derek describes the plants and flowers in his now-famous garden.  The descriptions are interrupted by short, sharp flashbacks from his childhood (You’ll go blind… etc) startling us out of the flowery idyll of his cottage.

Farrelly takes us through his subject’s life story sure enough but it quickly emerges that this show is about more than one man’s life.  It’s about all our lives, or rather our attitude to it.  Farrelly confronts us, albeit playfully, to confront what it is we’re doing with our allotted time.

It’s a small matinee audience.  Farrelly is sure to address us all as individuals, darting around, making eye contact here, asking a rhetorical question there.  Throughout the show, there’s a frisson of excitement and/or terror about being called upon to participate.  Farrelly is gentle with his volunteers and/or victims so there is no need to feel uneasy.  In fact, the message of the piece is to be unafraid to participate.  In our own lives!

We hear about sexual encounters, both real and fantasy.  We hear about Jarman’s repressive upbringing, his first jobs out of art college, before he launches into the film career that will make his name.

It’s all done in spartan fashion.  A single chair, a sheet, a roll of paper, and a multi-coloured flashlight are all Farrelly uses – as well as his considerable talent and presence as a performer.  He rides, not just a roller-coaster, but an entire theme park of emotions, sometimes snapping in and out of extremes at the flick of a lighting change.  What emerges is a portrait of the artist as a force to be reckoned with.  To see this vibrant, exuberant, rebellious figure reduced to a stooped and trembling shadow of himself, thanks to AIDS, is heart-breaking, and painfully portrayed.

Director Sarah-Louise Young keeps the contrasting moods and moments sharp, and Farrelly is friendly and fun, intense and, yes, a little intimidating. Confronted by his own mortality, Jarman confronts us with ours.

We come away with admiration for both Jarman and the actor who has channelled him so vividly.  At the end, Jarman admonishes us to ‘be astonishing’.

And that’s exactly what Mark Farrelly has been.

Fabulous, thought-provoking stuff.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆☆

Blue; Mark Farrelly IS Derek Jarman

Dropping the Soap

SUMMER STREET

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Friday 10^th May, 2019

 

Four actors from a defunct Australian soap opera are reunited for a commemorative special in which they are to play all the parts (“Nobody will notice”).  Their week of rehearsals will culminate in a live broadcast.  There is a lot at stake.

That’s the premise of Andrew Norris’s bonzer new musical, which satirises the sunny optimism of the shows that dominated television in the 1990s.  The rehearsal scenes are hilarious, sending up the exposition-heavy dialogue, the public service information, and the outlandish plots.  But Norris intersperses them with glimpses into the actors’ lives.  We see the effects of being killed off and being unable to escape your typecasting.  The show is much more than silly satire; there is substance here in the melodrama of the actors’ real lives.

The songs are stonkers.  Disillusioned Angie, now working at a fish counter, sings the searing ‘Take the Knife’ bringing the show’s first dark moment.  Brock and Marlene belt out a smashing duet, ”Don’t Give Up” – the soap was a musical serial, a genius idea, ripe with comic potential.  There’s a brilliantly catchy parody, “Lucky Plucky Me” that infects my mind for the rest of the evening.  The highlight though is “Chains Around My Heart” in which Bobbi (the amazing Sarah-Louise Young) treats us to a dazzling display of vocal dexterity while parodying pretentious pop videos and earnest oversinging.  The number, quite rightly, brings the house down.

Young is hilarious as budding lesbian-mechanic Bobbi, and she is matched by Myke Cotton’s Brock (with mullet attached to his cap!).   Simon Snashall plays the father figures and the doctor – a deathbed scene is painfully funny – while Julie Clare is practically perfect as veteran soap actress Steph, who plays the soap’s busybody Mrs Mingle, and star-crossed lover Marlene.

Special mention goes to Pogo, the soap’s canine superstar, who makes a vital contribution to the plot!

The laughs keep coming but I get the sense of an underlying affection for the material that inspired the mockery.  There is also commentary here about the changes in televisual fare reflecting a loss of innocence and optimism in society, as the sunshine soaps have been usurped by so-called reality TV.

Thoroughly exhilarating, this show, like the serials it sends up, ought to run and run indefinitely!  With book, music, lyrics and direction all coming from the same man, Andrew Norris is some kind of genius, I reckon.

I loved it.

Mullet over: Myke Cotton as Brock

 

War Wounds

GLORY DAZED

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Thursday 28^th March, 2019

 

It’s closing time in a backstreet pub in Doncaster, and mild-mannered barman Simon and his staff are tidying up.  The peace is shattered by pounding at the door.  It’s Simon’s best mate, former squaddie Ray, ex-husband of Simon’s lady friend Carla, demanding to be let in for a lock-in.  Against their better judgment, they let him in, and what should be an after-hours drinking session turns into more of a hostage situation.

Ray is a bully and boor, a walking war zone with an extremely short fuse and a nasty sense of humour.  We laugh, uncomfortably – in case he turns on us, it feels like!  The humour is very dark and comes a distant second to the tension in this intimate, intimidating piece.  Director Tracey Street makes us feel as though we are in the pub with them, pitching the sudden changes of mood perfectly to keep us on edge.  It’s a gruelling experience and an irresistible one.

Dominic Thompson is in great form as barman Simon, nervous and timid upon Ray’s arrival, before dredging up some inner strength along with some unsavoury details about Ray’s wartime experiences in Afghanistan.  Karendip Phull is suitably dim as teenage barmaid Leanne in a well-observed portrayal, and Sophie Handy is heartbreaking as the ex-wife, embittered and standing her ground while still having feelings for her troubled ex.  She storms it, in fact.

Inevitably, perhaps, the show belongs to Ray.  In a towering performance, Paul Findlay brings this psychotic, damaged individual to scary life, dominating the scene, oozing menace and lashing out.  And yet, such is the power of Cat Jones’s writing, Tracey Street’s direction and Findlay’s rounded performance, we actually feel for the man, as we learn about his harrowing past.  The play highlights the damage, the PTSD, inflicted on soldiers.  As Carla wryly observes, if he’d come back with his legs off, everyone could see it.  Mental trauma is invisible.

Tautly presented, this discomfiting piece packs quite a wallop.  A superlative cast and a director who can orchestrate mood swings like a symphony deliver this sordid and powerful story in a production it is difficult to fault.  I emerge feeling punch-drunk and exhausted from the tension – just like a proper night out!

Sophie Handy, Paul Findlay and Dominic Thompson

Inflated Opinion

ME AND MY DOLL

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Thursday 28^th February, 2019

 

This two-hander, written and directed by Lucy Bird, gets off to a bit of a Shirley Valentine start with twenty-something Kate speaking to herself and to the blow-up doll given to her by her ‘friends’ because of her apparent inability to land herself a real boyfriend.  The doll is a punchbag at first and then a sounding board as Kate vents her frustrations and then tries out a more ‘feminine’ and nurturing manner, as prescribed by the company she works for.  Kate finds she is rubbish at conforming to gender expectations, and why should she have to change at all, just to get along in a man’s world?

Miraculously, the doll comes to life, in an endearingly funny performance by Thomas Bulpett.  He unearths Kate’s secret stash of rom-com DVDs and learns all about life and love from them.  There’s a lot of fun to be had spotting all the references, but Kate, unlike the heroines of these movies, can tell the difference between reality and fiction.  In a reversal of Pygmalion, the Doll tries to teach manners and acceptable behaviour to the human, so Kate can go out with a ‘real man’ (whatever that is).  As their relationship develops in complexity, we wonder who needs whom, who is playing with whom, and can we ever tell if what someone says they feel about us is real.  Is the Doll genuine in his affections or does he, like everyone, have his own agenda?  Will he get what he wants or will the situation blow up (heh) in his face?

Rachel Baker is funny, volatile and tender as the feisty Kate, while Thomas Bulpett is simply excellent in this latter-day Toy Story.   Lucy Bird’s script is fresh, witty and rich, touching and clever, and as director, she ensures the actors explore the physicality of their roles to the full: the Doll’s movements, Kate’s terrible dancing…

Thoroughly enjoyable and engaging, this is a rom-com for our times.  Foul-mouthed and funny, this production by Birmingham’s own Paperback Theatre Company is a vibrant new work that is definitely not a let-down!

Hello, Dolly! Rebecca Baker and companion

 

Intoxicating

THE TOXIC AVENGER

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Friday 8^th February, 2019

 

Based on a schlocky horror film, this satirical musical by Joe Dipietro is given a stripped- down presentation in the Old Joint Stock’s intimate space.  I say ‘intimate’ and I mean ‘in your face’.  We are right there, inches away from the performers, within their grasp, within their eye-line, in their path…

It’s the story of hapless nerd Melvin Ferd the Third who, having been dumped in a barrel of toxic waste, develops superhuman strength along with other, less desirable attributes, like green skin and leaking pustules.  In love with blind librarian Sarah, ‘Toxie’ becomes a force for good, fighting against pollution and corporate negligence, largely in the glamorous if tacky figure of the Mayor of New Jersey, Babs Belgoody.

In the title role, Richard Haines is remarkable, giving a flawlessly sung performance as good as any I’ve heard in the West End.  His rendition of You Tore My Heart Out is stunning.  His acting is top notch too, and he is supported by half a dozen strong co-stars, not least Sarah Haines as his love interest, a blind librarian.  The show gets a lot of mileage out of Sarah’s disability; we know we shouldn’t laugh, but we do, but this is cartoon stuff.  Everything is heightened for comedic melodrama – even the scene changes are hilarious.

Lizzie Robins doubles as the wicked Mayor Babs and Melvin’s Noo Yoik mother, Ma Ferd.  At one point the story calls for both of her characters to sing a duet.  Robins pulls it off with aplomb, keeping each character in a different register.  She almost doesn’t need the half-and-half costume she dons to close the number.

A versatile quartet makes up the rest of the cast, listed simply as Black Dude, White Dude, Black Chick, and White Chick.  They provide all the supporting roles and they each get plenty of opportunity to shine.  Alanna Boden’s Professor, for example, in a duet with the Mayor is a delight; Elle Knowles’s bully, Gavin Whichello’s shirtless cowboy singer – the quartet are the beating heart of the show, the population of the troubled town of Tromaville.  They’re all great but I feel I ought to make special mention of Joash Musundi for his doughnut-eating cop, his doctor, and his wonderful Shoniqua.

This is a production that revels in its limitations.  Director Adam Carver works wonders to keep things hilarious, aided by Sarah Haines’s frenetic choreography.  Every moment I’m torn between laughing out loud and marvelling at the talent on display.  Hugely enjoyable, exhilaratingly delivered, this rude and raunchy show is more tonic than toxic.

What is toxic is the world we live in.  If corporations and politicians aren’t going to address issues of climate change, perhaps we ought to adopt the Toxic Avenger’s approach and start ripping off a few heads!

If I Had a Hammer

MISTRESS TO THE MIDNIGHT

The Old Joint Stock, Birmingham, Friday 1^st February, 2019

 

Do you remember the classic British horror film made by Anvil Studios, Mistress of the Midnight?  No, of course you don’t because the film never existed and neither did the studios.  This hilarious production begins with the premise that the fictitious film has been found and, for the first time in sixty years, is going to be shown to a discerning public, namely the members of the ‘Sinema Society’.

This funny introduction sets the tone – this is the clever, silly kind of humour that reminds me of the heydays of Radio 4 comedy shows – and with only three performers, fast-moving action and even faster quick changes are the order of the day.

The ‘film’ begins with a cod-Victorian English voiceover, as our protagonist Ned Hellion, a kind of Jonathan Harker figure, writes home to his fiancée.  He has been summoned abroad to a weird Germanic country to conduct some legal business on behalf of the mysterious Madame Zozanov.  He encounters a host of colourful characters, and the tropes and atmosphere of the genre are laid on with a trowel – or should that be a Hammer?

It’s an absolute scream!  This kind of thing is right up my dark alley.  A gag-packed script delivered by a talented trio whose heightened performances sell even the lamest of jokes and make meals of the more melodramatic moments.  And, surprisingly, it’s a bit creepy too. Despite the silly wigs, the funny voices, the ridiculous vocabulary of the locals, and the far-fetched nature of the subject matter, there is the odd moment when the pace slows and the eeriness seeps through.

But not for long!  For most of the sixty minutes duration, you will be laughing out loud, relishing the daftness and loving the performers.  Written and performed by Jacob Lovick, Jack Robertson and Chazz Redhead, this glorious piece took me back to my childhood when stopping up late to watch a Hammer double-bill was a delicious treat.

Fabulous!