Queen Anne - Theatre Royal Haymarket

Blenheim Palace, gifted to the Churchills by Queen Anne

OK, I know I said my next review would be of GBS classic Pygmalion, but I regret to say I never got round to it.

Unfortunately, I am a flawed human being. And you know who else was a flawed human being? Queen Anne. 

I've felt sympathetic towards Queen Anne for a long time. Whenever she's mentioned it's invariably either in the context of her appearance (omg she was FAT! She was buried in an almost square coffin because she was FAT!) or her seventeen pregnancies, none of which resulted in a child who lived to adulthood. She's treated either as a figure of a fun or a figure of abject tragedy; you rarely hear about her achievements, her views or her personality.

Queen Anne presented her as a multidimensional human (played by Emma Cunliffe), showing her development from an extremely fearful, naive princess, painfully lacking in self-confidence and relying completely on her best friend, the dominant Sarah Churchill (Romola Garai), to a considerably more self-assured, somewhat less naive and still kind and generous Queen. I enjoyed the portrayal of Anne's relationship with her husband. George of Denmark (Hywel Morgan) was depicted as a gentle, benign, simple character, who loved Anne and delighted in playing silly games with Sarah Churchill's young son. As a couple - especially towards the end of George's life, when they were both in ill health - Anne and George contrasted sharply with the glamorous, ambitious, able-bodied Churchills. I felt extremely sympathetic towards the royal couple, as they quietly and tenderly supported each other in their trials.

Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough: another flawed character. More flawed, arguably, than the titular queen. Despite Sarah's manipulative behaviour towards Anne, one couldn't help admiring her vivacity, quick-thinking and determination. And, despite Sarah's protestations to the contrary, one believed the Duke of Marlborough (Chu Omambala) when he insisted that, underneath her artful facade, she genuinely cared about Anne. The relationship between Anne and Sarah and its progression was fascinating and plausible. It was easy for Sarah to take Anne's friendship for granted when Anne was needy and vulnerable and Sarah was so much more capable physically, socially and, as she believed, intellectually. Sarah only realised the value of the friendship when it was too late. I found it refreshing to see a period play about women's friendship that wasn't focussed on women's inferior status in society. Not that there's anything wrong with that focus; it just struck me as unusual that this play didn't have it.

This was a relatively long play (three hours, including interval) but was engaging and thoroughly absorbing. The set was minimal but atmospheric. There were wood-panelled walls, multiple doors and what seemed to be real candles affixed to the walls. Other lighting was low. Costumes! Excellent. Perfect. Hairstyles? Ditto. Appearance of Jonathan Swift, satirist, essayist, political pamphleteer, poet and cleric? Check. Actor who played wise old financial adviser in Poldark? Yes, he was there too, in a vaguely similar role. I highly recommend this play.

Next: I don't know.

photo credit: Feathering the Nest Blenheim Palace via photopin (license)

An American in Paris - Dominion Theatre

Paris

As a big fan of George Gershwin, I was excited to finally see An American in Paris, fresh from Broadway. I listened to the orchestral composition 'An American in Paris' MANY times during my teenage years, along with 'Rhapsody in Blue'. [Yes, I was a cool teen. My Gershwin CD was, I think, the first CD I ever bought.] So it was interesting to experience this piece in the context of a musical.

Set in France immediately after the second world war, An American in Paris follows the fortunes of three artistically-inclined young men who become friends, and fall in love with the same woman, a talented ballet dancer. The plot wasn't hugely sophisticated, but it wasn't Julian Fellowes-level predictable, either. It was kind of like a more upbeat, less fantastical version of The Red Shoes - with songs. Both oeuvres being about a love of dance, following your dreams, and romance, and both containing a 'show within a show' ballet. [But yes, apart from that, they are completely different.]

An American in Paris was an extremely easy to watch, fluid, absorbing, uplifting, beautiful show. Flowing like a pure, calming, glittering stream, it was exuberant but somehow more restrained than most musicals - I suppose because of the style of music (the composition 'An American in Paris' plus Gershwin brothers' songs) and dancing (there was a lot of ballet). My favourite pieces were 'I Got Rhythm', 'I've Got Beginner's Luck', which included umbrella twirling and unbelievably rapid costume changes, and good old show tune 'I'll Build A Stairway to Paradise'. And of course, the climactic ballet number, which featured modernist costume and set designs. 

The sets were detailed and gorgeous - lots of impressive Parisian buildings, bohemian cafés and avant-garde 1940s interiors. One of the things I loved about this show was the graceful and creative way in which the performers themselves carried in the props and manoeuvred the sets into place; for example, someone twirling onstage carrying a chair above their head. The props team must have been very on-the-ball in this show, making sure everything was to hand. The costumes were wonderful and there were costume changes aplenty. Elegant New Look-style dresses abounded. Finally: I love the name Milo for a woman.

photo credit: Luc Mercelis Paris, Place Vendôme via photopin (license)

Next: Pygmalion

Kindertransport - Theatro Technis

Statue commemorating the children of the Kindertransport

I'm sorry for my lack of posting of late. I'm sure my followers have been perturbed by my absence, and I'm sorry to have disappointed the two of you. I know I said my next review would be of Timon of Athens but I'm afraid that ship has sailed. Too much time has elapsed. It was a well-performed play but not one of my favourites.

Kindertransport by Diane Samuels is an incredibly powerful, haunting, thought-provoking play, sensitively performed by the Tower Theatre Company. It tells the story of nine-year-old Eva, a Jewish girl who travels from Germany to Britain via the Kindertransport in 1938, leaving behind her beloved parents.

Based on real life experiences, the play added a new dimension to the way I'd always thought about the Kindertransport (the programme introduced by the British government in 1938 to give (mostly) Jewish children in Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia and Poland safe passage to the UK). My past thoughts about it had been predominantly rosy: how fortunate the children had been to have managed to avoid further persecution by getting out of increasingly anti-Semitic countries before the outbreak of war, and how wonderful it was that British people had been willing to take them in. Of course I knew it must have been terrible and psychologically scarring for the children to have had to leave their parents, but that paled in comparison to the horrors they would almost certainly have faced had they stayed - horrors that most of their parents did end up experiencing. The Kindertransport saved the lives of thousands of children, and it is important to celebrate that.

However, Kindertransport effectively shows the true complexity of the situation; that while the Kindertransport children were 'lucky', even those children placed with loving foster parents were not immune from complicated, severe, adverse psychological reactions from the experience - the ramifications of which would reverberate through generations. Set in 1938-1947 and the 1980s, switching seamlessly between time periods, Kindertransport deals with issues of identity and the loss thereof, and the harm and devastation that can come about through actions carried out with the best of intentions.

Eva was played engagingly and convincingly by Katrin Larissa Kasper - a difficult part involving the ability to speak German and portraying a character over the course of eight or nine years. At times, the actions of the characters Evelyn (Ruth Sullivan) and foster mother Lil (Amanda Waggott) made me angry and uncomfortable. When I first heard the play as a radio adaptation, I struggled to sympathise with Evelyn at all. But actually seeing Kindertransport made me see her in a more sympathetic light. All the female protagonists are sympathetic characters, trying to make the best choices in intensely difficult circumstances, and credit goes to the actors for evoking such strong feelings of sympathy and anger.

The Pied Piper of Hamelin 'Ratcatcher' figure lurking in the background and physically manifesting itself in the form of several grotesquely masked men (Paul Willcocks), all behaving in ways that Eva perceives as threatening, added an extra layer of sinister-ness, and gave one more of an understanding of Evelyn. The use of piano strings for the music was effective in a poignant and sinister way. Attention given to costumes and props was meticulous, as is customary for the Tower Theatre Company.

Kindertransport will be performed again by the Tower Theatre Company at Upstairs at the Gatehouse, on Saturday 24th - Sunday 25th June and Tuesday 27th June - Sunday 2nd July. I strongly recommend it!

photo credit: FarzanaL Kindertransport via photopin (license)

Next: Hopefully something equally good

Cirque du Soleil 'Amaluna' - Royal Albert Hall

Peacock feather motif was used in different ways in Amaluna

The great physical courage of the Cirque du Soleil performers can be contrasted with my own woeful lack thereof in not daring to use the Royal Albert Hall's lifts. I did enter one with my theatre companion but lost my nerve when the doors re-opened unexpectedly on the same floor, and slunk out shamefacedly to take the stairs.

Amaluna was loosely based on Shakepeare's The Tempest. Miranda and her mother, Prospera, live on an enchanted island inhabited by lizards and other magical beings. A shipwreck fortuitously brings both Miranda and Miranda's nurse/governess(?) love interests in the forms of Ferdinand and the ship's captain respectively. I had thought while watching it that the nurse/governess character was Prospera, but have now been informed by another review that Prospera was actually the woman with the electric cello. There were numerous powerful, prominent female characters who could have been Prospera or Ariel. Caliban appeared to be represented by the lizard. None of this mattered, though; the awakening of love between Miranda and Ferdinand was easy to perceive and understand.

While most of the acts were indeed dangerous and death-defying, I found watching them to be more restful, mesmerising and somehow calming than a sitting-on-the-edge-of-one's-seat experience. They were beautiful and fluid and consummately elegant. Even the splashing of water out of a pool was done incredibly elegantly. There was a good amount of variation in the acts. My favourites were the aerial hoopist (was this Ariel? the goddess of the moon?) in her glittering blue costume, who 'hooped' down into the half-globe-shaped pool; Miranda's contortion performance on the side of the pool and her antics within the pool (I loved the use of water - how often do you get to see people underwater in a show?); the perfectly-timed men on see-saws routine; and the good old-fashioned gymnastics display sans equipment towards the end. One particularly imaginative turn was a balancing act involving a performer picking up whalebone-shaped pieces of wood with her toes and fashioning them - using balance alone - into an impressive boat-like structure.

We would have benefited from being closer to the stage for some of the acts. The juggling, for example, was quite difficult to fully appreciate from our vantage point.

I admit I wasn't keen on the clowns in love storyline. The female clown, who was the nurse/governess character, seemed to be channelling Rafiki from The Lion King. These clowns were a huge amount more preferable than traditional clowns, though. And I understood their purpose.

photo credit: Larah McElroy Peacock feather via photopin (license)

Next: Timon of Athens

Anything Goes - Upstairs at the Gatehouse

'Lifebelt', or, as Americans apparently say, 'lifebuoy'

This buoyant production cast my cares adrift, becalmed my worries and firmly anchored my mind in the metaphorical harbour of happiness. OK, enough gratuitous nautical terms! This was the first time I'd seen Anything Goes, Cole Porter's 1934 musical set aboard the ocean liner SS American, and Ovation's production did not disappoint.

P.G. Woodhouse was involved in the creation of the story and Anything Goes contains many typical Woodhousian themes, including false identities (both with and without disguises), British aristocracy, romance and, of course, extreme silliness. I enjoyed the exuberantly-delivered songs; I hadn't realised 'Let's Misbehave' was from Anything Goes - it's one of my favourite songs from that era. The main 'powerhouse' songs were the titular 'Anything Goes' and 'Blow, Gabriel, Blow'. The tap dancing that accompanied these numbers was impressive, especially given the confines of Upstairs at the Gatehouse.

I loved Taryn Erickson's performance as Christian evangelical turned nightclub singer Reno Sweeney. I can imagine this character being played in a more cynical way; I liked the fact that she was played here as a thoroughly good-hearted, mischievous, infectiously cheerful person. My favourite scenes were those featuring Reno and stereotypically reserved, fastidious British aristocrat Lord Evelyn Oakleigh, who was amusingly played by Jack Keane. The two were very funny together in their opposites-attracting storyline.

Excellent 1930s costumes - I loved the high-waisted trousers in particular, and Reno and her Angels' nautical inspired get-ups. I'd wear high-waisted trousers almost up to my armpits, if they were available. Especially in winter. The set was also good, as usual, with audience members seated on either side of the 'deck', and a video of the sea projected onto one end of the theatre while the 'ship' was in motion, and a picture of land when it had arrived in Britain towards the end.

photo credit: Alan O'Rourke lifebuoy-ring-buoy-lifering-lifesaver-life-donut-life-preserver-lifebelt-blue via photopin (license)

Next: Cirque du Soleil

Half a Sixpence - Noël Coward Theatre

'Two half sixpences joined together make one...'

This was one of the most energetic things I've ever seen. Charlie Stemp must have the stamina of an Olympic athlete. I hope he is a naturally hyper, exuberant, jolly person because otherwise playing Arthur Kipps in this production must take a superhuman amount of effort. I admit I find the idea of someone with a melancholic disposition playing such a relentlessly ebullient, physically demanding role darkly amusing.

Set in 1911, Half a Sixpence is a rags to riches to rags back to some degree of riches tale, featuring irrepressible banjo-playing apprentice tailor Arthur Kipps, who unexpectedly inherits a fortune, finds it difficult to fit into upper class society and has romantic misadventures with two women at opposite ends of the social scale. It's funny, feel-good and very, very jolly, with elaborate sets, great dance numbers and banjo-playing.

Most of the songs in this production were original to the first musical, but there were several new songs and some of the original songs didn't feature, for example, 'All in the cause of economy', which I remember enjoying in the school production I saw many moons ago. However, the new songs were excellent, especially 'Pick out a simple tune', which was WONDERFUL! My traditional Half a Sixpence favourite, 'Flash, bang wallop', entertaining as it was, was surpassed by 'Pick out a simple tune'. It wasn't just the song, it was the dancing during the song that made it so good; upper class people loosening up and playing the spoons and someone swinging on the chandelier.

The more minor characters were given proper personalities, which I liked. My favourite character was Sid Pornick (Alex Hope), one of the apprentices, because I liked his idealistic socialism and his hat. I was delighted when the woman he planned to marry turned out to be a suffragette. Regarding a main character, I felt sorry for Helen Walsingham (Emma Williams) at the end - I vaguely remember feeling the same way when I first saw this musical. She gets a rough deal that I'm not convinced she deserves. Still - it's 1911 - in three years' time all their lives will be turned upside down, and maybe Helen will get to do satisfying war work...

The only slightly negative thing I have to say about this production of Half a Sixpence is that it bears the unmistakable hallmark of Julian Fellowes' authorship: lack of subtlety. For example, the scene at Lady Punnet's musical evening, in which Kipps says outright at least once that he doesn't want to be there - it would have been more realistic for his discomfort to have revealed itself through facial expressions and movements rather than stating to her Ladyship's face that he's hating her social event. Kipps is working-class; he doesn't have Asperger's Syndrome.

Lack of subtlety aside, this is the perfect show to see if you're looking for a potent shot of jollity and merriment.

photo credit: woody1778a GREAT BRITAIN, VICTORIA 1892 ---SIXPENCE a via photopin (license)

Next: Anything Goes