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

The Red Shoes - Sadler's Wells

Doll that looks a bit like the protagonist

This was a birthday surprise for me and I got to sit in the FRONT ROW!

The Red Shoes is a new Matthew Bourne ballet, based on a fairy tale of the same name by Danish Master of Melancholy Hans Christian Andersen and, more directly, by a 1948 film. I knew nothing about the ballet's storyline and was slightly nervous it would be depressing both because of HCA's having inspired it and after seeing Bourne's Cinderella, which was depressing - set in London during the Blitz, with a thoroughly mis vibe. However, The Red Shoes was Bourne at his best: intensely atmospheric, joyful, poignant, beautiful, humorous and intelligent.

The Red Shoes is a story within a story, about a passionate, talented dancer who joins a ballet company touring Europe, falls in love, and plays the principal role in a ballet called 'The Red Shoes' (basically, a less macabre version of Anderson's story) after the prima ballerina is injured. It's set in the 1930s and the costumes were wonderful - high-waisted trousers, boyleg swimming costumes on both sexes, headbands...The sets were also excellent. Bourne's productions are so good at evoking strong atmospheres; it's one of my favourite things about them. The 'ballet within a ballet' was shown effectively by a smaller stage on the real stage, with curtains, which was revolved to display either 'onstage' or 'backstage', if that makes sense.

I loved the characterisation in this production; even the minor characters came over as having recognisable personalities. All the tradititional theatrical 'types' were represented in the ballet company: the morose, taciturn director; the flamboyant, impossible to satisfy choreographer; the supremely confident, languid prima ballerina; and the equally confident, somewhat camp principal male dancer (ballerino?). Ashley Shaw as Victoria Page, the wearer of the titular shoes, was exuberant, impassioned and beautiful to watch.

My favourite scenes:

• The Monte Carlo beach scene. The backdrop was a simple, minimalist blue sea design, and watching the dancers cavort happily about in their bathing outfits, tossing beach balls and simulating swimming, was a delight. 
• The performance of 'The Red Shoes'. The set was a stark white 1930s geometrical design - like something out of a dystopian film from that era. I loved the ensemble's fantastical black outfits and dances. The rendering of the story of a pair of enchanted shoes that force the wearer to dance to her death was dramatic and exciting.
• The seedy variety show scene, where the audience could see both the backstage action and what was happening 'onstage'. I felt sad for Victoria Page and her musician lover, Julian (Andrew Monaghan), whose glittering careers had deteriorated. I really liked the latter's story trajectory, by the way. The Red Shoes wasn't all about Victoria's love of dance, it was also about Julian's desire to progress his musical career.
• The sumptuous home of the director, which featured a huge pointe shoe sculpture.

I would highly recommend.

photo credit: Rinoninha 33/52 via photopin (license)

Next: Half a Sixpence

King Lear - Hampstead Parish Church

King Lear flyer

King Lear has for many years been my least favourite Shakespeare play and I had no intention of ever seeing it again. My heart sank when I saw it had been selected as the Hampstead Players' winter production for 2016 and, I admit, I only went to see it out of loyalty to the H. Players; Nicolas Holzapfel (King of France) in particular. The reasons for my dislike of King Lear are as follows:

• King Lear is a massive whinger and it's difficult to sympathise with him.
• The eye gouging scene.
• It's unadulteratedly mis and grim and depressing.
• I'm generally not a fan of plays where most of the characters' names are place names, i.e. Gloucester, Kent, Basingstoke etc. I seem to have a mental block where these are concerned and find it difficult to keep track of who's who.
• The eye gouging scene.
• Its extreme length.

However...this production was excellent and I'm glad I went to see it. And no, that's not just because of my association with the H. Players. It was fast-paced and had been adeptly pared down, which made it more absorbing and easier to follow. It helped that I was sitting in the front row and could see every facial expression and was able to feel part of the action. I hadn't realised how many famous Shakespeare phrases King Lear contained, including 'Childe Rowland to the dark tower came'. I'd thought that had originated with Robert Browning. All the references to madness and Bedlam were interesting, especially having recently gone to the Wellcome Collection's exhibition on Bedlam, which I would recommend! I was also impressed that this production contained humour, which I can't recall witnessing in any other production of Lear.

I admit I still struggled to sympathise with Lear, convincingly played as he was by David Gardner. I find it hard to get past the whole asking his daughters which one loves him best gambit, and his shoddy treatment of Cordelia. I really enjoyed the scenes with Lear and his Fool (Gaynor Bassey-Fish), though. I liked the attitude of the Fool towards Lear; it was simultaneously compassionate and unwilling to put up with his nonsense. Cordelia (Megan Britton) was appropriately cherubic and sympathetic, and her appearance later on in the play in camo gear made her appear more capable and action-oriented than one might expect. Her sociopathic sisters, Goneril (Margaret Pritchard Houston) and Regan (Emma Lyndon-Stanford) were played with subtlety rather than as full-blown pantomimic eeeeeeeeevil queens (although they do carry out unconscionable deeds, no question). Goneril's discomfort in the first scene, when compelled to flatter Lear, was evident. I found the scenes featuring Edgar (Matthew Williams) and his father, Gloucester (Bill Risebero), following the latter's blinding, moving. Edgar's character trajectory was probably the part of the play I found the most compelling.

Honorable mention goes to the Russian cavalry-esque trenchcoat circa 1905 sported by Albany (Jolyon Bohling) towards the end.

Is King Lear now my favourite Shakepeare play? We-ll, no. But it has been bumped up a few places. I would probably now put it above Titus Andronicus, The Two Gs of Verona, Love's Labours Lost and maybe even King John in my estimation. So, well done, Players!

The only weak link in this production, if it can be described as such, was Lear's crown, which thankfully only appeared in the first scene. It was a lovely stereotypical crown, but gave off a slight primary school nativity vibe. Which makes me wonder...does King Herod feature in nativity plays? I don't know, never having seen or experienced one.

Next: As yet unknown

Cymbeline - Barbican

Cymbeline tile

I've been to the Barbican estate a lot but this was my first visit to the theatre. Sitting in the back row of the Barbican theatre was like being ensconced in a warm, comfortable, cosy yet spacious concrete womb. I nearly had the entire row to myself. I liked the visible orchestra balconies on either side of the stage.

Yes, I chose to pay more to see the RSC's Cymbeline rather than the Globe's. As you might have guessed from the Taming of the Shrew post, I am not a fan of Emma Rice's Globe regime and am not sad that it will be brought to an early end. And that's not because I'm a fuddy-duddy or stick-in-the-mud or traditionalist or any other label leveled at Rice Regime critics. It's because I believe it's valuable to have one theatre - ONE theatre - out of the approximately 160 theatres in London and goodness knows how many theatres in the UK, in which to perform 16th/early 17th century plays in a more or less authentic manner in order to give people an insight into how they would have appeared to audiences at that time. Which actually helps people to better understand the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries. Plus, the Globe's Cymbeline was set in London: 2016. I live in London: 2016, and I like escapism. Oh, yes, I forgot, the Globe's production was actually called Imogen, which was a good, feminist innovation. However, I'll see your Imogen, Globe, and raise you a FEMALE CYMBELINE (Gillian Bevan)!

It was interesting seeing this play soon after The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Both plays contain some of the same themes - the separation of lovers, a woman disguising herself as a man and finally 'unmasking' in the presence of her lover, female constancy and male fallibility in love...However, Cymbeline, as a later play, is MUCH BETTER than The Two Gs - the characters are significantly more complex and interesting, the plot contains more layers and twists, and the setting  - Ancient Britain - is more intriguing.

This production was highly atmospheric and absorbing, which was just as well because it was three hours long (not including interval). The costumes were modern but they weren't tied to any particular era and were quite eccentric, which helped to convey an otherworldly atmosphere. Innogen (Bethan Cullinane) started off wearing a blue denim top and white tutu, which Posthumus (Hiran Abeysekera) ended up wearing during the battle scenes. The main focal point of the set was a tree stump, which was progressively uprooted throughout the course of the play. 

I've read Cymbeline but had completely forgotten about the subplot involving Cymbeline's missing children. The scenes featuring Arviragus/Cadwal and Guideria/Polydore and their adoptive father Belarius were some of my favourites in the play. Guideria (Natalie Simpson) was my favourite character - I only realise now that the character was written as a man. I'd thought it was an unusually fierce, kick-ass female character for Shakespeare. The matter-of-fact way in which she fought and killed the manipulative potential rapist Cloten (Marcus Griffiths) was darkly comic. The instant platonic love shown by Arviragus and Guideria towards their (unknown to them) sister was funny and heart-warming. The 'fear no more the heat of the sun' speech was delivered as a beautiful song by the two siblings. 

Another strong, memorable part of the play was the battle scene, in which Posthumus fought for Britain incredibly skilfully and savagely dressed in Innogen's bloodied tutu. The denouement scene was quite funny because there were so many things to reveal. I'm sure I wasn't the only person to have completely forgotten the whole poisoning subplot. I also liked the use of projections in the background showing English translations of Latin and other languages, when the characters spoke in different languages, and map projections, showing the areas that the characters were talking about.

photo credit: Plashing Vole DSC_0615 via photopin (license)

Next: surprise!

The Two Gentlemen of Verona - Sam Wanamaker Playhouse

This encapsulates the 60s vibe of  The Two Gs of Verona

The Two Gentlemen of Verona was another play in my 'Seeing all of Shakespeare's plays, no matter how un/appealing' series. I was really looking forward to going to the SW Playhouse again to experience its magical, intense, dreamlike atmosphere in all its 1600s authenticity, so you can imagine my chagrin when I looked up the play beforehand and discovered that this production was SET IN THE 1960s!!!

It was highly discombobulating to see a play set in the 60s - with 60s outfits and a set involving flashing neon lights and modern instruments and a sound system no less - being performed in a small, wooden, candlelit theatre. With big candlelit chandeliers swaying gently overhead. It simply did.not.work. Despite my anguish about Emma Rice's new regime at the Globe, it's not the case that I'm completely against modern/other era plays ever being performed at the Globe Theatre. However, I am against modern era plays ever being performed at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse - unless, say, it's a modern play set in a cave or something. Otherwise, the candles are sorely wasted.

I can see why The Two Gentlemen of Verona is not an oft-performed play. The plot was pretty weak. I felt that the cast pulled out all the stops, but they didn't have much to work with. The titular two gentlemen of Verona, good friends Valentine (Guy Hughes) and Proteus (Dharmesh Patel), go to Milan in order to work for a while at the Milanese court. Proteus regretfully leaves behind Julia (Leah Brotherhead), the woman he loves, while Valentine falls in love with the Duke's daughter, Silvia (Aruhan Galieva), in Milan. When he arrives in Milan a bit later, Proteus also immediately falls for Silvia, forgets about Julia, and spectacularly betrays Valentine in order to carry out his wooing, which makes him either exceptionally naive, immature and mercurial, or a sociopath. Either way, a sympathetic character he was decidedly not.

The play is described as a comedy, but it's not. There were a few funny moments, but they mostly came about due to modern interpretations; for example, Valentine fleeing the court and joining a band - that is, a music-playing band - made up of notorious hippies. Music was used to good effect in this production. Comedy-wise, there was also a whole plotline about Launce (Charlotte Mills) and his dog, Crab (played by a person, Fred Thomas, not a real dog), which was supposed to be funny but which I didn't really get. It just didn't appeal to my sense of humour and I don't think I ever figured out exactly who Launce was. I generally don't like seeing people playing dogs, either.

I liked the interpretation of the final scene. Proteus assaults Silvia and threatens to rape her (see what I mean about it not being a comedy?) and only stops when Valentine intervenes. Julia is also there and she and Silvia watch in horror as the two men reconcile with each other. Proteus gets no comeuppance at all and the women are left feeling betrayed and shocked - Silvia by Valentine's happy reconciliation with the man who almost raped her, and Julia by Proteus' general assholery and assault on Silvia. In this production, Julia and Silvia both cry while the two 'gentlemen' embrace, which is a realistic reaction and one that I can imagine not being performed in Shakespeare's time.

photo credit: ArtGrafx Trippypoos via photopin (license)

Next: Cymbeline

Pride and Prejudice - Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

Regent's Park Open Air Theatre - not great photo, sorry

'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a play based on a witty yet not hilarious book, which is rendered purely comedic, loses some of its soul.' - Alice Lambert

This was my first visit to Regent's Park Open Air Theatre. I was seated in one of the end seats on the back row; too far away to see facial expressions, but I did appreciate having a more complete view of the stage. It was quite special to see the actors skittering about the set like dolls in a Regency's doll's house. The revolving set, with stairs leading up to an elegant walkway/balcony, was impressive.

There were parts of this production that I thought were well done, but overall I wasn't keen on it. It was mostly played for laughs, which meant that the characters were portrayed in an over-the-top, parodic sort of way. Yes, I know Mrs Bennet, Mr Collins and Lydia are larger than life, parodic kinds of characters...but not to the extent that they were in this production; Mrs Bennet and Mr Collins especially. And Mary Bennet! I have a special affinity with Mary, having played her last year in the Hampstead Players' P&P, and was disappointed to see her portrayed so cartoonishly in this version by Leigh Quinn. She spoke like an elderly woman and her singing was ridiculously terrible.

I didn't warm to Tafline Steen as Elizabeth, either. I thought she was great in the contemporary play Charles III, in which she played art student Jess. In P&P she spoke with a posher accent but still seemed to use the same inflections and intonations as she had done in Charles III, which made Lizzy sound too modern. But - worse - she came across as flippant and glib, especially in the scene in which she was introduced to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. There wasn't much depth or reflectiveness to her at all. 

The action went at a whirlwind pace, with scarcely any build-up to Darcy's doomed first proposal, but the ending dragged. Mr Bennet took it upon himself in the penultimate(?) scene to recount his life story - the reasons why he had married Mrs Bennet etc. - which was mildly interesting but unnecessary. A lot could have been cut from the last few scenes and more time given to the Darcy/Lizzy relationship build-up. Also, Darcy's first proposal took place at Lady Catherine's house, when the other members of the party had just gone to dinner, and were presumably waiting for Darcy and Lizzy! Unrealistic!

Having said all that, there were parts of the play that I enjoyed and thought were very good:

• Costumes!
• The relationships between the sisters. I liked the way they related and reacted to one another non-verbally in the background. For example, Jane comforting Mary after her disastrous singing episode.
• The weird hopping dance at the Netherfield Ball performed by Lizzy and Darcy (and others). I know this was another example of a reasonably serious scene played for laughs - but I did actually find it genuinely funny. It was just quite strange and original to see them moving about like that. Was it an actual Regency-era dance? 
• Mr Bennet trying to leave the room as unobtrusively as possible while Mrs Bennet tried to convince Mr Collins that Lizzy would indeed marry him.
• The final scene in which different characters spoke aloud the letters they had written to other characters, who read and reacted to them non-verbally. For example, Lizzy reacted to a letter from Lydia, in which Lydia told her how much she was enjoying life with Wickham...but that they didn't have much money, and could Lizzy please send her some? 

Lastly: why did they call Anne de Bourgh 'Annabel'? I didn't get it.

Next: The Two Gentlemen of Verona