Horseracing 0 Theatre 1 Plaza Suite 3

September is undoubtedly my favourite month. The sun, when it shines, is rarely too hot and the days still have a little life in them before the onset of winter gloom. I go on holiday and take in some plays in far off places and the horseracing gives a steady diet of quality. My two loves combine in a veritable feast. Why are feasts always veritable? Discuss.
Can't say the horses have shone though. Or the ones I studiously selected. Ran like drains most of the time. My humour not helped by the fact that my distant brother, who I love to bits, has been knocking them in with an ease that is almost unseemly. He just missed out on the Doncaster St Leger (England's oldest classic) but Ayr Gold Cup - 11/1 winner - and Newmarket's Cambridgeshire were a doddle for him. Prince of Johannes (40/1). Easy. All I get is a 6/1 scrubber in a Class 5 staying handicap at Chepstow or somewhere. But I love it and visiting the unfamiliar payout window a couple of times recently has eased my September racing gloom. I love it when other folks win, especially that brother, but I love it more when I find them. Especially the big races. And they don't come bigger than the Arc this weekend at Longchamp. Will let you know how I, and him in Leicestershire, do.

And they also don't come bigger, in theatre terms, than a new play by Alan Ayckbourn. Saw his latest, 75th, at Scarborough last week. Neighbourhood Watch is not vintage Ayckbourn, too formulaic for me, but it was served up by a super cast who were rich in quirky characterisation. And very topical. Middle class fears of working class, did I say feral, estates twisted to absurdity. Its strengths were how the actors on stage coped with the unseen fears. Its weakness the fact that much of the angst was directed offstage. I like all my Ayckbourn angst locked in the middle class setting of a Season's Greetings, a Table Manners, or an Absent Friends. This play didn't have that attraction but it was still a rewarding couple of hours. But if amateurs are tempted to do it they will need some very skilled actors to make it work.

I am hoping for some of those when I set off for Dunstable Rep's Plaza Suite next week. This is the first play in their film season and, set in a specific hotel room, we get three for the price of one. Neil Simon has frequently been referred to as America's Ayckbourn and it is easy to see why. He has a sharp ear and eye for the idiosyncratic middle class folks of God's favourite country. Should be a treat but, whether it is or not, I shall post something here. Barbara Morton and Julie Foster direct and they have some of those acting heavyweights who, hopefully, will get them off to a good start in my handicap stakes. Didn't get to their season launch so in no postion to suggest the likely winners of this six play theatrical race. Not that it matters. My brother, if he had attended, would have done a better job on the pre season selections. And he only likes horses.

Plaza Suite by Neil Simon
Friday 30th September to Saturday 8th October
Dunstable Rep (High Street Little Theatre)  - 7.45pm

Les Miserables - Empire Theatre Arts

Queensbury West Theatre,
August 27th 2011

*****

Les Miserables is one of those musical blockbusters which must constantly irk and mystify hostile and snotty theatre critics of yesteryear. They almost unanimously slagged it off as a load of pretentious, pop opera, rubbish which did little justice to Victor Hugo’s sprawling masterpiece. Twenty five years on and it is still giving out the old two fingers all over the world. The public loved it in 1985 and they still do. And it is easy to see why. The main characters are richly and simply drawn. The condensed narrative is surprisingly easy to follow. And the through composed music has a lyricism which is both heavenly and stimulating. In short, it knocks spots off most other modern musicals. If Boublil and Schonberg’s genius wasn’t fully recognised all those years ago, it certainly is now. Wherever it plays Les Mis and its barricades continues to pack them in.

But if the show is virtually gilt edged as an audience draw, it stills needs careful packaging and theatrical punch to make it the experience it deserves to be. Especially so if you are doing it as a summer school project in two weeks and involving sixty plus performers from ten to late teens. I am not sure whether directors Lucy O’Hare and Ashley Mead need certifying or canonising, but in Dunstable last week they proved that anything, given commitment and talent, is possible. However you look at it Empire Theatre Arts gave us an awesome production. The bare black stage and the copious use of atmospheric smoke effects allowed for seamless scene changes, and Fred Rayment’s superlative use of lighting did the rest. Easy really when you know how. I may have quibbled slightly at the over reliance on that smoke in act one, but in the revolutionary act two it really came into its own. Never more so than at the ghostly disappearance of the magnificent, essential, barricade. Dressed with the dead and dying and brilliantly lit by Mr Rayment you just gasped at the perfect theatricality.
Given such astute packaging this show would have been an unqualified hit even if the individual performers had only been so-so. I mean, sixty youngsters. There are bound to be a few who drag it down. But whether by luck or sheer genius the two directors put together a team without a single weak link anywhere on the stage and firmly placed this production in the ‘magnificent’ category. Acting was truthful and sincere, ensemble playing was clever and disciplined, and much of the singing lifted and stirred this ageing, cynical, heart. A lot of credit for the latter must go to Graham Thomson’s sensitive and skilled musical direction, including evocative keyboards, but those in charge need the ones who strut the stage. And Miss O’Hare and Mr Mead combined the talents so well I am seriously thinking of taking up stamp collecting or fly fishing. I left thinking I couldn’t do that. Not in two weeks. Not ever.
With such a show you probably don’t receive any thanks for singling out any individual performer. You can’t mention them all and those neglected may feel they had less to offer. It ain't true folks. From the boy who constantly got slapped on his innocent head to the raucous lovely ladies of the night, all played their part. But of the main players Stuart Grey impressed for the maturity of his fugitive Valjean and Ollie Slade for the commanding presence of the nasty, but ultimately troubled, Javert. Katherine Knight touched the heart for the sincerity of the doomed Fantine and Tara Patterson and John Douglas were the superbly grotesque Thenardiers. I cannot pay Mr Douglas’s portrayal any higher accolade than that his brilliantly costumed scoundrel landlord invoked memories of Alun Armstrong. If he doesn’t think that is praise he should look him up. Imogen Gurney as Little Cosette and Katie Ross as the elder version both acted and sang with exceptional beauty, and James Clark and Jahale Juredini Mcleod showed in a multitude of roles the depth of this large cast.
Much of the action takes place against the background of a student uprising in 1832, hence those barricades that everyone knows so well, and Cameron Hay’s portrayal of revolutionary leader Enjolras particularly impressed. His character does not have any of the individual focus that much of the narrative allows (wot! no girlfriend) and he can easily get lost in all the action. But Mr Hay acted his part beautifully and died even better. His barricade sprawl is to be savoured by those who like such things. His companion in student arms, Jamie Pritchard as Marius, turned in a beautifully crafted performance and was well matched by the enchanting acting and singing of Pari Shahmir’s thwarted Eponine. Her ‘On My Own’ was exceptionally fine and one of my numerous highlights.
So I name you all these characters and don’t spell out a plot which has more strands to it than Agatha Christie at her convoluted best. Suffice to say it is all to do with the fugitive Valjean and the folks he gets involved with on his travels. Including a liberal helping of riots to give Les Mis a topical ring which, in truth, is always with us. But I quite like this sort of rioting from our youngsters. I may be old but I can engage with the young, especially when they are as talented as Empire Theatre Arts. I wonder what those pipe sucking, slippered and ageing theatre critics think in their old folk’s home. ‘Les Miserables? Won’t run for more than week.’ The world, over twenty five years, and Lucy O’Hare and Ashley Mead over three nights in Dunstable, have proved them spectacularly wrong. Magnificent. Haven’t I said that somewhere?

Empire Theatre Arts - Les Miserables (Schools Edition)

Magnificent. Two directors, two weeks rehearsal, and sixty or more kids from ten to late teens belting out this wonderful musical. A standing ovation from a packed house on the night I went and well deserved. How Lucy O'Hare and Ashley Mead did it I have no idea, but this was definitely the positive side of youthful rioting. In a cast full of super performances Ollie Slade's Javert, John Douglas's Thenardier and Pari Shahmir's Eponine took my highest honours. But there was class throughout, all wrapped in beautiful music, imaginative staging and terrific lighting. My head ached in appreciation. If you saw it you will agree with me. If you missed it you will regret it. As I said, magnificent.


Queensbury Hall, Dunstable.
August 25th - 27th

Full review to follow.

Dunstable Rep - Season 2011/2012

One of the highlights of my reviewing days for the Luton News was following that classy lot at the Little Theatre in Dunstable. From Rebecca to Home and beyond they gave me an enormous amount of theatrical pleasure. With directors such as Alistair Brown, Alan Goss, Peter Carter-Brown and the late and much missed Robin Hadcroft and Mona Norris, they turned out style by the bucketload. Okay, they occasionally threw in the odd turkey but that just added to the fun. But those mentioned, and a few more, regularly combined with a stream of first rate performers to set the standard by which I judged most other local companies. At their best only St Albans Company of Ten came anywhere near them on the local scene. Which, on the basis that you are allowed to chastise those you love, I occasionally stuck in my unwelcome hostile oar. I always want the Rep to be good.
Those sentiments apply in spades to the new season. Having directed one of their last season plays (I humbly declare an unseemly interest) I have seen their set up from the other side. Believe me it is a heady roller coaster ride but one rich in professionalism. They put on plays quicker than some of us change our underwear. And from September 2011 to July 2012 they are churning out six film related stage offerings. From Neil Simon's Plaza Suite to John Buchan's Thirty Nine Steps they are doing everything celluloid. They won't have the immortal Robert Donat (google him) but I am sure they will line up a list of directors and performers who will bring their own special slant to an interesting season.I will stick my interfering neck out and say that I reckon that audiences are in for a treat with this imaginative sextet.  And being a keen racing man I intend to set up the 'Dunstable Rep Film Season Handicap Hurdle' with a prize for the best.
But it will be a handicap, so trainers and jockeys are all important. Some actors will carry more weight than others. Literally in some cases. I shall therefore sneak into their season launch party to assess the likely form and then talk to my local Ladbrokes. Purely in the interest of theatre. Even I can get better than 15/8 on one of those Browns. Roy Hall

Plaza Suite (30/9-8/10) - Christmas Carol (25/11-3/12) - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (20/1-28/1) - Blithe Spirit (16/3-24/3) - The Talented Mr Ripley (11/5-19/5) - Thirty-Nine Steps (13/7-21/7)

Still Life (ACT Company) - Full Review

Dunstable Little Theatre - 21st July 2011

*****

Noel Coward’s ‘Still Life’ strikes me as both a minor masterpiece and, in the best sense, a museum piece. It is a masterpiece for the sheer economy of its emotions, unbridled lust and love overlaid with middle class conventions. A museum piece for its tight station cafe background of rigid rules and regulations. The central characters of medical doctor Alec and suburban housewife Laura may be reliving and regretting their offstage trysts over luke-warm tea and cafe pastries, but it is the cafe proprietress who lays down the laws by which we should all live. Closing up at ten o’clock, not serving alcohol before six, and certainly no unseemly cavorting between male and female staff on railway premises. One could not help thinking that the troubled adulteress Laura admired such pre-war society rules, and by the end was silently wishing she had obeyed them.

Hang on I can hear you saying, this sounds like that film where middle aged housewife Celia Johnson relieved her dreary life by having illicit afternoons with Trevor Howard’s dishy doc, after he took some grit from her eye. And that film, as we all know, was ‘Brief Encounter.’  Never has the detritus from a train made such filmic history. And it still echoes today, getting on for sixty years later.

But in the film the gaiety of Laura is expanded and the staff in the cafe merely interesting and amusing background. The short play on which it is based, deprived of the dramatic and romantic focus of an unfulfilled woman, has a much more even and desperate feel. The lives of the richly crafted cafe folk both underpin and illuminate the desolation of the two nice and gently mannered folks waiting for the 5.43. It is as if Coward is saying that passionate dramas are being played out everywhere and in the most prosaic settings. If only we knew where to look.

I willingly throw my theatrical hat into the ring when I say that directors Alan and Megan Clarke brought all this to riveting and dramatic life. Over five short scenes we experience the discovery and ramifications of an unexpected love and the fleshing out of the anonymous people who provide its background. Elliott Lawrence and Liz Caswell were perfectly cast as the ultra respectable Alec and Laura with the doomed desire. Mr Lawrence played his part with an impeccably straight bat but was never less than sincere and truthful and if Miss Caswell was occasionally too lugubrious, she rivetingly painted a picture of a fragile woman drifting perilously out of her depth. There aren’t many laughs in their relationship and you couldn’t help thinking that such decent folks shouldn’t bonk away from home.

These classy central performances were backed up by some cracking support from the inhabitants of Milford Junction’s railway cafe. Natalie Gordon, with an over refined accent which could easily cut through house bricks, was a magnificent Myrtle Bagot. She lorded over all in the cafe, and when she offered her cakes and pastries fare you could never be sure whether you were getting the crown jewels or something from the sewer. Most of her attentions were on her long suffering assistant, an excellent not too bright Beryl from Stephanie Overington, and Joe Butcher’s nicely judged and slightly lecherous ticket inspector Albert, but all customers and staff knew who ruled this particular roost.

Only the last scene failed to totally bite. There is an underlining cruelty in the chance meeting of Laura’s chatterbox friend at the moment of the lovers’ final goodbye. Miranda Larson looked and sounded stunning but her Dolly Messiter lacked the relentless delivery necessary to notch up the subtle drama of quiet suffering. But that is a small point in an overall super production. Realistic cafe set pitched at the right level of ordinariness, excellent ensemble playing, and train sounds to satisfy even the most pernickety of anoraks. Throw in songs from Al Bowlly and Peggy Lee and there weren’t much to quibble about. Alan Clarke’s ACT Company only pops up on odd occasions. Judged on this little gem they should do so more often. Roy Hall

Still Life - ACT Company

Alan Clarke gave us a little gem of a production at Dunstable Little Theatre this week. Noel Coward's short play spawned the famous tears and trains of a 'Brief Encounter' that has lingered in the memory of film buffs for over fifty years. No one can eclipse the performances of Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard but this doomed love affair of Alec and Laura suffered not one jot for it. From the grit in the eye to the final farewell we were gripped by the consummate and sincere performances of Elliott Lawrence and Liz Caswell. All takes place in a realistic station cafe setting, splendidly managed by the magnificent Myrtle of Natalie Gordon, and rarely a false note was struck throughout. Excellent cast, nice thirties songs, and train sounds by the bucketload. Only an hour but an absolute joy.

Runs to Saturday 23rd July 2011. Full review to follow.

Steel Magnolias - Griffin Players (September 2008)

My last review for The Luton News before concentrating on the horses. No bricks.

Steel Magnolias

Griffin Players
Luton Library Theatre

12^th September 2008

***

It is a little known fact, or if it isn’t it ought to be, that I spend a fair bit of my time in ladies hairdressers. It doesn’t make me an expert in the ways of feminine inner sanctums but it does mean that Robert Harling’s Steel Magnolias does not take place in completely undiscovered territory. Harling’s characters wisecrack their way through eighteen months of a tearful journey alien to my refined Harpenden lot but, in other respects, the soul bearing haircuts have many similarities.

On Gary Nash’s realistic and splendid set, cleverly creating wide angled spaces on a stage not renowned for depth, the staff and customers intertwine emotional baggage and off stage action. The life outside this salon is rich with gun toting husbands, unsociable dogs, and dead or distant partners, and the hardest trick for the company is to engage you in those offstage lives and simultaneously dazzle with onstage rapport. They didn’t totally succeed, not least because Mr Nash’s directorial skills fell a little short of his excellent designing talent, but the evening was never less than enjoyable and entertaining.

Lorna Trapp was the sharp and clear Truvy, a proprietor convinced that there was no such thing as natural beauty, and Sophie Singleton-Sells a beautifully crafted assistant. Miss Sells’ Annelle made the greater journey of development, and was therefore the more enriching, but both actresses skilfully underpinned the microcosmic life in this Louisiana salon. Denise Bryson (aggressive and moneyed dog lover) and Elizabeth Rhodes (widowed cake maker) provided the comic relief but, two sides of a similar coin, only Miss Bryson truly grabbed the part by the throat. Sharp on cues and timing, this actress injected pace which the otherwise likeable Clairee of Miss Rhodes could not match.

But the heart and essence of Steel Magnolias is the relationship of the ultimately doomed Shelby (Kate Johnson) and her frustrated and unstable mother (Nuala Prior). All the others are merely amusing and interesting satellites in their slowly developing tragic journey. Both the portrayals were fine, Kate Johnson a particularly perky daughter besotted by pink, but their central scene of medical revelations was both muted and unfocussed. I liked the ebb and flow of the lives of these Louisiana ladies; I just wanted a change of dramatic gear and tone. But if the well flagged dying failed to induce the promised tears even this old heart was impressed by skilfully controlled final scene speeches from a cast in the shadow of Shelby’s death.

The Griffin Players gave us that splendid set, underpinned by realistic sound effects from Graham Elliott and effective lighting from Andrew Maxted and David Houghton, and Truvy’s hairdressing salon was a small world it was a pleasure to inhabit. If Sophie Singleton-Sells' journey from dowdy assistant to frizzy haired bible thumper took much of the acting honours all played their part, even down to convincing southern American accents. I reckon my Harpenden ladies, gun shots apart, would have quite liked it.

Roy Hall