Second Nature

I distinctly remember my first encounter with a regular mobile phone user. It was in 1999 in a cafe on the livelier side of Covent Garden. The actor I was having lunch with was bewailing some tragic dating crisis and I began to realise that every time he referred to the conversation with his date, his thumb mimicked a texting motion.  Of course, when I asked him if he realised he was doing it, he denied it but for me, it was the first instance of how communications technology was surreptitiously embedding itself into our natural lives.

 

When I moved to London in 1996, mobile phones were still fairly alien to me. Sitting on a bus and suddenly hearing the woman three seats behind burst into conversation still gave rise to universal tutting from other commuters. Oh how things have changed! And boy, have we changed with them? Smart phones are now ubiquitous and access to email and social-networks 24/7 has become an invaluable work-tool for any on-the-go professional. Can you imagine any one of your theatre colleagues - backstage or onstage -  not owning a mobile phone? 

 

And yet thankfully, some will say, the use of this device is still proscribed in theatres. Rightly so, perhaps, but the truth of the matter is that the use of mobile phones is rapidly becoming second nature. In a theatre interval, the rush for a quick fag has almost been superseded by the rush for a signal to check email or deliver an #intervaltweet.

 

If this is the case, how long will it be before an enterprising producer spots a gap in the market and creates theatre where use of mobile phones is allowed or even encouraged? Where people don't have to unplug from their social network in order to engage with others?

 

Kerry Michael over at TRSE pioneered a Twitter-zone in the venue, reserving seats specifically for those who wanted to tweet during a show. At the time, it was a brave move and whatever the results of such a practice, it had to be considered a step forward in the evolution of the theatre-goer. 

 

Some people will undoubtedly see this as a slippery slope, but every time I hear a story about mobile phone use in an auditorium, I think back to Edinburgh last year. During a particularly precarious piece of circus theatre, an usher surreptitiously stepped-up to stop a woman from filming the event on her phone. The woman was gripped and ignored the usher's hissed instruction to cease and desist. Suddenly she realised that the usher was trying to attract her attention and she turned to reveal not a mobile phone, but a glass of wine in her hand. 

 

More recently at the Theatre 2016 conference, Ian Strickland of Charcoalblue dared to stick his head above the parapet and suggest that Smartphones could be integrated into the theatregoing experience. Why not? Let's face it, there was a time when women actors, naturalistic acting, artificial light and perspective were all considered daring innovations in theatre production. Is there no way Smartphones could help people engage in theatre too? #justsaying

 

Paul Vale

The Landor

As is so often the way on the fringes of journalism, the news of the Landor's closure came as no surprise. Not because I am some economist with insight but because I'd heard reliable gossip, off the record, and digested the information accordingly. Amid the venues obituaries that have since sprung up over social media, I personally can't help but feel less than nostalgic about the building. It is, after all, a function room above a pub and if the brewery who run it lack the foresight to include a theatre in that space, then it's their loss. I refuse to mourn the space and shall loose no sleep over the fact that I'll probably never set foot in the over-priced boozer again in my life. I have no reason to and even less inclination. 

For me theatre has always been more about people than buildings. Had somebody told me that Rob McWhir, Rob Cook or Andrew Keates were retiring from theatre, that would be cause for misery and mourning. Had somebody asserted that Richard Lambert had decided not to produce his annual Lambco Festival, then that would be a shame. Good god, I had some wonderful times at the Landor but it had very little, if anything to do with the building.

What I witnessed there - laughter, tears and talent will continue to be provided by the same people who generated such emotions. I'll just experience them in a different environment. 

Grief and Support

It's been a busy time and in many ways very distressing. At an international level, the horrific events in Orlando almost seemed too surreal to comprehend. Homophobia and historic gun laws combining to devastate the lives of, not just the victims, but their families and loved ones. The outpouring of grief and support, not least from London, re-affirmed my belief in the human spirit. Anyone who opposes gun control legislation in the US has blood on their hands. End of. 

Then just as the world is reeling from these senseless deaths on the other side of the Atlantic, this ridiculous EU Referendum took an unexpected and mortifying turn, as MP Jo Cox was shot and stabbed by a right-wing extremist outside the library in Birstall, West Yorkshire. Amid one of the filthiest, scare-mongering, mud-slinging campaigns I have witnessed in my adult life, it left me and most of UK in shock. Never mind the suspects mental health, his comments have established a political motive for her murder, rendering the act an assassination. This is the sort of fuck-wit behaviour that happens in other countries, not in the UK. There are politicians out there with blood on their hands in the UK too, it seems.

By Computer you say...?

While I don't subscribe to Sky Arts and therefore missed Computer Says Show, I did catch one of the opening nights of Beyond The Fence, the musical that was created by computer - mostly. The show itself wasn't bad at all and the subject matter - the Greenham Common Women's Peace Camp - is definately worth the musical treatment. It's just that this treatment seems damnably old-fashioned. In fairness, human authors Bemjamin Till and Nathan Taylor tried their best to stay within the limitations of the computers, accepting so much and then making informed choices but to be honest, one has to question the relevance of the whole project. 

The computer has been fed with the story arcs of 1696 musicals - who knew that there were that many?! - and from this, a plot suggestion, period and geography could be mapped out. The humans then turned to google to discover their setting. It's all very daft; a genuinely Big Bang Theory excercise that any student of musical theatre might pop out without resorting to state-of-the-art software or a PhD. 

To be honest, the result isn't half bad. It's certainly flawed and I was tempted to question these flaws at the Q&A last night but it was getting far too late and their is no point in questioning creatives still glowing from the euphoria of an opening night. If Till and Taylor had presented this show as their own work, I would have suggested that it was over-produced at the Arts, considering the stage it was at. I'd expect to see this at the Landor, Union or perhaps the Southwark as a work in progress, rather than a finished piece. it's ending is schmaltzy, despite some pithy scenes and there's an over-reliance on comedy in the second act that doesn't always work. The love-story is wholly underdeveloped so that when Mary accepts Jim's offer of togetherness, it grates against the solid independence she has shown throughout the show. Also, at Kim's death, Mary disappears inexplicably leaving Margie to comfort the mute George, simply to shoe-horn in her own song In Our Hearts. 

This is a female-heavy show and while the characters are well rounded, I wonder what the computers said about the lack of male voices in song and story. Also, a very minor point, Helen talks of failing at ballet as a child, until she sees Xanadu and gets roller skates. Xanadu was released in 1980 and as she is celebrating her 21st birthday in 1982, it will have made her 19 years old and not the ballet school drop-out we are led to believe in her song. It's a minor point but a reference that fans will pick up on, I'm sure. 

I imagine the excercise in Computer Says Show makes for interesting television but it certainly hasn't produced a hit musical. It's not a terrible show and I think the Greenham Common story begs a further, more imaginative treatment than any computer might offer. 

Fifth Of A Sixpence

I treat the news that Half A Sixpence is being revived at Chichester with mixed feelings. The original by David Heneker and Beverley Cross is a minor favourite of mine, particularly songs such as Buy Me A Banjo, The One That Got Away and of course, Flash, Bang Wallop. So quite what Stiles, Drewe and Fellowes are going to do to it, I’ve no idea. The additional songs that Stiles and Drewe brought to Mary Poppins allowed the film musical adjust fairly smoothly to the stage but they are in themselves pretty unmemorable, save perhaps Practically Perfect. 

The truth is that Half A Sixpence is already a decent musical, with a serviceable book and score. Fellowes ability to paraphrase The Great War in Downton Abbey to just three episodes will probably mean that the book will be effectively edited but why can't Stiles, Drewe and Fellowes adapt their own version of HG Well’s Kipps? Why piggy-back on the work of others? It’s getting initial billing as the ‘Flash Bang Wallop Musical’, so they are even marketing it based on an original song.

I wonder if this will become a new trend? Let’s hope not.

Dolly Fever

When talking about commercial theatre I occasionally refer to the bubble that we live in in London. A figurative one that is, not physical. I occasionally find myself waxing rhapsodically about venues such as the Landor, Union or Southwark or performers such as Julie Atherton or even Mark Rylance when a blank look appears on the faces of those around me. The following however surprised even me.

When the news that Bette Midler was to take on the role of Dolly Levi in a revival of the classic Broadway musical Hello Dolly! my personal Facebook and Twitter feeds juddered in a frenzy of excitement and further-casting speculation. Opening in March 2017, the show has already weathered the storm of many Broadway and West End revivals including – in what is possibly a record as far as musicals go – an all-Black cast led by Pearl Bailey and Danny La Rue cross-dressing to play the famous matchmaker. The exuberance of Hello Dolly! made it a key cultural lynchpin to the Disney movie WALL-E and the Streisand movie is solid-gold – the last of the big MGM musicals with a cast of 1000s and no-doubt a cavalier approach to budgets.

However when I went home recently, none of my gay or stagey mates had heard about it. Not a sausage. I was breaking news that was already a week old. So much for the age of communication!

This New Diet

So I’ve been on my diet for just over a week now and it’s proving to be quite a challenge – to eat enough! On the good side, it’s teaching me to be a little more adventurous with my cooking. As facile as Joe Wicks’ recipes and assumptions are when it comes to my knowledge of cooking, his lairy videos #Leanin15 recipes provide a spark of inspiration for meals. Essentially his is a Low Carb, High Fat diet, combined with higher carb meals following High Intensity Interval Training. 

To be honest, circumstances have not allowed me a proper training regime yet, but I have upped my swimming and even begun pushing toward HIIT – in this case 500m then rest for 60s x 4. It’s a slow process of habit breaking for me, but the results of this diet have been particularly good and I’ll squeeze back into that suit for the wedding if it kills me! Not my wedding, I hasten to add but Gareth’s.

Not Quite Home

Last week I was asked to review a show in my home town. Well, not quite my home town I should say but its much richer neighbour, Cheltenham. My visit was to the Cheltenham Everyman to catch the opening of the London Classic Theatre’s production of The Birthday Party. Now I have to admit that while Harold Pinter is not really my cup-of-tea, I understand his import in the new wave of dramatists that were nurtured in the late 1950s and 1960s.

His voice must have jarred enormously with those used to listening to the works of Rattigan and Coward but the cut and thrust of Pinter’s dialogue paved the way for Orton, who is one of my favourite dramatists. In fact, there is an eerie similarity between Sloane’s relationship with Kath in Entertaining Mr Sloane and Meg’s relationship with Stanley…anyway, I digress. The point is that I was in Gloucestershire again and visiting the Everyman for the first time since the early 1990s.

 

I have to say, in keeping with Cheltenham’s reputation as an exclusive county-town, the Everyman is a beautiful theatre. A Matcham no less, and the renovations that had taken place about five years ago only served to enhance its beauty. Also, being a regional theatre, it has the added luxury of plenty of leg-room (in the stalls at least) so I could practically stretch out and watch the play unfold at my leisure. 

 

The problem was that due to the nature of the touring set, this intimate play seemed to be about 100ft away, atop a raised platform on the already raised, pros arch stage. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the theatre was half empty and quite frankly, understandably so. It was a fairly miserable night and you’d have to be a major Pinter fan to fork out good money to see this. The production lacked excitement and energy but I also couldn’t help thinking that it seriously lacked contemporary appeal. 

 

Many of its cultural references would probably seem alien to young audiences today and whereas Orton motivates his game of cat and mouse with sex, Pinter’s equally dark sport uses nostalgia as his most subversive weapon. It’s a good play but one that a director could easily get wrong. However to be honest, my main concern was that unless this was a set-book, where will the London Classic Theatre find its audience? Not in Cheltenham, that’s for sure. In fact, the original production of Pinter’s The Birthday Party ran for only 6 performances before closing to mostly vile notices. This production is playing at Cheltenham for only 4 nights, before moving on to a laudably extensive tour around the UK. Hopefully both the production and the audiences will flourish a little along the way.

 

In A Bumper Year

As 2015 drew to a close, I noticed many of my fellow critics and bloggers were drawing up lists of the top shows that they had seen that year. I had planned to do this anyway so dipping into my computer files, the first thing I did was pull out anything I had seen with a 4* rating and above.

Thankfully it whittled down the list a good deal but I couldn't help but notice that 8 of the shows that I'd reviewed for either The Stage or Musical Theatre Review were musicals. Not just musicals, but new musicals. Most of them original and all of them appearing for the first time in front of a paying audience.

When I realised this, I wrote them up joyfully for Musical Theatre Review here.

This is why it really shocked me when the Off-West End Awards announced its finalists for 2015. The new musical category featured only a single nomination. It strikes me that neither the assessors nor the judges at Off-West End are able to fully commit to judging on this category, otherwise there would have been several other names in the final.

Either they are not visiting the venues - I notice that the Southwark Playhouse gets the most nods in the 2015, which is also where the sole nomination for Best New Musical took place - or they are simply not interested in engaging in what is a rich source of new writing.  

My list includes the London Theatre Workshop, Above The Stag, King's Head, Pleasance, Landor, Arcola and the Theatre Royal Stratford East - hardly out-of-the-way venues! The subject matter varies from broad satire to high drama and in 19 years of reviewing the fringe, I don't think I've seen such a bumper year for new musical theatre writing.

The Off-West End Awards may fulfil a need to celebrate the best work on the fringe, but here I think the award is sadly lacking. If it can't judge a category properly then remove it from the list. I have been advised that the Off-West End Awards are about to launch a Best Musical Director Category -  the first of its kind. This is a huge step forward not least for musical directors but I do wonder how evenly can and will it be judged?

 

 

Bitchin' About Comedy

I suppose comedy, like all other forms of entertainment, is a matter of taste. I remember distinctly being invited by my old neighbours Celine and Don to watch Bottom with them on TV - they had just got it on DVD. I couldn't imagine anything worse but accepted the invitation out of curiosity to see if there was anything I was missing. There wasn't. Despite the dubious comic talents of the late Rik Mayall, Bottom to me it was a 'lowest common denominator' comedy. A burlesque of fart jokes and violence that simply didn't appeal in the slightest.

To Celine and Don, who were French and Dutch respectively, it was the funniest thing on TV. Bizarre. The point is that comedy is invariably different things to different people and much the same is true of comedy plays. When I first heard that the next Above The Stag play was Alright Bitches, I felt that I knew exactly what that might entail. In truth, anyone might guess the measure of a play entitled Alright Bitches and I wasn't far wrong in my assumption. Martin Blackburn's debut play may not break any new ground but it does make me laugh. A stream of bitchy one-liners inhabits a fairly thin plot and while its structure, journey and resolution are sound, it's all a little formulaic.

 

This is however Blackburn's first play and to be honest, he has a gift for snappy comic dialogue. There are plenty of new plays out there that drudge on incessantly down an enlightening road of misery but just because the subject matter is an issue worth addressing, doesn't make it a good play. I see plenty of new drama every year, some of it thrilling, some of it less so. The new comedies I see each year you can count on one hand. It's one of the reasons I embraced Jon Bradfield and Martin Hooper's annual pantomimes Above The Stag. Those guys have a talent for intelligent comedy that I really wish they would explore more often than once a year. It's all a matter of taste of course and I know that some people may approach Alright Bitches as a piece of fluff writing. I beg to differ and resign myself to the fact that this may be the only new piece of new comedy writing I see until I get to Edinburgh.