All posts by admin

Review Játékok – Three Breaths, Pierre-Laurent Aimard, Wigmore Hall, London by James Ellis 

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

It’s rare to see anyone make it to one hundred years old. Even for composers, this is such a non-occurrence, other than Elliot Carter and Leo Ornstien (who amazingly lived through three centuries) that it should always be cause for celebration. György Kurtág, the Romanian composer can now be added to this short list, as he turned a century old back this February. 

Perhaps best known for his Játékok, or ‘Games’, this is spiralling catalogue of mostly piano music spanning over fifty years. Consisting of over four hundred movements, Kurtág was adding to its mass as near as 2021. What I do remember fondly is the full, mesmerising performance done at the Royal Academy of Music in London in 2024, Joanna MacGregor played with twenty piano students. This was an all-day affair and roughly the music of Játékok lasted six and a half hours. 

What has felt more exhausting was the three concerts at Wigmore Hall this weekend, spread out over a near twelve-hour period. Pierre-Laurent Aimard, who was a pupil of Oliver Messiaen, has chosen his selection from this epic piano saga, with musical choices of Bach, Beethoven and Schumann at each step, or as billed here: ’Breath’. Arriving on stage for the morning concert, he appeared aloof, as if not wanting to be there. This was, of course, the starting section with ‘Bored’, where it is notated to walk down the keys and play what is seemingly a random set of descending notes and then back. 

It is the humour that shines through in these first few ‘Books’, Pierre is joined by the striking Lorenzo Soulès, who joined in the boredom and then duos on one piano, famously from Kurtág often played live with his now late wife Márta. A ‘Quarrel’ movement saw them pushing the same repeated keys, cleverly matching a vocal argument of ‘always having the last word’. Of note are the many Bach transcriptions, we sadly did not hear some of my personal favourites though ‘Gott, durch deine Güte’ held the atmosphere of serenity for a few minutes. Most of this first hour saw thumping tone clusters, humour abound between both players and a highly irregular, distilled sound world unfurling out of the piano. 

We heard many numerous parts of this gigantic work, and the little slivers of performance are always a delight. It’s such a shame these die down as the books go on. In the second set at 5pm, Pierre returned solo (same for the third) and had further violent tendencies in their noise and impact. Birthday greetings and a homage to Janáček are present, as the Beethoven Bagatelles often cleansed the pallet after the angular abstractions. Pierre remains a fascinating pianist, in whatever he plays. His power over the keys remains masterful, the graceful consideration for every note with his own eyebrow raising, mouth chewing is for every bar. The Beethoven here is also really strong, I didn’t think this would work with the rest, but they actually did. 

By the 9pm concert, a profound fatigue had set in. The addition of an upright piano on stage, Kurtág’s admiration for the instrument is proven with lovingly sombre writing for it. His use of the middle peddle creates a serene and soft palette, pianissimo indeed. The Schumann here is exquisite, especially the well regarded ‘Im ruhigen Tempo’ from Gesänge Der Frühe. This is some of Schumann’s finest writing and is just so touching on an upright. Little to no ‘performance’ in these later ‘books’, though some warfare still prevails, the reconciliation and memories are the names of movements, aside continuing dedications and poetry. 

Had these concerts been played slightly nearer each other, I may have had the stamina for them, even after hearing the whole work back two years ago. I was not the only one who struggled, as some chose to contribute their own ‘snore games’ during this last concert.  

Fine playing as ever and a stellar reminder of one of the great living composers. 

Review Lane 7, Cardiff by Yasmin Begum

 Cardiff’s varied and vibrant nightlife has received an upgrade with the arrival of Lane 7, an independent boutique bowling and entertainment concept. Taking over the venue previously occupied by Par 59 at the site of Imperial Gate on St Mary’s Street, the venue closes the gap between nightlife and high-end gaming.

Stepping inside the venue at Imperial Gate reveals a carefully curated experience spread across three distinct levels. While there are traditional bowling alleys in the city of Cardiff, this may be the first luxury, high-end and bespoke bowling alley. A number of lanes are found on the ground floor, not too far away from the karaoke bars and a photo booth. Far from a traditional entertainment center, L7 pairs bowling with a myriad of wide-ranging traditional and new arcade games. For example, there’s the opportunity to play more traditional games like Mortal Kombat and Mario Kart, but there’s also a tech-driven shuffleboard, interactive darts, “big putts” mini golf, and beer pong. For sports fans, large high-definition screens are integrated within L7 throughout the venue, with the opportunity to turn the venue into an ideal hub for live sporting events.

 Within the nightlife of Cardiff, L7 is a very, very welcome addition.  A robust menu of soft drinks and mocktails highlights the venue’s accessibility for non-drinkers and different communities. While most venues in Cardiff revolve around alcohol, L7 has a truly inclusive approach in its outlook, atmosphere and warm welcome. This is a deliberate choice from the venue, offering a late-night experience in the city where most events and activities focus on alcohol.

The menu offers a huge range of street food, designed to be shared in groups between games. And, unlike other high-end bowling in the city that are adults-only: people under 18 can be on premises until 7pm. This makes it a rare hybrid destination in being able to cater to communities, families and young people. It has a cross-generational appeal, something that is lacking in the city centre.

 L7 is open until 12am from Monday to Wednesday and closes at 2am from Thursday to Sunday. It’s a long overdue alternative for Cardiff’s late-night crowd that doesn’t require you to leave the city centre. Long live L7!

Review The Seven Deadly Sins & The Human Voice, Charing Cross Theatre, London by James Ellis

Photo credit: Adam King

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

I did not have on my bingo card this year London based opera with New Zealand musicians. This paring of Weill and Poulenc is bold and may not have paid off. But I imagine local opera companies were in attendance to check out the talent.

Talent there is aplenty, soprano Katherine McIndoe who has two demanding roles (Anna and Elle) to tackle in both operas. Facinging both musical and operatic forms, she did well in both, vocally content and nimble, though the Human Voice may have faired better for her. The shopping list of sins may not have been dramatically fished out in this production but with the double pianos of Adrian Salinero and Elspeth Wilkes, it was tight and fun listen to. Less of  lecture from Brecht, as the written element is obvious in this messaging. Both operas were translated into English (W.H. Auden Chester Kallman and Joseph Machlis) and clearly audible.

Herry Grigg and Phil Wilcox play the absurd, kitchen sink parents in the Weill. Both vocally solid, paired well behind a cloth for a shadow effect at times throughout. Behind said curtain is percussionist Kepa Malgorzata not seen for most the piece, her banging on drums and tam-tam strikes and a lovely cabaret feel to things. This was musically great, but the production needed a bit more panache to it.

You dont need to do much with The Human Voice. Poulenc’s one hander, based on the Jean Cocteau play has never lost its impact. Director Alejandro Bonatto has kept it simple and the pull is still there. This is always a sad thing to see and hear, Poulenc’s ear for sentimentality whilst also capturing lush chords and harmonies, is a fine thing.

Our lady is off and on her home phone, at the mercy of operators, bad signals and a distant boyfriend. Somethings never change! Wilkes returns on the keys and is sharply grounded to the score. Some okay-ish black and white film is seen towards the wrap up and Salinero pops back, now on flute matching Wilkes, playing the trenchcoat boyfriend ending this relationship.

This was eventful, but more risks should be taken. 

Review Cooper The Musical by Charlotte Hall

 out of 5 stars (3.5 / 5)

Cooper the Musical is a funny and emotional show about the magician and comedian Tommy Cooper as he reflects on his whole life in the final moments of his death. Stefan Pejic, writer, stars as Tommy Cooper himself, and he is joined by a cast of Welsh actors including Rhian Morwood (who plays Dove), Olivia Snowdon (Mary), and Mark Cainen (Miff, his manager, and Cainen is also the producer), among other actors who multi-role.

In the foyer before the show starts, you can buy fez hats as well as programmes, and when you walk into the theatre, it plays playful, funfair, seaside type of music, which is similar in the interval but slightly fuller. That, combined with the set, which has playing cards, both Aces for the first act which change to Queens for the second act (the significance of that I don’t know, but the attention to detail is a nice touch), stacked chairs downstage, a basket containing props, and magician’s wands either side of red curtains with black tassels, reminiscent of the iconic hat he wore, immediately got you immersed in the mind and style of the comedian’s life we were about to witness.

Going into this I didn’t know what to expect, as not having grown up in the 60s and 70s when he was around and not being alive when he died, I didn’t fully realise his impact and how popular he was until doing research earlier that day. From the clips and information I found, I learnt about his jokes as well as his relationship with his wife, his assistant, and alcohol. But I didn’t know about his private struggles, who he was when he wasn’t the act he portrayed to the world, to the audience. No one knew. Not even my dad, who watched the show with me and did grow up in the 70s. But I wasn’t disappointed.

The show opens with a voiceover announcing Tommy Cooper on stage along with quiz show music, and four women come on dancing. They leave the stage but he doesn’t appear. The voiceover announces him again and the women repeat the dance before leaving, and so it is a clever opening at setting the comedic tone.

There are a lot of Cooper’s iconic jokes, and Pejic does an outstanding job of embodying Cooper with his mannerisms, his distinct voice, and the style of the entire show encapsulates not only what the audience see of Cooper and his caricature, but more intimate things like his anger, drinking, the ups and downs with his wife Dove and later Mary, his assistant.

This was a very original concept and it was a very fitting decision that the musical was put on in such an iconic and intimate Welsh theatre with Cooper being born in Caerphilly himself. I also feel like it can be taken and adapted to a slightly larger theatre space, not necessarily the size of the Grand but bigger than the Arts Wing, go on tour, and possibly even taken to London, off West End. With how well Tommy Cooper is known, especially with a slightly older generation than mine, I think a lot more UK audiences could have the opportunity to enjoy this show too.

There were a lot of great moments, and overall the production was very funny as well as emotional and really gave you an insight into the man the audience knew as well as the man behind the fez. There were highs and there were lows. However, I felt at times that it was clunky. I appreciate it was a preview and the first night, so not all things will have been worked out, but the physical transitions between scenes were awkward and took longer than necessary, and the writing between scenes felt out of place. It felt like a lot of the scenes individually were good, but they were awkwardly fit together to try and tell a narrative. The second act felt a lot smoother than the first, but it still felt like the writing could have been polished and every scene thought out more carefully. I think they still have some work to do before performing this show again, if they wish to do so.

The songs also weren’t memorable. Parts of them were okay, but I like to come out of the theatre having them stuck in my head, and I couldn’t remember a single one. I also struggled understanding everything that was sung, although the dialogue was a lot clearer.

But I think it was overall a good production. Not excellent, not perfect, but it was a true portrayal of a man’s life behind closed doors and all the actors were fantastic. If you know about Tommy Cooper even a small amount, I think you’ll enjoy it. Just like that.

Review Parsifal, Bayreuth Festival, Germany by James Ellis

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

After a week of travels in both Austria and Germany, I would find my journey’s end with Parsifal in Bayreuth. For me this is one of Wagner’s best bit of music. A personal and often enticing affair dripping in Christian imagery and themes. Having heard this live twice only in concert form (Marinksy & Opera North), a chance to finally see it staged was vastly enticing. 

After two days of The Flying Dutchman and Rienzi in Bayreuth, I was impressed with most things about both productions. This Parsifal broke the cycle in an odd, fruity production which left me wanting more. Jay Scheib has a bold vision for these four hours, heavy in faith and ceremony. The set design by Mimi Lien would evoke a red light district, Fallout, saint’s relics and florescent tube lighting. Video work by Joshua Higgason would see vast IMAX screens the back of the stage pulling focus on this large stage to the characters in question, live streamed for great effect. An extensive scene of the filmed dressing of a wound, is bloody and has left some viewers nauseated.   

Costumes are a variable: army camouflage, Summer of Love, gowns, t-shirts and more. ‘Remember Me’ is seen on the back of Parsifal for the third act, a nod to memorials in the R’n’b world. This story of the Welsh knight Perceval (the story is here set in Spain), sees him go from boy to man, via the quest for The Holy Lance, which pierced Christ’s side. Amfortas is given the same wound as he also got struck but it, via Klingsor the wicked knight who went off the rails. Kundry, a sorceress at times aids and in other moments torments these knights, via the hand of Klingsor. The Holy Grails also plays a part in the story, the redemptive qualities of Parsifal through his trail by fire to adulthood involve the sacred artefact as well as the Lance. 

I did not find everything to glue together here very well. Actors and the chorus did not always have a lot to do, even in the elongated Transformation Music and the finale. The live video might have been one of the more strong accepts of this staging. Klingsor’s lair looks more like a slither of a Soho nightclub, with flashing harsh colours and a huge crack in the wall. The Flower Maidens sent to woe Parsifal are hippy chic, rich in reds, pinks and greens. The first act sees a towering beacon, illuminated for dramatic moments not really suggesting more than a lighthouse. It just feels like there were ideas for the sets and costumes without any real connecting tissue to it all.  

As the singing went there was little to be upset about. As Parsifal, Andreas Schager proved valiant and rich in the role. Heavy going by any standard, the metamorphosis between these acts sees more vocal drama, leaps and sweeping proclamations for the part. Amfortas, the wounded elder knight, was Michael Volle, who in this take appears to have a severe case of hernia of a wound. A lot of suffering comes out of this role, as he is in pain for 95 per cent of his time on stage, this goes into the vocal line and Volle seeks great depths and finds jewels. Gurnemanz from Georg Zeppenfeld is always a lovely part, here no different in the inclusion of the young Parsifal to their rituals, singing the Good Friday Music with elegance and vigour. 

Titurel, Amfortas’ father is the offstage Vitalij Kowaljow, burring during the arriving ceremonies, as his son writhes in agony. Klingsor is the fabulous Jordon Shanahan and is owning every moment of this. Clad in heels, a salmon suit and foil helmet the ludicrous nature of this version is not a divergence and is fun. Also nicely delivered thanks to the de Sade like take on part by Shanahan, a shame we only see him at the start and end of fact two. Miina-Liisa Värelä had a little iffy start as Kundry, another ocean like character. She really gets into her alluring goth girl outside Blue Banana in act two, with the dress sense. Act three sees her sing very little (two lines), so the second act gives Värelä daring drama in the seduction of Parsifal to betray him. Impressed by her efforts, the audience found her also very effective. The Flower Maidens and Celestial Choirs are choral highlights in an opera hard to stage, here in Bayreuth who could do these passages better? I doubt anyone. 

Said choirs moved me near to tears, the orchestra bounded through this bulk of an opera with reverence and power. Conductor Pablo Heras-Casado did not rush this work and it may have felt a little long in parts, but often the momentum was there and it glistened. 

So, I head home with a broken back due to the famously stiff seats (they make you sit bolt upright) and some of a militant and highly unfriendly audience (some were lovely, honest). I may not return again to the Bayreuth Festival for these reasons, yet the stellar musicianship and artistic displays are always worth the journey. 

Bayreuth Festival will continue in 2027. 

Review Rienzi, Bayreuth Festival, Germany by James Ellis 

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

One thing Wagner made clear. There would never be performances of his Rienzi in Bayreuth. An earlier work from his canon, there have been versions with various lengths and changes. For the 150th anniversary of the creation of the Bayreuth Festival, ‘Rienzi, the last of the Tribunes’ has been seen and heard for the first time. It’s all very exciting.

I knew not the music, bar the loved overture (the first ever piece of music at the Sir Henry Woods Proms) which can easily been forgotten out of the rest of the canon. There is a shadow which looms over the score, not quite the Wagner most know, the latter darker ventures. There is a leaning on Grand French opera, Wagner’s teacher Meyerbeer a good example of this style. The story is also relatively simple, even with the typical Wagner length of four hours (there appears to be a version as long as The Mastersingers of Nuremberg – 4 hours, forty minutes). Rienzi rises in popularity; this is actually a person from history: Cola di Rienzo from the 14th Century. 

He advances in the polls and earns the Tribune position in Rome. Through dodgy dealings and a lot of Shakespearian murk, there is an inevitable to the story. History never changes. Through this brand-new production at the festival, we get a contemporary twist with touches of Trump, the Titus film from Julie Taymor, Arturo Ui and a whole lot of spin. Given the change and setting of now, it’s an absorbing, at times fun and intimate outing. Though the scale of this opera rivals much of his later, moody output, Wagner creates many vast plateaus for the chorus. They own many wads of this opera.

Directors Alexandra Szemerédy and Magdolna Parditka (also making set and costume) have taken risks and set it in what appears to be today’s world of piercing political duality. The extensive overture sees Rienzi lose a child of his, this grief then permeates the entire opera, tragically effecting his career. The elongated ballet sequence in act two, a staple of Paris opera (with even Wagner’s cheeky changes in other opera caused riots), is a joy here. I didn’t expect this serious audience to be laughing the way they did, as said ballet was a wonderful send up of Bayreuth itself. 

The chorus watch vaudevillian parody of most of Wagner’s operas. Some of the chorus mock us as an audience running about at intermission trying to use the toilet, eat pretzels and make sure their heels stay on their feet. I loved all this, even through its silliness. The event that this was at in the opera would suggest a Met Gala do. Many statements about power and wealth are dripping in this. Its Video work frequently alludes to fascist imagery and news reels. Severe concrete and militaristic attire are the main stays of the set and dress.  

As for the cast, chorus and orchestra, everything is matched near perfect to perfection. I’ve spoken of the many passages for the chorus, who’s emotional depth is touching, nearly profound. Other highlights include the harps (Wagner uses them so scarcely), bells and even an organ into the fold. The orchestra, under the baton of Nathalie Stutzmann glistened and glowed in this mighty piece. This may not have been written for this famous opera house, but the sound thanks to the impeccable acoustic and the finest musicians made this a treat to the ears.

Review Der fliegende Holländer, Bayreuth Festival, Germany by James Ellis

 out of 5 stars (4 / 5)

Photo credit: Bayreuth Festival

It’s been a whole twelve years since I’ve attended the Bayreuth Festival in Germany. Seen as a pinnacle for opera lovers world-wide, tickets are highly sought after. There are always scandals, I’m thinking back to the head turning Ring Cycle I saw back in 2014 directed by Frank Castorf. This year’s Ring staging saw booing and disapproval due to the use of Artificial Intelligence, though I’ve heard it before and it does not take much to set them off. There are bold stagings and then some! Yet with seats that are notoriously uncomfortable (as Richard Wagner intended) and audiences on the much stricter side, could I make it through the other side? 

This Flying Dutchman is the second this year for me after the Welsh National Opera fare. Here tackled by Dmitri Tcherniakov, get gaze upon a town of limited al space and constant atmosphere. Sets by also by Tcherniakov would conjure up the model sets to a British viewer Trumpton, moments are highly cinematic a la Ari Aster’s Hereditary. The celebratory scene in the conservatory dining room is vivid, and a snapshot of how this story might have gone down today. 

Directors attempt to changes accepts of an opera now. Whilst there are risks here, they work for the most part. The cascading overture features a woman and her child shunned for her fling with a worker, ending with her hanging herself on stage. This was all in the first ten minutes. The ending would drastically tweak things, though it’s clear the curse has been lifted, even with only one half of the tragic duo of Senta and The Dutchman getting a shock death. There isn’t a clear Nordic setting in this outing, some costume choices would evoke the contemporary scene, and the workers don’t appear to have any specific profession. 

The singers and musicians are on vividly top form. World class even. Conductor Oksana Lyniv is a rare lady conductor and listening in the pit (which is famously blocked from the audience’s sight) the storm and intrigue, jealousy and redemption all shone through. The chorus are also exceptional, their reputation also unbounded. With the gaggle of sewing women (here they are instead having a singing lesson), male workers with little to do, or the ghostly Dutchman’s crew, they adapt into these roles too easily. 

Captain Deland is a near to perfect Mika Kares, a bass-baritone has been excelling with his Hagen at Bayreuth. He can make things softer, the gloss of the voice often rings. Senta is Elisabeth Teige, with parker coat and coloured highlights it’s an extremely stroppy take. Her gutsy aria is earthy; her range is considerable and not without colour. Eric, the eye rolling ex-lover of Senta is Benjamin Bruns. This helden-tendor role is intense for its brevity, the constant bickering with Senta make him very one sided. Bruns takes on the role with a breeze and flow. 

Mary the mistress in sewing expertise is given more of a role than just one scene she appears. Nadine Weissmann’s mezzo is friendly, if not always digestible. Her silence in the dinner scene (she is cleverly in a relationship with Deland) speaks volumes and her actions in the finale are what made this new take kin the part quite devastating. 

Kieran’s Carrel is the sleepy Steersman who in the opening act loiters around a bar with other “sailors”. Some raising vocals make this small part often cherished. The third act would see Carrel encouraged frippery conga lines (WNO also did similar) and staggered off perhaps to drink some more. Carrel is controlled in the role one that opens the first and third act.

Nicholas Brownlee is The Dutchman. I was unsure at times if he worked int the role. The audience thought so and I came round topped the idea. In stature and expression of voice, he is the man, demanding drama in phrasing and more tender moments for smoother appeal. I was taken with the response tonight; the audience loved it. That’s what I really wanted to hear. Now to Rienzi & Parsifal!

Bayreuth Festival continues till Aug 29, 2026.

Review Chole Petts & Kristen Schaal: The Legend of Crystal Shell, Roundhouse, London by James Ellis

 out of 5 stars (3 / 5)

It’s the voice really. The voice of Kristen Schaal which has frequented extensively upon acclaimed animation and comedies of the past fifteen years. Bob’s Burgers, Gravity Falls (a personal fav) and The Flight of the Concords are all in Kristen’s payback catalogue, impressive for their clout. In this pseudo one-woman show (in which case it is not), could her delightful and approachable demeanor fair well on stage?

At the Roundhouse the warm up was good fair. Chole Petts was more than chuffed to write the wrongs of lesbians and ladies who love the beautiful game of football. Her brief set had hearty laughs and was a great example of a comedian encasing the audience with well crafted jokes. Masculinity was a main stay, just how to be so and how the toxic side has never really gone away. Some riffing of American patrons was swell and over enthusiastic Sweds also got a ribbing. If stand up is an art form (which it is), then Petts has got the mastery of it.

Kristen’s piece: The Legend of Crystal Shell (is that a riff in people mispronouncing her name?) Was silly, lude, touching and through it all not quite hitting the mark. Her ballet loving character Crystal is revealed to be half human (not a centaur) with a good bit of pacing in revealing the joke. Crystal years to meet her daddy horse again after years. John Robert’s (again, of Bob’s Burgers acclaim) is revealed as this father figure with plenty of surrealist horsey humour. Looking like a strange mix of country singer, punk, 50s dandy and other bizzarities, Roberts got swift vocals and musical numbers verging on the outrageously hammy, with ending riffs done with aplomb. This sleazball father might just save this daughter after alland aid in rites of passage, if only there was little more of a narrative fibre to it all.

Thankfully, there was not mass of crowd work here, something that comedians like Gianmarco Soresi lean on far to heavily. That’s a different sort of show at least and very popular. Kristen gets laughs and I did join in. I would not boast huge belly busters but they were triggered on several occasion. Her dry, delightful tone is often enough to lead in punchlines, one liners and interpretive dance moves parodying Swan Lake, might be the true highlights. Directed by Frank Smith, this had all the hallmarks of an sweet oddity, yet even the songs by Big Black Delta (also fun and idiosyncratic) could not save this from middle of the road in a one horse town…..

Review The Odyssey – Broughton IMAX, Tuesday 4th August 2026 by Simon Kensdale

If I’d been stuck on a desert island with only Charlize Theron wearing a designer swimsuit for company for seven years, I’d throw a raft together and push off into the sea, so I understand Odysseus, but does Christopher Nolan? 

In Homer’s first epic, The Iliad, men feature as warriors willing to die in the pursuit of glory.  If their lives are to be short, they will live on in their reputation for heroism, Achilles being the prime example,

In The Odyssey Homer presented a different type of man – one forced to go to war, but one who wants to survive, who longs to return to his wife, his family and his homeland.  In direct contrast to Achilles, Odysseus’ focus on going home once he has done his duty defines him.  It carries him through any number of obstacles, disasters and distractions.  and means he succeeds, even if it takes him ten long years.

Christopher Nolan’s film version of The Odyssey suggests he has confused the epics.  Because it allows him to make an action movie, he stresses Odysseus’ capacity as a warrior chieftain rather than his capacity as a lover, husband and father.  His Odysseus (played by Matt Damon) is obsessed with Troy rather than Ithaca

Nonetheless, from one angle, Nolan’s treatment is a success.  Wikipedia provides the details.

In the first month after the film’s release, it may have grossed as much as $1 billion worldwide, a good return on a production budget of $250 million.  In France, it was put on in 730 cinemas and attracted an audience of nearly a quarter of a million on its opening day. The income will drop off in the months to come but that hardly matters.  Nolan had a good day at the office. 

The secret behind this financial success is not hard to find.  Of his $250 million production budget, Nolan may have spent half on marketing.  This reminds us how modern culture is driven by economics, not by a need for glory or love.  The basis of creative activity is now the bottom line, not the aesthetics.  The consequence is today’s cultural products are disposable.  Nolan’s work will soon be forgotten, drowned under the constant mass production of other films and the tsunamis of other visual media.  This won’t concern Nolan himself because he has achieved his fifteen minutes of fame and the fortune he has amassed in the process will do very nicely, thank you. 

In terms of absolute success, it is worth remembering though the source material his film muddles through was composed approximately 2,700 years ago and is still very much in circulation.  Indeed, Nolan’s film has driven up its sales in bookshops and online.  So there’s a contrast.  Getting on for three millennia ago, one man (probably) using the most basic of tools – pen and paper – organised a set of myths and legends to construct something meaningful and way beyond the likes of Nolan.  The delivery of Homer’s epics only required a lyre and a good singing voice, not a multi-million-dollar technological studio system or an IMAX cinema.

Beyond the momentary hullaballoo of financial returns and audience numbers, there is not a lot to be said for Nolan’s film. 

Given the scale of The Odyssey’s marketing budget, criticism is redundant.  What is said about it will not influence the numbers of people seeing it.  But the comments that have been made show where we are with contemporary critical appreciation.  Broadly speaking, those who like escapist family entertainment suitable for twelve-year-olds are in favour and those who like reading and thinking are against.  Thus, Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian gave The Odyssey five out of five stars, calling it “a film with thrilling ambition, boldness, seriousness, generosity and flair”.  (Seriousness, really?) Mary Beard, on the other hand, described it as “an Odyssey without the sex”, lacking the “elusive… humour” of the original.  (Again, Wikipedia + AI.)

Gushing in The New York Times, Manohla Dargis described the film as “an anomalous big-studio entertainment that Nolan has filled with stars and polished to a high gleam, turning a 3,000-year-old poem into a smart, thoughtful film with Old Hollywood allure.”  (Thoughtful?)  But Emily Wilson, whose 2017 translation may have been a resource for the film, decried the film in the London Review of Books for lacking “psychological, emotional, political and ethical depth”, labelling the writing “abysmal”, and arguing that it had “nothing convincing to say” about the Odyssey’s major themes.

Wilson was certainly right about the writing of the dialogue.  I went along with the not-too-gruesome action scenes, and I even appreciated some of the IMAX boosted special effects.  Polyphemus the Cyclops was scary (until he shrank to a third of his size when he lay down to sleep).  The giants were impressive killing machines, even if they looked like refugees from Star Wars.  The wooden horse was memorable too, even if it fell over because its wheels had come off.  I felt as if I was on a boat during the voyages.  The ancient world costumes were good – they had probably come out of studio storage warehouses.

But where it all fell apart – absolutely – was the dialogue.  I winced every time there was a conversation.  What got said ejected me out of the escapist historic situation and brought me crashing back to twenty first century reality with a jolt.  Odysseus talked to Calypso (Charlize Theron) as if she was his therapist, not his mistress.  Telemachus talked like a frat boy, looking forward to seeing his ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ reunited.  When his dad did eventually turn up, he was as pleased as any dad might be on graduation day.  Nolan simply couldn’t handle the tension of the ultimate family reunion.

The conversational disasters were not the result of the use of American accents.  They were simply the product of Nolan’s fashionable reliance on action to move the story on and to impress his target audience.  He wasn’t interested in using dialogue to reveal individual psychology or explore complex dramatic situations.  He wasn’t going to waste time on intimacy or sexual activity.  Odysseus and Calypso wander along the beach not even holding hands.  There is no chance of Odysseus having a fling with Circe, either, although he is said to have fathered at least one child with her.  And no sooner is he reunited with Penelope (after an absence of twenty years) than the two of them are getting on to a boat to sail off and pay their respects to the dead.  The huge and completely unrealistic fight with the suitors is no substitute for the meeting of a husband and wife after twenty years (a lifetime in the ancient world).

Despite what Manohla Dargis claims, you don’t think about a man’s singular need for his family and his home as you emerge from the IMAX with your ears ringing.  You don’t wonder if the arguments and ideas of the ancient story are still valid.  And despite Peter Bradshaw’s review, the only serious thing about this Odyssey is the profit Nolan has made.  

Instead, what goes through your mind is how you can make unconscionable amounts of money by resorting to a lavish collage of Hollywood clichés and peopling it with a cast of celebrities.  You can update Ursula Andress’ bikini scene, using Charlize Theron as Calypso; you can squeeze in pop star Zendaya as Athena (even if you can’t think of anything for her to actually do); you can have the rapper Travis Scott (without his signature Nikes) as a bard; you can even revisit Batman with your Agammemnon.  You can invoke the ‘Old Hollywood’ ghosts of Charlton Heston and Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor.  You can even reference Bruce Lee and all those endless kung-fu show-downs where the hero dispatches a minimum of thirty adversaries.

The one thing you can’t do with all the resources at your disposal is create a work of art.

Review Owl at Home – Theatr Iolo at Sherman Theatre by Billie Ingram-Sofokleous

As someone who spends much of my time thinking about stories: How we tell them, who gets to access them, what makes them unique and why they matter.

I often leave the theatre asking myself one question: How did this make me feel? With Owl at Home, the answer was simple. I felt held.

Theatr Iolo has long understood that theatre for young audiences should never talk down to them. Instead, Owl at Home invites us into a gentle, imaginative world where stillness becomes a strength and curiosity is something to celebrate. Based on Arnold Lobel’s much-loved stories, the production reminds us that the smallest moments can often carry the greatest emotional weight.

From the moment the performance begins, George Williams fills the stage with warmth, humour and boundless curiosity. His Owl is thoughtful, eccentric, playful and quietly vulnerable. He finds joy in the everyday, creating adventures from ordinary objects and conversations from silence. It is a performance built on trust; by trusting children to understand emotion without needing everything explained, and trusting adults to reconnect with the child that still exists within them.

Williams’ experience in clowning shines through every movement. His physical comedy is beautifully judged, allowing the humour to emerge naturally from Owl’s curiosity rather than from exaggerated performance. He throws himself around the stage with incredible commitment, making every stumble, leap and playful interaction feel effortless. Every inch of the performance space is explored, and every prop has purpose. Nothing feels decorative or unnecessary; each object becomes another opportunity for storytelling, surprise or laughter. It is a masterclass in making a seemingly simple set feel limitless.

What resonated most with me was the production’s commitment to visual storytelling. As an audio describer and storyteller, I spend a great deal of time considering how stories can exist beyond spoken language. Owl at Home demonstrates this beautifully. Movement, rhythm, music and expression become languages in their own right, proving that powerful storytelling is as much about what we see and feel as what we hear.

Music gently threads the production together, adding warmth without ever overwhelming the story. Since leaving the theatre, I have caught myself repeatedly singing Cosy, one of the show’s original songs. It is deceptively simple, wonderfully memorable and perfectly captures the feeling of Owl’s world. To me, that says something about the quality of the writing and composition. The best theatre doesn’t always leave you quoting dialogue; sometimes it leaves you humming a tune that quietly follows you home.

The production also reminded me why I continue to advocate for accessible, inclusive arts experiences. Accessibility isn’t simply about removing barriers; it’s about creating opportunities for everyone to feel welcomed into a story. Before the performance had even begun, this commitment was already evident. A resource table outside the auditorium offered audiences access to song lyrics, a stage layout and background information about the production. These thoughtful additions allowed people to familiarise themselves with Owl’s world in advance and demonstrated that accessibility had been considered as part of the creative experience rather than added afterwards. As someone working in accessibility, these details mattered, and they reflected the care that ran throughout the production.

There is a tenderness running through the entire performance. Owl spends time alone, yet the story never frames solitude as something to fear. Instead, it becomes a place where imagination flourishes. At a time when so many of us feel pressure to move faster and do more, Owl at Home gently reminds us that there is beauty in slowing down, noticing our surroundings and finding comfort in our own company.

Watching the audience was one of the evening’s greatest pleasures. Children laughed freely, leaned forward with anticipation and became completely absorbed in Owl’s adventures. Adults smiled just as often, perhaps recognising something of themselves in Owl’s quiet rituals and gentle optimism. It is rare to witness a production that speaks so honestly across generations without compromising either audience, but Theatr Iolo achieves exactly that.

The production plays 15 – 30 August 2026 Edinburgh Fringe, find out more here

Image Kirsten McTernan