What does it mean for a writer to be great? Is it measured by the amount of work they produce, or its quality? The way they are perceived by others, or how they see themselves? Perhaps ‘greatness’ is just the lie of venerating a ‘chosen’ few; a lie which inch by inch lifts that glass ceiling ever higher.
By these metrics, a voice as brilliant as that of Dorothy Edwards (1902-1934) is lost in the maelstrom of literary machismo. The black sheep of the Bloomsbury Set, she was raised by firebrand radicals in South Wales and yet somehow dislocated from her working-class roots (she attended Howell’s private school, if on a scholarship, and later studied Greek and Philosophy at Cardiff University). In the London scene of literary greats like Virginia Woolf and E.M. Forster, she was the ‘Welsh Cinderella’, raised from the pits of the Valleys into dazzling notoriety in her own lifetime – but after her death, her books went out of print and her suicide note became her most cited work.
It is this complicated legacy that Gary Raymond’s new play sensitively examines. Directed by Chris Durnall, ‘A Beautiful Rhythm of Life and Death’ starts at the end of Dorothy Edwards’ life and moves backwards through twin storylines: in the past, Dorothy (Angharad Matthews) is inducted into London’s writing elite by David Garnett (Jâms Thomas); in the present, actors Meg and Byron, also played by Matthews and Thomas, debate how best to bring her story to life.
The play’s title – taken from a line in Winter Sonata (1928), her only novel – is an apt description of the drama, which toys with musical and emotional tempos. Matthews and Thomas are captivating, playing a convivial game of cat and mouse in which you are never quite sure who is hunting who. Thomas is equal parts charming and chilling as the Svengali-esque Garnett, who always seems to place himself physically higher in the space than his ‘ingenue’. While he might have benefitted from the same costume flourishes given to Dorothy (e.g., adding braces and a waistcoat for extra texture), Thomas’ performance is nothing short of transformative.
Matthews is radiant as Dorothy, a flame who refused to dim her glow. There is a quiet defiance to her performance that embodies the stoic passion of Edwards’ heroines; women who were pushed to the margins in the interwar period. She was an outsider even among the bohemians of Bloomsbury, whom another famous Dorothy (in this case, Parker) said ‘lived in squares… and loved in triangles’. Dorothy’s affair with a married cellist, her engagement to her Philosophy Professor, working as live-in carer for Garnett’s son: all of these relationships blur boundaries; triangles on triangles, like the sonata form which underscores Dorothy’s work. Even the stage – a square room with its triangle of wooden decking – plays with geometric shapes. The fact that it is designed by Matthews means that we are watching two hidden architects at work.
And she pulls the strings from the very start. The live score by the luminous Stacey Blythe manifests Dorothy’s melodious thought processes: but as Matthews descends the steps for the first time, she slams down on the keys. This is her story, after all – at some points, she strides out in front of the audience and stares us down, as if daring us to forget it. Raymond’s soulful script, and Matthews’ lyrical performance, convey Dorothy’s abiding love for words: their codes and cadences, the way that just 12 notes and 26 letters can capture all the beauty and chaos of the world.
Durnall’s direction is a live if invisible thing: kinetic and coy, like the current that pulls a river. David and Dorothy circle each other, dynamics shifting, power crystallising. The sense that she was always thinking, always writing, with pen in hand or not, is ever-present, especially in the vibrant second act. Writing is her pole star: while people flit in and out of her life, that love never leaves her. Company of Sirens have worked their magic once more, and never is this clearer than in the exquisite closing scene, in which Dorothy finds true synthesis with another Welsh wordsmith (Glyn Thomas, author of The Dragon Has Two Tongues). It is an effortless coda that leaves Dorothy at a moment of pure synthesis. It is a slip of linen on the breeze; a single sustained note, that carries on even when darkness falls.
A Beautiful Rhythm of Life and Death is produced by Company of Sirens in collaboration with Chapter and Arts Council Wales, and performs at Chapter through 3 June. There are BSL-interpreted and audio described performances, and one matinee: more information and how to book tickets here.
Whether it’s Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman, Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law, or even Basil and Dawson from The Great Mouse Detective, everyone has their own definitive ‘Holmes and Watson’. And I can safely say that, after watching Blackeyed Theatre’s interpretation of the dynamic duo, theirs has become mine.
After his first appearance in 1886, Holmes quickly became a household name. 56 short stories, four novels and countless film, radio and television adaptations later, Arthur Conan Doyle’s iconic consulting detective has become one of the most successful fictional characters ever – so popular that he was resurrected from the dead by public demand!
So who better to tackle one of Holmes’ thornier adventures than Blackeyed Theatre, the Berkshire-based company behind innovative reimaginings of Frankenstein and Jekyll and Hyde – not to mention previous Holmes adventures? Writer Nick Lane (who also directs) navigates smoothly through The Valley of Fear – no mean feat, as it spans twenty years, two cases, and both sides of the Atlantic. Vicky Spearing’s set – a fragmenting skeleton of exposed beams and William Morris-wallpaper, cleverly shifts from fin-de-siècle study to dusty saloon with the help of Oliver Welsh’s clever lighting and Naomi Gibbs’ convincing costumes.
Luke Barton and Joseph Derrington reprise their roles as Holmes and Watson, having first collaborated on Blackeyed’s The Sign of Four in 2018 (For more insight on how Luke and Joseph developed their fantastic rapport, check out our interview here). And what a dynamic duo! Barton is a zesty and mercurial Holmes who positively dances across the stage (at times, quite literally – in one of the show’s most delightful moments, he punctuates his re-enactment of the scuffle by pitching himself across the boards. It’s a ten from me, Luke!) He brings a heroic quality to the role without sanding off Holmes’ rough edges, and his declaration to Watson – “There is no me without you” – is a moment of genuine poignancy.
And it rings true, because Joseph Derrington as Watson really is the perfect counter to Holmes: as steadfast and warm as Holmes is volatile and brash. Watson isn’t a slapstick sidekick here: he’s a partner in (almost) every meaning of the term (and Derrington’s own medical background lends a real authenticity to the good Doctor). Derrington is effortlessly affable as Holmes’ chronicler and companion, and their camaraderie feels authentic and lived-in; there’s a cosiness to the cattiness that reveals genuine affection between them. If, as the characters say, this is their final adventure, then they go out on a high – but I do hope we get to see them together one last time. I dare you to find a better Holmes and Watson after seeing this show.
Meanwhile, Alice Osmanski, Blake Kubena and Gavin Molloy, round out this super-skilled ensemble. Their versatility truly knows no bounds, with Osmanski especially impressive as everyone from a hard-of-hearing housekeeper to a sharp-shootin’ Pinkerton.
Kubena, who thrilled and chilled the New Theatre as the titular Jekyll and Hyde last year, continues to be a captivating stage presence, while Gavin Molloy brings genuine menace as coal-field crime boss McGinty and as Holmes’ most formidable foe (if you know, you know): their confrontation in an art gallery, while brief, is one of the most intense moments of theatre I have yet to experience.
The show has everything you could want from a Sherlock Holmes adventure: packed with twists and turns, it brings the audience in on solving the mystery right along with the characters and keeps you guessing right until the final problem. Whether you’re a die-hard Sherlockian or an amateur sleuth, this is the show for you. Sherlock comes Holmes to roost in Cardiff this week in the last stop of its acclaimed UK Tour, and with only four performances left, it’s an absolute must-see. A whip-smart script and a supremely talented cast make this an adventure for the ages – the game is well and truly afoot!
As Sherlock Holmes: The Valley of Fear comes to Cardiff this week in the last stop of its acclaimed UK Tour, Community Critic Barbara Hughes-Moore spoke with stars Luke Barton and Joseph Derrington (aka Holmes and Watson). Adapted and directed by Nick Lane, The Valley of Fear follows two cases across two sides of the Atlantic and finds Holmes and Watson at a crossroads in their friendship.
This interview has been edited for clarity.
So Luke, you and Joseph first played Holmes and Watson in Blackeyed Theatre’s The Sign of Four a few years ago. You’re now reprising your roles in the UK Tour of The Valley of Fear, Arthur Conan Doyle’s final novel. Where do we find Holmes and Watson when the play starts?
Luke Barton (LB): Things have changed for Holmes and Watson, because at the end of The Sign of Four, Watson gets married to Mary Morstan! In the short stories that occur between [this book] and The Valley of Fear, we learn that Watson has moved out of Bakers Street. He’s set up his own doctors’ practice, and lives with Mary – but he does always seem to return to Baker Street. There’s something about the mysteries they go on that just keeps attracting Watson back to Holmes and Baker Street. So we find Holmes and Watson on New Year’s Day 1895: Watson has come home for Christmas –
Joseph Derrington (JD): And he’s not gone back!
LB: He’s chosen to stay with Holmes instead! Then a mysterious coded message arrives in the post warning them of some harm about to happen to a country squire down in Sussex. From there, they embark on this mystery, and very quickly they go back to what they know best: being a crime-fighting, mystery-solving duo.
I guess a coded mystery message is the best present you could get Holmes and Watson!
LB: Holmes loves it! I imagine Christmas is very boring and sentimental for him but a mystery is like [a gift].
JD: Better than socks!
Joseph, these are two of the most iconic characters in literature. How do you go about crafting that sort of relationship, especially given that you’ve both played the characters before?
JD: I found it quite an easy process. When we first started rehearsals for The Sign of Four back in 2018, there was a lot of discussion about how the relationship between Holmes and Watson should be. Watson was a lot of the time portrayed as a buffoonish character. He’s obviously not as intelligent as Holmes but he’s still intelligent: he’s a medical man, a doctor. We wanted to try and push this relationship where one person is incredibly intelligent but needs one person to channel it. Watson is that person. And when The Valley of Fear came along, we just slipped back into it. What works quite well is that we still speak to each other when we’re not performing in shows! It helps that we like each other.
Do you draw anything from any particular adaptations, or do you leave that behind when focusing on this? How do they play into your process?
JD: I obviously draw off the looks of Jude Law (!) I’d never actually seen a lot of Holmes adaptations, which is probably quite bad! I focused on the discussions I had with Nick [Lane, the writer-director]. I tried to lead in more from the text than from how the character had been played before.
LB: I think for me and a lot of people our age, I was very excited by the BBC adaptation. It was after that version that I went on to read the stories. I think our performance and our production is very much rooted in the original stories and the world of Conan Doyle, and [like] the BBC adaption is done with great reverence to the books. The Victorian world that Conan Doyle creates is quite key to our production, and that was my inspiration as well. There’s something so quintessentially Victorian about Holmes: he is both very much a part of that world but also completely strange within it; he’s very un-Victorian in lots of ways.
Is it important to you to you make him ‘sympathetic’?
LB: Holmes doesn’t care what other people think. But in the job he’s doing, I think he finds [that] emotions and feelings just aren’t helpful, and that’s why he’s described as this unemotional machine. But he is a human being: he just has an incredible capacity to filter stuff out, and that’s intriguing because most of us care what other people think. As actors, we spend every night standing in front of people getting judged by them. You’re always under the spotlight. It’s really refreshing to have a character that can switch that off.
Why is this story so suited to the stage?
LB: There’s something about the larger than life events of these stories, particularly The Valley of Fear, that lend themselves to the theatre. Audiences expect more: we have to go on a bigger imaginative leap. The uniqueness of theatre is that as actors, we sit down with an audience and say: ‘we’re going to pretend we’re these people and you’re going to pretend we are as well’. When you throw in these big characters, like the gangsters and murderers we get in The Valley of Fear, it’s really exciting for an audience. It just allows the imagination to run wild.
JD: I think it also adds to the murder mystery, too: it’s more claustrophobic when you’ve got a mystery and there’s hundreds of people watching you and [anticipating] what’s going to happen in the next hour and a half. Some of the venues we’ve been to in the past, you can see the audience in the front row. We had a floor rolled out and when they’re on the edge of the stage, it does add to the pressure of trying to solve a mystery. No matter how many times we do it, it’s still exciting.
LB: They’re trying to solve it with us: Holmes and Watson are solving the mystery at the same time as the audience. That’s what makes it exciting: you have to figure it out as we do.
Do you find different audiences react in different ways?
LB: That’s the great thing about touring! Like Joe said, we’ve done over 160 shows now, and every night the audience is different: every town, every city, connects and responds to different things. They even root for different characters! And that’s one of the joys of theatre, especially of touring theatre: you go to so many different places, and each one has a different energy.
JD: And while it’s not a comedy, there are funny bits! Nick has tried to keep it very true to the story itself, and it’s nice to see proper Sherlock Holmesians – is there a word for them?
LB: ‘Sherlockians’.
JD: Like Beliebers?
LB: Yeah!
JD: So these Sherlockians are enjoying it even if they know how it ends, because it stays true to the book. It was nerve-wracking to start, [wondering] how Holmes fans would respond. It’s always tricky trying to please everyone – but I think we’ve done it! I’m pleased with it.
The Sherlockians take it really seriously, then?
LB: You’ll not see me in a Deer stalker in this production, but you will see people in the audience wearing one! Plus the full cape, the magnifying glass…
JD: And a lot of moustaches! I’ve seen a fair few – maybe they’re back in…
LB: You know, in the Victorian era, the bushier your beard, the manlier you were.
JD: So I’m semi-masculine, then?
LB: You’ll get there.
Watson is Insta-ready.
LB: You should see him tending that face.
JD: I can’t wait to try and twiddle it.
Only when you’re solving a mystery or being nefarious.
JD: It’s my thinking moustache…
Do you feel you’ve been able to relax into the roles this time around? Or is there something about bringing it back – the moustache, and everything else – that surprised or challenged you?
LB: I did relax a lot more this time around! Like Joe was saying, that feeling the first time around of stepping into the shoes of such brilliant actors, and bringing to life characters people really love, was overwhelming. This time it wasn’t quite as bad. I think what’s been interesting is that Nick really wanted to explore the limits of their friendship: how tricky it must be for Watson to be friends with [Holmes] and what that must be like. What happens if their friendship is tested? That’s been interesting to explore.
JD: For me, the only thing I found tricky was fitting back into the costume after lockdown!
LB: We all did!
I wonder how Holmes and Watson would have coped in lockdown.
JD: They probably would have killed each other!
LB: Holmes would have gone mad. [Luke and Joseph produced a ‘Holmes in Lockdown’ short as a prelude to The Valley of Fear. You can watch the full video here.]
JD: Would Holmes have gone into a Baker Street bubble, or a Mary Morstan bubble?
LB: Definitely Baker Street.
JD: Yeah. That’s awkward!
Why do you feel that Holmes and Watson are still so close to our hearts?
LB: They’re basically the first superheroes! You’ve got a dynamic duo with individual ‘powers’ that complement each other, and they use those powers to serve good: they’re superheroes that are also best friends. But there’s just something about their relationship [that] is so interesting. They understand each other even though they’re complete opposites and shouldn’t like each other. We all have that person we can’t be without – and that’s who they are to each other. The intrigue is the cherry on top.
JD: It’s human nature, isn’t it, to build connections with people? To ask for help when you need it; to communicate, and Holmes and Watson do communicate even when it’s one-sided. It’s the humanistic aspect we come back to.
Have you performed in Cardiff before?
LB: We didn’t take the The Sign of Four to Cardiff, though we did perform it in Llandudno – we’re really excited to come to Cardiff! After 8 months, we’re concluding our tour here so Cardiff is getting our last few performances: as of Friday we’re done.
JD: I’ve been brushing up on my Welsh.
Da iawn!
JD: Bless you.
We can’t wait to welcome you to Cardiff. The game is afoot!
Imrie ydy’r sioe ddiweddaraf i’w ddathlu 50 mlynedd o Theatr y Sherman. A chymaint o sioe yw e! Ysgrifennwyd gan Nia Morais (Awdur Preswyl y Sherman) a chyfarwyddwyd gan Gethin Evans, mae Imrie yw cyd-cynhyrchiad gyda Theatr Frân Wen sy’n teithio i fewn i byd arallfydol o dan y mor – a mae’n anhygoel i brofiadu.
Mae’r stori’n dilyn dwy hanner-chwiorydd: Laura (Elan Davies), sy’n mwyn fitio i fewn gyda’r merched arall yn ysgol; a Josie (Rebecca Wilson), sy’n dawel ac yn difrifol, ac sy’n darganfod ochr arall i’i hun. Nes i’r ddechrau y stori, dysgodd Josie celwydd teuluol a diflannodd hi mewn deyrnas hudolus o dan y donnau. Yna, ffeindiodd hi ferch arall, o’r enw Imrie Sallow, a newidiodd ei bywyd am byth.
Roedd Elan Davies a Rebecca Wilson yn anhygoel. Dalion nhw sylw y cynulleidfa trwy’r stori, a chreuon nhw awyrgylch ddoniol ac emosiynol. Mae’r ddau chwiorydd yn trio darganfod ble mae nhw’n perthyn yn y byd, a phwy ydyn nhw; pwy basen nhw’n hoffi fod. Perthynas y chwiorydd yn prydferth ac yn cymhleth, a roedd yr actorion wedi datblygu cydberthynas cryf gyda’n gilydd.
Doedd y sioe ddim yn troi i bant o bwnciau bwysig fel hiliaeth a rhywioldeb – ond sgript Nia Morais yn teithio trwy rhain yn haws ac yn hardd. Mae’r ddau cymeriad yn trawsnewid a tyfu fyny o’r ur amser: siwrnai anodd yw e, troi i fewn i berson chi ddim yn adnabod. Mae Laura yn ymrafael i fod ei hun ar y tir, tra mae Josie yn ffeindio ei gwir hunaniaeth yn y mor. Y ffordd mae’n nhw’n dangos deyrnas morol yw trawiadol iawn, yn enwedig gyda miwsig awyrgylchol gan Eädyth Crawford (sy wedi neud y cerddoriaeth i ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ llynedd).
Mae Nia Morais wedi consurio byd sy’n realistig ac yn hud: cydbwysedd annodd, ond mae Imrie yn llwyddiannu. Roedd y tim creadigol wedi neud rhywbeth arbennig yma. Dyma sioe am cynulleidfeydd o bob oedran: a gyda chapsiynau Saesneg ym mhob perfformiad, gall siaradwyr newydd a rhai di-Gymraeg mwynhau’r sioe. Imrie ydy antur hudolus ac emosiynol gan cast a chriw dalentog iawn. Mae o amdan sut deallrwydd, cariad a chysylltiad yw’r pethau mwyaf hudolus o bopeth.
When the RMS Titanic sunk on its maiden voyage from Southampton to New York in 1912, it became instantly one of the deadliest peacetime disasters in history. Over 1,500 passengers were lost, and more than a century later, the fate of the ‘unsinkable’ Titanic continues to captivate the world, not least in James Cameron’s multi-Academy Award winning blockbuster that swept the Oscars in 1998. So epic was the film’s success that it (almost) eclipsed an adaptation that premiered on Broadway mere months before: Titanic The Musical, which docks at Cardiff for its 10th anniversary.
With music and lyrics by Tony Award-winning Maury Yeston (Nine, Phantom) and book by Emmy- and Oscar-winner Peter Stone (1776, Woman of the Year), Titanic The Musical follows the passengers of the White Star Line’s fateful ship. Unlike its big-budget younger brother, most of the musical’s characters are based on the real-life people who experienced the tragedy first-hand, from the three working-class Irish ‘Kates’ dreaming of a better life in the new world to the old-money couple who founded Macy’s department store.
It’s an unusual premise for a musical: how could any theatrical show convey the scale of such a disaster on the stage? Titanic achieves it and then some. The original Broadway production won five Tony Awards including Best Musical, Best Score and Best Book – and its easy to see why. David Woodhead’s set is a mechanical marvel while Yeston’s songs are sprawling and lush – when performed by the 25-strong ensemble, the music positively soars. The ship might be the star, but these actors are titans.
Their skill is showcased in the epic opening number, ‘Godspeed Titanic’, in which the passengers board the grand ocean liner for the first time. In doing so, it begins with the same exhilaration with which most shows end – more impressive still, it maintains that momentum. There are exuberant moments like the song ‘Lady’s Maid’, in which the third class passengers dream of new horizons, led by the luminous Lucie-Mae Summer. There are moments of connection, as between Alastair Hill as cheery wireless officer Harold Bride and Adam Filipe as crewman Barrett, where they marvel at how technology can bridge hearts a thousand miles apart. Valda Aviks and David Delve are funny, warm and affecting as the stately older couple who refuse to part. And Barnaby Hughes is fabulous as the haughty head butler while Joseph Peacock adds a cheeky charm as the spirited bellboy.
You might not expect a show about the Titanic to have much happiness, but Director Thom Southerland brings a lovely breeziness to moments of whimsy, like when busybody Alice Beane (a charming Bree Smith) gossips about the blue bloods on board to her loving, beleaguered husband (James Darch, on fine form). Southerland moves elegantly between these moments of delight and the encroaching drama: when the iceberg looms, it does so to the eerie melody of ‘No Moon’ – it’s as unsettling a moment as approach of the shark in Jaws. All credit to musical director Ben Papworth and the fantastic orchestra.
What the show does exceptionally well is prepare you for the coming tragedy without sliding either into maudlin doom and gloom or into ‘nudge nudge wink wink’ clue-dropping. The characters’ moments of joy, love and hope are given real poignancy, especially when you realise that they are based on real-life people and their stories. So when class-defying couple Charles and Lady Caroline (Mathew McDonald and Emma Harrold) sing of getting married as soon as they reach New York, we ache for them. And when Captain Edward Smith (Graham Bickley, masterful in the role) speaks of this being his last voyage before he retires – it gains a greater resonance. So, too, does the Ozymandian epic of ‘Mr Andrews’ Vision’ in which the Titanic’s architect (Ian McLarnon, breathtaking) watches his dreams – quite literally – sink before his eyes.
It also brings new insights into a story you might think you already know. Here, the relentless greed of White Star Chairman J. Bruce Ismay (a delectably pompous Martin Allanson), who scrimped on lifeboats to make room for more higher-paying passengers, may sound horribly familiar to us in our own time. Those who have the most – money, wealth, privilege – will always be the first on the lifeboats. Titanic The Musical gives voice to those left behind.
An unsinkable cast, an unbeatable score, and an unforgettable experience, Titanic the Musical is an emotional triumph of epic proportions – and, like the fabled ship, it must be seen to be believed.
Sweets are miraculous inventions. With a little sugar and a dash of imagination, you can make something magical. It’s the sort of magic that suffuses Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl’s classic tale of a young boy whose life changes when he wins a Golden Ticket to meet the Candy Man himself: eccentric and elusive chocolatier Willy Wonka.
Originally made into the classic 1971 movie-musical starring Gene Wilder, the Leeds Playhouse Production now embarks on a grand UK Tour after successful stints on Broadway and the West End. Directed by James Brining and adapted by David Greig, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is a feast for all the senses! Classic tunes ‘Pure Imagination’ and ‘The Candy Man Can’ sit along sumptuous new songs by Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, the duo behind the musical Hairspray, with orchestrations by David Shrubsole. It now comes to Cardiff’s Millennium Centre, which seems fitting given that it’s the hometown of author Roald Dahl.
The role of Charlie is shared by four actors (two boys and two girls) and was played on the press night by Isaac Sugden. He brings a real warmth to the role, caring and compassionate, and it’s a great choice to turn Charlie into an inventor-type who repurposes lost and broken things. His scenes with the wonderful Michael D’Cruze as Grandpa Joe are some of the show’s best, as are the scenes in the Bucket household. Christopher Howell, Kate Milner Evans, Emily Winter and Leonie Spilsbury beautifully portray the rest of the loving Bucket clan, and also double up as the beleaguered parents of the other four Golden Ticket holders, who are just as delectably loathsome as their sprogs.
And boy do they get their just desserts! Marisha Morgan is on top form as Violet Beauregard a gum-popping poseur rebranded as a sort of obnoxious TikTok star. Robin Simões da Silva as Augustus Gloop, Teddy Hinde as Mike Teavee, and Emma Robotham Hunt as Veruca Salt (stepping in for Kazmin Borrer) bring real panache to their roles, while Ewan Gillies and Lucy Hutchison are delicious as dynamic TV duo Jerry and Cherry Sundae. Whenever each ‘bad egg’ is hoisted by their own petard, you know the Oompa Loompas are on their way for a musical ‘I told you so’ – here, they are reimagined as dancing automatons, lending a steampunk quality to Wonka’s factory that gives it a Metropolis–esque edginess (and nimbly sidesteps the characters’ problematic origins). It’s their scenes that best showcase Emily Jane Boyle’s zesty choreo and Simon Higlett’s costumes, especially in the standout set piece ‘You Got Whatcha Want’.
And you’ll really get what you want with this show’s portrayal of Willy Wonka, played by the sublime Gareth Snook, who really makes the character his own. He’s got more layers than a Wonka Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight: at turns sinister, sarcastic, and sweeter than an Everlasting Gobstopper. Plus, his rendition of ‘Pure Imagination’ was truly scrumptious!
The show is a candy-coated fantasy, featuring eye-popping visual effects and illusions courtesy of Simon Wainwright and Chris Fisher. The way they convey the factory’s myriad rooms, from the chocolate river to the fear tunnel, brings real spectacle to the stage. Choc-a-block with gorgeous sets, toe-tapping songs, and more sweetie puns than you can shake a (candy) stick at, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is pure confection perfection!
Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: The Musical is playing at the Wales Millennium Centre from 3 – 20 May 2023. More information on the show and how to book tickets here.
Review by Barbara Hughes-Moore
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The Golden Age of Musicals was an era unlike any other. From the 1940s through to the 60s, the movies were the place to go for opulent Hollywood spectacle, presided over by Messrs Rodgers & Hammerstein, the inimitable duo behind such classic musicals as Oklahoma!, Carousel, TheSound of Music – and the multi-award-winning The King and I.
The King and I is based on the 1870 memoirs of Anna Leonowens, a widowed governess who was invited to the court of Siam (now Thailand) to teach the children of King Mongkut. The story was turned into a novel, a Tony Award-winning stage play, and a number of films and tv series – but its most beloved incarnation is the glossy movie musical of 1956, starring Deborah Kerr and Yul Brynner (Kerr was famously dubbed by Marni Nixon, who also provided the singing voices for Natalie Wood in West Side Story and Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady). Following a hugely successful revival across the pond, director Bartlett Sher has brought his revitalised Lincoln Center production on a UK tour, starring Call the Midwife’s Helen George as Anna Leonowens.
On press night, Anna was played by cover Maria Coyne, who portrayed the character in the show’s sold-out run at the London Palladium. Coyne brings power and poise to the part, and pitch-perfect vocals that lend a gorgeous crystalline quality to songs like ‘Hello Young Lovers’ and ‘I Whistle a Happy Tune’. She shares a wonderful chemistry with Darren Lee, fabulously mercurial as the King of Siam, brimming with energy and elan in every ‘et cetera, et cetera’.
Their scenes together are the highlight of a glittering production, not least the iconic ‘Shall We Dance?’ sequence which sees the pair twirling around the room in a moment of pure romantic revelry. It distils the magic of the show in a triumph of athleticism, acting and aesthetics – and Coyne and Lee outdo themselves here. They simply couldn’t have been better. The audience practically gave them a standing ovation then and there!
Special mention must go to Cezarah Bonner as Lady Thiang, mother to the king’s heir, and Kok-Hwa Lie as the Kralahome, Mongkut’s Prime Minister, who each bring far more nuance and gravitas than their film counterparts. (Lie and Caleb Lagayan, who plays Crown Prince Chulalongkorn, also have some particularly artful moments of capework). Meanwhile, Dean John-Wilson and Marienella Phillips captivate as doomed lovers Lun Tha and Tuptim, with an affecting rendition of ‘We Kiss in A Shadow’. Meanwhile, Sam Jenkins-Shaw is chameleonic as Captain Orton/Sir Edward Ramsay, and the young cast shine in the delightful ‘Getting to Know You’ and their characterful introduction at the palace.
The lavish score is brought to life by musical director Christopher Mundy and a sublime orchestra. With original choreography by Jerome Robbins, Christopher Gatelli’s dance numbers seamlessly blend traditional and modern styles, augmented by Michael Yeargan’s striking sets and Catherine Zuber’s sumptuous costumes. All the elements combine in the ‘Small House of Uncle Thomas’ sequence, in which Tuptim stages a pointed retelling of Harriet Beecher Stowe’s antislavery novel ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’. Led by Wang-Hei Lau as Eliza, it showcases the ensemble cast at its finest and, even without its deific cameo, is nothing short of divine.
While The King and I hasn’t completely escaped the shadow of its problematic past, it has certainly taken care to move with the times: like its title character, it’s doing the work to change for the better. Sher, the man behind the acclaimed revivals of My Fair Lady and South Pacific, has nailed the classic formula, capturing the feel of the original while letting his excellent cast improve on the rest. Opulence, passion, pageantry, The King and I might be precisely your cup of tea!
The King and I is playing at the New Theatre from 25 – 29 April. More information and how to book tickets here.
For fifty years, the Sherman has made it its mission to be a theatre of Wales and for Wales. In the last few years alone, it has boldly reinvented the work of Ibsen, Chekhov and Shakespeare and carved a space for budding Welsh and Wales-based creatives to shine. Its anniversary year is packed with a triple crown of creative artistry: first there was Ghost Cities, a reworking of Gary Owen’s Ghost City performed and with new material by the Sherman Youth Theatre; coming up in May there is Nia Morais’ Imrie, a Welsh-language odyssey co-produced with Frân Wen; and this month we are treated to Romeo and Julie, which sets its star-cross’d love story in Splott.
Co-produced with the National Theatre, Romeo and Julie is the latest collaboration from writer Gary Owen and director Rachel O’Riordan, the powerhouse creative duo behind Iphigenia in Splott, The Cherry Orchard and Killology. Rosie Sheehy (King John, RSC) is Julie, a budding astrophysicist on the fast-track to Cambridge. Callum Scott Howells (It’s a Sin, Cabaret) plays Romeo, a young single dad struggling to raise both a newborn and an alcoholic mother (Catrin Aaron, flawless). He meets Julie not at a starry party but in the STAR Hub Tremorfa, where sparks fly and fates align. Their chemistry is in the physics and the physical: in Julie’s explanations of quantum theory to a starry-eyed Romeo, and in the brawny balletic interludes that literalise their connection. It’s a muscly, messy love; one that seeps into the cracks.
Sheehy and Howells are magnetic both together and apart. There is a striking synergy between the pair which keeps the audience invested in their doomed love, even as the choices they make turn from the sublime to the ridiculous. Fabulously bolshie and oozing bravado, Sheehy has shades of the original reckless Romeo, while Howells’ performance as the sweet young romantic gives the play its beating heart.
It’s a testament to the skill of the ensemble, and to Owen’s script, that the play is ultimately as comedic as it is tragic. Its distinctly Cardiffian sense of humour finds the light in the darkest of moments. Much of its finest quips can be credited to Catrin Aaron’s aptly-named Barb, who certainly throws around a fair share of gin-soaked jibes. Meanwhile, Paul Brennen and Anita Reynolds complete the thrilling ensemble as Julie’s concerned parents, whose lifelong sacrifices for Julie’s future might be derailed by the choices she’s made in her present.
Owen’s script navigates the thorny complexities of social mobility, working-class aspiration and intraclass conflict: while both teens were born and raised in Splott, Julie goes to a Welsh-speaking comp and owns a laptop, which puts her in a very different social site to Romeo, who is struggling even to afford nappies for baby Niamh.
The set is spartan: designed by Hayley Grindle, it is a black hole of sweeping greys, overhung by a flashing neon constellation, its geometric swirls flashing like comets’ tails. It seems to illuminate two very different futures: is it a prelude of Julie’s bright career to come, or merely the twirling mobile above a baby’s crib? Can we ever reach the stars, or even change our own?
Romeo and Julie is the perfect show with which to celebrate the Sherman’s 50th year: small-scale and specific, yet sweeping and universal, which upends a classic and makes it anew.
The New Theatre is no stranger to spectacle. It never fails to pull out all the stops: in the last few months alone, it’s welcomed huge touring productions of Bat Out of Hell, Mamma Mia and Rocky Horror – but equally impressive are the hidden gems behind the bells and whistles: the chuckle-worthy comedies, the cosy character studies, and shows that excel with only a small cast and a smart script.
Steel Magnolias is one such show. Based on Robert Harling’s original stage play, it was adapted into a star-studded 1989 movie starring Julia Roberts, Dolly Parton, Shirley MacLaine, Olympia Dukakis, and Sally Field. This new touring production is directed by Anthony Banks and follows the lives of six women in a small Southern town in the 1980s. Idealistic Shelby (Little Voice’s Diana Vickers) is getting married, which is the talk of a local beauty salon run by the ultra-glam Truvy (Lucy Speed). Shelby’s plans to have a baby, even with Type 1 diabetes, alarms her doting mother M’Lynn (Laura Main, Call the Midwife). Meanwhile, new-in-town Annelle (Elizabeth Ayodele) conceals a troubled past while frenemies Ouiser (Claire Carpenter, standing in for Harriet Thorpe) and Clairee (Caroline Harker) bicker like Statler and Waldorf.
The cast share a charming chemistry, capturing the catty camaraderie of lasting friendship; it’s a joy to spend two hours in their company. Vickers and Speed in particular disappear into their roles: Speed’s Dolly-isms are uncanny, creating a character whose heart is as big as her hair (kudos to Richard Mawbey’s wig work), while X Factor semi-finalist Vickers – last seen at the New in Dial M for Murder – gets to flex her comedic chops as the stubborn-as-hell Southern belle. Main, meanwhile, gives a masterclass performance of which Sally Field herself would be proud. Harker, Carpenter and Ayodele deliver one-liners for the ages while BSL Interpreter Julie Doyle almost runs off with the whole show. It’s yet another example of how inclusive theatre can enhance the viewing experience for everyone.
When Steel Magnolias premiered on Broadway in 1987, it was unusual for shows to have an all-female cast – in 2023, outside of SIX the Musical, they are still few andfar between. As one of the characters says, “men are supposed to be steel” – but it’s the women who have real mettle. As Truvy says, “The higher the hair, the closer to God!” – and her salon does become a sanctuary: a confessional, an altar, and a site of communion and community. Steel Magnolias tells us that there’s no such thing as natural beauty, that a dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste, and that the time you put in to cultivating both good hair and good friends is always well-spent.
Steel Magnolias is playing at the New Theatre Cardiff through Saturday 22 April. It’s the last stop on their acclaimed UK and Ireland tour, so make sure to make an appointment at Truvy’s salon! More information and how to book tickets here.
No need to stress if you didn’t watch the TV series. Ballet Rambert’s Peaky Blinders is in a class of its own, unique both as a production and as a dance form. Although danced in the main in contemporary dance style with more than a touch of street dancing – razors, knives etc – choreographer and director Benoit Swan Pouffer uses classical dance moves too. Not only uses them but dares to improvise, building on to the traditional with innovative use of classical ballet moves – with a dancer even performing a plié in mid-air.
Beginning with a brilliantly depicted scene from the battlefields of World I, the ballet moves through the life of one Tommy Shelby down the years, showing through him the ways in which those who fought in this horrendous war were affected throughout their lives even in they survived – a living death, as it were. As it moves on through the post-war years, Tommy’s life segues into a violent world full of murders and gang warfare, with knives and razors flashed – the latter hidden in and the raisond’ètre for – the peaked caps that gave the gang its name. This historically accurate production is not for the faint-hearted, but is well worth taking a deep breath and immersing oneself in what it portrays through dance form.
Creator Steven Knight, who wrote the original script for TV and together with Pouffer, adapted it into dance form, uses a live band on stage throughout for gunfire, air raid sirens and a plethora of music and sounds which works well in tandem with ever-changing themes composed and orchestrated by Roman GianArthur. Natasha Chivers’ lighting aids and abets, of particular note being the scene with searchlight beams and in the second half where an opium-fuelled Tommy descends into a living hell. Benjamin Zephaniah’s voiceover is both necessary and succinct, while set designer Moi Tran’s clever sets lend an authentic and atmospheric touch throughout: a colourful carousel lends a light touch for one scene. Having the dancers on two levels gives additional scope but at this venue means that audiences in stall seats are unable to see the dancers’ legs! Ben Zephaniah’s voiceover is both necessary and well done but pre-recorded vocals – recordings of different tracks which, despite being relevant, are over-loud for much of the time.
The love story between Shelby and his long-time sweetheart disappears and resurfaces throughout lending a necessary lightness of touch, as does a great scene in the second half with dancers dressed in costumes by costume designer Richard Gellar reminiscent of photos of Marilyn Monroe in her early days (a laMoulin Rouge or Talk of the Town for those old enough to remember these iconic London night spots!)
Ballet Rambert is justifiably famed for the high standard of its dancers, and this production underlies this with memorable moves executed with skill. Mention must be made here, in addition to the expertise of the dancers – notably Naya Lovell, Simone Damberg Würtz and Caiti Carpenter -of Musa Motha who, despite losing a leg to cancer when he was just ten years old, does not let that factor deter him in any way, resulting in a performance that is a privilege to watch not only for its depiction of the role but its perfection of technique.
Runs until Saturday March 25th at Wales Millennium Centre Cardiff, then touring.
Creating opportunities for a diverse range of people to experience and respond to sport, arts, culture and live events. / Lleisiau amrywiol o Gymru yn ymateb i'r celfyddydau a digwyddiadau byw