Review The Invisible Man

The Invisible Man
by Clem Garritty
adapted from the novella by HG Wells

The Vanishing Point
http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

This loose new adaptation of an HG Wells' novella starts off as a promising attempt to fuse themes from a number of different horror tales into an adventurous tale of scientific hubris,  but ultimately falls at the final hurdle.

Jack Griffin (Matthew Spencer), the son of a college Dean, is a young Victorian scientist who believes his experiments will lead to recognition, fame and fortune.

Gradually, though, lack of understanding from family and friends and the axing of his funding, turns his laboratory research into a bitter vendetta and obsession.

He alienates those around him including a suffragette colleague (Eleanor Wyld) on whom he pins his romantic hopes. However he is truly developing a miraculous formula - with the potential for good and evil, as well as unintended consequences.

Directed by Ryan McBryde, there are many enjoyable elements in The Invisible Man, especially in the first act.

The integration of modern themes works pretty well and, despite some clunkily literal lyrics, the inclusion of actor musicians does add  to the atmosphere and also help the scene transitions on the large Queen's Theatre stage.

Purists may object to the inclusion of a female love interest. However it has long been the custom in earlier screen adaptations and  the invention of suffragette Lucy has a resonance with other works by  science fiction pioneer HG Wells.

Wells's own brand of  feminism is found in novels such as Ann Veronica, although it also should be said, it ran side by side with an extremely active adulterous sex life and the fathering of at least one illegitimate child. 

The Invisible Man's first act does have hints of a certain unwieldy wordiness, perhaps trying to keep rather too much of the writer's novelistic scientific explanation 

Even so, despite these few stutters,  the story manages to gallop along along at a lick with a double narrative time scale, nicely combining a televisual feel with a fully fledged stage drama.

It's in the second act that this version of the classic Wells tale comes a cropper, losing its momentum at what should be some of its most exciting moments.

The thought did then occur that adaptor Clem Garritty's - and songwriter Rebecca Applin's - The Invisible Man is really a musical manqué, with uncertainty of tone and lengthy, laboured explanations suddenly filling the vacuum instead of songs.

It's a shame that the narrative energy drifted off after such an engrossing start.

Lily Arnold's set of browns and grays combines pub doors and  research filing cabinets with sliding sets for a tiled laboratory and a rented mahogany village room. Along with Nic Farnham's lighting and Applin's sound design, pace is maintained in a muscular first act.

Maybe it could have done with a bit more spectactular illusion (magic consultant - that's a title not an adjective! - John Bulleid) and been a bit tighter, but this isn't initially a major flaw in a ripping yarn.

Additionally one could feel the collective audience mind ticking as plausible intellectual and mercenary motivations for the actions of the characters were laid before them. 

It's ironically in some of the visually cleverest,  most stylized moments that this production comes apart.

Jack Griffin, increasingly demented both when visible and invisible, a kind of English Rashkolnikov who believes he can get away with murder, develops the visceral look of a silent film villain.

There are glimpses of Jack The Ripper, Sweeney Todd and Frankenstein in the drama's styles, but it all goes increasingly awry. What should be a desperate rooftop encounter drags, as words rain heavily down rather than the action being pushed forward.

The different narrative time scales also start to tell against the play, with the audience left confused for just a tad too long before the pay-off explanation comes.

While, after the first act, TLT and her own mad scientist automotive sidekick thought The Invisible Man might be an exciting family show, by the end it feels far too long and runs out of steam.

Perhaps the bandages were taken off too soon and it's a show put on before it was ready or, as previously indicated, the bare bones of a darkish musical.

However our own visible critical twosome are loathe to entirely write it off - with further development and tightening up, this dramatic experiment might work far better. Mainly for the first act, it's an amber/green light.

Review The Ladykillers

The Ladykillers
adapted by Graham Linehan
from the motion picture screenplay by William Rose

Five Fellas And A Little Lady
http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

Watching this touring production of The Ladykillers, a stage adaptation of the classic black comedy where a criminal gang divides and falls, TLT and her little getaway car suddenly had a startling thought.

Was this 1955 Ealing comedy part of the inspiration for scenes where the crime boss wacks other members of his gang in Martin Scorsese's Good Fellas?

Certainly there's a certain rhythm and black humour accompanying the macabre demise of the American mobsters that parallels the break up of the Ealing Comedy criminal quintet. And it turns out Martin Scorsese is an admirer of the original movie.

Yet this film noir edge is often rather diminished in Graham Linehan's serviceable but uneven script matched by an up-and-down - in all senses of the word - production  directed by Peter Rowe. 

The stage play, despite some 1950s' news references, becomes a stolid broad farce rather than a resonant mix of sinister Graham Greene welfare state villains with eccentric Edwardian shabby gentility of a bygone imperial age.

Nevertheless there's a pleasing cartoonish quality to the revolving set. A crooked nursery rhyme house meets Hitchcockian Gothic mansion with turret chimneys designed by Richard Foxton which opens out to reveal the unrenovated two-storey home overlooking a railway line.

Posing as a group of amateur musicians searching for rehearsal space, a motley collection of outlaws gather in a room rented by the gang leader Professor Marcus (Steven Elliot) from dotty widow Mrs Wilberforce (Ann Penfold). 

Cue the arrival of the Major, an apparent war hero fallen on hard times, (Graham Seed),  a punch drunk veteran of fixed boxing matches (Damian Williams), a younger pill popping petty criminal  (Sam Lupton) and a sinister foreign assassin (Anthony Dunn).  

They're all stock figures from 1950s' British studio crime and comedy movies who meet an immoveable force in the little white haired landlady who inadvertently causes their downfall. 

The outstanding performances of the evening come from Lupton's hyperactive spiv and Willliams's slow-witted lumbering heavy who gradually wises up. A couple of the villains' role feel underwritten and the production never fully lands despite a much stronger second act. 

Still, TLT did utter the occasional guffaw and her motorised henchman gave the occasional exhaust pipe cackle of laughter as the play eventually gathered momentum. Frustratingly though, much of the rest felt rather laboured in a spluttering production enlivened by moments of energy and it's a flickering amber light.

The Ladykillers continues at the Queen's Theatre Hornchurch until Saturday, October 21 when it will transfer to The Salisbury Playhouse from Tuesday, October 31 to Saturday, November 18.

Review A Fox On The Fairway

A Fox On The Fairway
by Ken Ludwig

Of Clubs And The Man I Sing
http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

Think a perfunctorily put-together 1970s' sitcom and you begin to get a flavour of Ken Ludwig's more miss-than-hit golfing farce A Fox On The Fairway receiving its British première.

It's set in the bar of Quail Valley Country Club on the eve of and during the annual tournament against a neighbouring club.

A club with the bizarre name of Crouching Squirrel - TLT did wonder whether it was a case of crouching squirrel, hidden fox,  as the vulpine meaning of this piece's escaped her.

Henry Bingham, the director of Quail Valley overplays his hand, foolishly accepting a wager offered him by the rival club's director, putting all the Bingham assets at risk.

Crouching Squirrel's "capital, capital!" Dickie Bell wears - ho, ho - a variety of outrageous pullovers and - ho, ho - mangles a plethora of well-known expressions.

The characters are well-worn stereotypes - the bungling head of the club, the sex-starved blonde wealthy divorcee, the Essex girl waitress out for evening class literary self-improvement, the dim but well-meaning new executive assistant with hitherto hidden talents and the battle-axe wife.  

A saying attributed to the well-known golfer 😉 Karl Marx states, "History repeats itself first as tragedy and second as farce".

Unfortunately here this laboured farce repeats farce only as a dim echo of more distinguished predecessors with clumsy set ups and very creaky gags.    

Nevertheless, the cast is pretty good despite the intensely irritating characters they have to embody. However, the action, directed by Philip Wilson, simply isn't fast enough to whip the audience up into the frenzy of laughter which is an intrinsic part of the farce experience.

There is a chance that this will bed in during the run, increase its pace and raise a few more laughs. There seem to be a few scattergun  metaphors going on, a lashing together of some  novelistic and filmic tropes and maybe the mention of the master of the silly-ass character PG Wodehouse gives a clue.

However, it's only unpredictable in that many of its self-conscious, supposedly hilarious, cartoonish scenarios come completely out of the blue, even within the skewed logic of farce.

Still, Damien Matthews does a more than decent job as Bingham, the hapless director who is the prey for the predatory Simon Lloyd as property developer Bell out to win by hook or crook.

Natalie Walter does her considerable best with Pamela Peabody (her name seems to combine a novel's virtuous chambermaid and a surname synonymous with philanthropy). Yet she still falls  victim to the clunky scenarios, especially in a golfing version of William Tell's apple, and some hoary  gags. 

Ottilie Mackintosh is forced to be supremely grating as the waitress Louise given to narrating events as a Homeric epic (it sounds better than it is in practice). Yet there is some pay off and, thinking it over, she may be the reason for the fox in the title.

Equally Romayne Andrews' Justin feels wasted (in all senses of the word after a hospital cocktail of drugs for - er - a broken arm) as the easily upset suitor of Louise  and Sarah Quist does what she can with Bingham's "Sherman Tank" wife Muriel who harbours a secret passion.

Besides the louder outfits, there are some surprisingly subtle costumes and styling, especially when it comes to Muriel Bingham.

The set designed by Colin Falconer is an ingenious, impressionist golfing green of paint and carpet superimposed on the club lounge and a final change of scene is a very impressive, if rather lumbering, coup de théâtre.

However TLT and her own little automative caddie were unsure, particularly in the first act, whether the translation of the American country club culture into purely English terms really works.

It's not a hopeless case, as it has a very good cast. Even so, A Fox On The Fairway raised only the occasional unregulated chuckle, rather than giving a novel twist to the farce genre and making TLT laugh her socks off. It's a lower range amber light.

Review Bring On The Bollywood

Catherine Kelly's career has included freelance journalism, as well as art director and magazine editor roles. She currently runs training workshops and has worked extensively in India.

Bring On The Bollywood
by Samir Bhamra
Music by Devesh Sodha and Niraj Chag

From India With Love
http://queens-theatre.co.uk

A feel-good extravaganza, Bring On The Bollywood, currently on tour,  has plenty of talent on board within its romantic East versus West star-crossed lovers musical comedy format.

There's a love story with many of the elements and twists and turns expected of a Bollywood movie plus a neat twist examing contemporary British Indian attitudes towards India.

Inspired by Oliver Goldsmith's eighteenth century play She Stoops To Conquer, the stock figures of Goldsmith's comedy and the Bollywood genre meld together well. It proves a strong framework setting up the modern against  the traditional, reality versus idealism, all within a romantic comedy that pays heart-warming homage to Bollywood.

Nisha Aaliya's Dr Katrina Pawar is our London-based heroine who returns to her parents' home in India for the wedding of her younger brother, Lucky played by Anthony Sahota. There's a series of tangles resulting in Katrina's parents' home being mistaken for a hotel but true love wins the day when the "samosa" love triangle is resolved.

Dance, unsurprisingly in a show modelled on Bollywood, takes centre stage choreographed by Subhash Viman,  Dr Leena Patel and Sonia Sabri  in a dazzling and dizzying array of ensemble set pieces. Many of the songs are also recognisable from Bollywood movies.  

Nevertheless it's long at nearly three hours and would benefit from hefty cutting and pacier direction by the show's creator and director Samir Bhamra.

This might also have increased the chemistry  between the two good-looking leads,  Aaliya as Katrina and  Robby Khela, who displays fine vocals, as her British born Indian love interest Ronny.

In a supporting role, Yanick Ghanty as Bollywood actor Amit has plenty of earthy comic swagger and is nicely matched with Rekha, an innocent Indian ward of the Pawar family, gracefully played by Sophie Kandola. Errant playboy son Lucky is a star turn by Sahota whose easy mastery of physical comedy quickly won the affection of the audience.

At the same time, it's often the more experienced veteran actors who carry the show.

Avita Jay's lovelorn Kanga gives maximum value both in the acting and singing stakes. Sakuntala Ramanee as the powerhouse matriarch matchmaker Lalita determined to marry off her children and Rohit Gokani as her bumptious husband Colonel Sunder Pawar also push the production up a much needed gear - ‘We don’t like each other but we love each other’.

There's spirited work from the dance ensemble of Emiko Jane Ishii, Jo Bispham, Mithun Gill, Raheem Mir, Kesha Raithatha.

However, having recorded backing tracks rather than live music did sap some of the energy out of the show and made me wonder whether it needed more volume to get audience toes tapping.

Apart from one clever transition when the Indian villa became a mountain top, the set, designed by Richard Evans, seemed rather inflexible in signalling mood and location changes, although Pete Bragg's lighting design made up a lot of the deficit.

Bring On The Bollywood has a great concept, story premise and  a witty script with depth and insight even if more experience in the 24-strong cast would give it the zing it deserves. However, the audience around me thoroughly enjoyed it and it's a sparkling upper range amber light.

Review Educating Rita

Educating Rita
by Willy Russell

Trading Places
http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

Just think, back in the day Rita could have studied Computing and Batch Processing at The Open University and Educating Rita would have been a completely different play ... 😵

Before the age of the internet, the Open University was a means for those who had left school at 15 and been in work to return to education part time as mature students working for a degree. It used radio and television, as well as face-to-face tutorials, to teach students arts and science subjects.

Rita (Danielle Flett), born circa 1954, probably was one of the 15 year olds who were never considered to be university material and left a secondary modern school to take up an apprenticeship as a hairdresser.

Now the play is even a GCSE school set text so, in a sense, Educating Rita itself has become part of the pathway to university and a reflection of a changed educational hierachy.

Rita has plucked up the courage to defy the scorn of her husband and start an Open University course in English Literature. Frank (Ruairi Conaghan) is the lecturer and frustrated poet, whose profession at the time is one of the few (journalism in that era was another) which also allows him to be a functioning alcoholic.

The Open University wasn't free, but considerably cheaper than going away for a degree, allowing the student to hold down a full time job and study, attending tutorials at a local centre, in this case one of the redbrick universities.

The play is a two hander written just when cuts and increased fees were making the Open University a little less open. So superficially (that's not a criticism)  it's also a nostalgic look back to a more idealistic time.

Director Ros Philips's production transfers the action from Liverpool to Essex which has seemingly a minimal effect on the script - Formby becomes Maldon.

However it may be worth noting Liverpool University was founded as one of the first redbrick universities in one of the major ports of British Empire trade - it's where Heathcliff is found in Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights. Of course it's possible to make Rita a 1980 Essex girl with origins in London's East End and London's docks, but it needs to be carefully thought through.

The performances themselves are workmanlike but somewhat clunky in the first act. We also felt that the middle-aged tutor would have been more awestruck and flustered - even if trying to hide it - when Rita walks into the room. Their physical types seemed to demand it.

Rita is a stunning, sexy, statuesque brunette in her stillettos with legs up to her armpits whom one feels a model agency talent scout would immediately snap up. He is a shorter grey haired and bearded academic, already living with an ex-student after a failed marriage.

So it felt that a misplaced awe of academia had rather overwhelmed the production and that just the merest frisson and awkwardness from the tutor would have made it more convincing. The two actors took a while to relax into their roles,  occasionally over-emphatic and with  some muffled diction.

This also muted some of the offstage action. We  did want the setbacks to seem more of a disaster,  the obstacles higher and the chance of overcoming them to be more in jeopardy in this production.

Still the humour and  transformation of the play work their magic, as does the clever merging of novels and real life which makes an impact, adding depth without the audience needing to catch on to the literary references. Rita's costume changes, always a vital component in the staging of this play, are simple but effective (the Queen's Theatre wardrobe department under Nicola Thomas).

In our times, with the old polytechnics now respected universities and now many more graduates, the attitude of the first half of the play, without knowing the school and college circumstances of 1980 and before, can feel rather patronizing.

But Rita is already a graduate of a hierachical education system. She's probably an 11 plus reject who teachers regarded as not fit for university. To cap it all, she has an offstage obdurate husband who could be a minor character in an Angry Young Man novel of the 1950s.

There may be ways and means of communicating the upheaval in education in the past without interfering with the script, perhaps replacing the 1970s' and 1980s' music inserted between scenes here.

The second act is by far the stronger for Flett's Rita. We  begin to see her mind whirring as the avalanche of new experiences pours over her and she eventually starts to try and separate fact from fiction.

Conaghan has Frank's wry, dry manner down to a tee with the potential for a tinge of academic malice, but he can afford to tone down some of the drunk scenes as someone who has held down a job for years while drinking steadily until an eventual spectacular lapse.

Educating Rita does require a balancing act. It has both a naturalistic quality (naturally exploited in the celebrated movie) and a darker, much less optimistic symbolic thread, both visually and in the text.  Especially with the distorted image of women both as literary characters or, in the case of female writers, as almost inevitably neurotic and/or spinsterish and tragic.

The influence of this body of literature, going hand in hand with how the medical and legal professions have viewed women, gives the play its heft, particularly in the second act. Even to the extent of there being a veiled suggestion that the power of literary fiction may still be a trap, a malign influence or a means of controlling women, while the men escape scot free.

The power dynamics feel rather blunted in this production. Nevertheless,  perhaps we can thank  the female-dominated hairdressing profession, where playwright Willy Russell started out, as well as his experiences as a mature student, for  some of the darker insights and humour regarding professional and personal issues. For a welcome new production, it's an amber light.

Review The Crucible

The Crucible
by Arthur Miller

No Turning Back
 http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

It's surely not too much to call Arthur Miller's The Crucible a collective scream of agony paralleling 17th century witchtrials in Salem with the stranglehold of Cold War 1950s' expediency, tightening its grip on individual lives and families.

 "Excellency, there are orphans wandering from house to house ...", says Reverend Hale (Coronation Street's Charlie Condou) as he entreats the presiding judge Danforth (Jonathan Tafler) to understand the repercussions of the court's politically- and property motivated condemnations imprisoning and executing parents.

When the play was written, many had been swept along by the ideals of communism and thrown their lot in with the cause of the Soviets, who eventually became allies with the US, during the Second World War.

The first performance of the play in 1953 pre-empted the execution in the electric chair of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg for Soviet espionage.  They left two small boys with relatives scared off beyond distraction until they were finally adopted outside the family.

The Queen's Theatre in Hornchurch, at the end of the District Line, has now mounted a touring co-production of The Crucible with Selladoor Productions and Théâtres de la Ville de Luxembourg,

Directed by Douglas Rintoul, this is a production with an intriguing design concept by Anouk Schiltz giving a powerful resonance to a play the relevance of which since it was written  never ceases to diminish when lies have irreversible consequences.

The owners of farmsteads in Salem in the state of Massachussetts find themselves at the centre of accusations of witchcraft and a pact with the devil when a group of young girls led by a calculating Abigail (Lucy Keirl) seek to extricate themselves from fault. As does, for different reasons, the local minister Reverend Parris (Cornelius Clarke). 

The self-sufficient Proctors have had their ups and downs. Yet John (Eoin Slattery) and Elizabeth (Call The Midwife's Victoria Yeates) show a united front in dismissing the allegations.

Especially as they know well two of the girls involved, their past maidservant Abigail and their present wench, Mary (Augustina Seymour). Especially as John appears long ago to have formed his own cartel with fellow farmers Francis Nurse (Paul Beech) and litigious Giles Corey (David Delve).

Instead, the Proctors discover they have unwittingly overreached themselves. Mary has been promoted to court official and she begins a  devastating assertion and instrusion of the court and political administration's authority into the Proctor family's lives and those around them.   

Miller himself could be shrewd at self-promotion and not a little disingenous. However what makes The Crucible a great play is that, while thinly veiled, it is searingly honest about the fallibility, as well as the strength of individuals cornered by a politicized and partisan legal set up.

This push-me-pull-you is crystallized in this production's precise design which speaks to the audience without using words. The over-confidence of John and Elizabeth Procter  at the start of the play  quickly finds itself besieged from all sides and erupts in rows between husband and wife as the pressure increases.

The costuming ranging from muted browns, black and white of the 17th century and the pastels of the 1950s all serve to give a double time aspect to domestic circumstances cracking under the weight of communal accusations and legal harassment.

The tall trees and interior dark brown wood panelling of the first act give way to the skeletal theatrical flaps in the second. These, alongside lighting by Chris Davy and an ingenious TV-style rumbling soundscape by Adrienne Quartly, cleverly and viscerally conjure up an entertainment industry caught up in processes over which it has no jurisdiction or influence.

The expansive performance of Tafler as the ruthlessly wily Judge Danforth, with his over-zealous sidekick Judge Hathorne (Patrick McKenzie), crosses the years and gives added heft to the layered effect.

So there is plenty of meat in this stylish production of The Crucible. At the start of the tour, it is already a gripping production, albeit some of the pacing needs to bed in. However Rintoul's and the ensemble's attention to detail extends to some beautifully-observed smaller roles: Diana Yekinni's pleading yet indignant servant Tituba; David Kirkbridge's wary clerk of the court, Carl Patrick's bespectacled grey-suited predatory neighbouring farmer Thomas Putnam.

It's a production that can have no bigger compliment than the spontaneous collective gasp from the audience, who clearly had never seen the play before, as John Proctor visibly seals his fate. Who can argue with that? It's a green light from TLT and her motorised cohort in devilish reviewing. 

Review Cinderella

Cinderella
Written by Andrew Pollard
Directed by Martin Berry
Musical Director Joshua Goodman
Choreographer Liz Marsh

The Only Way Is Ella
http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

We dusted off our passport to enter the Royal Ancient Essex Kingdom of Hornchurch for Cinderella   - it must be by Royal Appointment because it's at The Queen's Theatre!

This year's panto, penned by Andrew Pollard, nicely channels an Essex (well, Havering) vibe into the well-loved tale. Baron's daughter Ella (Natasha Lewis), left an orphan, is mistreated by her stepmother (Georgina Field) and her two butch designer-brand lovin' stepsisters Kylie (Carl Patrick) and Miley (Simon Pontin).

We saw this production in perfect panto laboratory conditions - alongside an audience of kids from several local schools brought by their teachers for their annual lesson in all things panto! They loved it and so they should ...

This is unashamed "real" glitterball panto. sparkly, cheesy and cheeky with an integrated tale but also a well-judged range of tones to suit punters of all ages.

The jokes come thick and fast and hit and miss - while the kids relaxed, sang along,  listened, watched, cheered and booed, lapping it up in the spacious auditorium for over two and half hours.

OK, it's not perfect. Not all the jokes hit their targets, but this aims to be cornily entertaining and the next deluge of jokes received appreciative gales of laughter.

The placement of the small orchestra slap bang in the middle of the stage limited the stage space and choreography.  That old bugbear, sound levels, meant that some of the singing was drowned out by the orchestra. But, you know what? It didn't matter.

The kids sang along enthusiastically to a range of current hits and ended up learning the lyrics and belting out the bossa nova standard Quando Quando Quando!

One barometer - the mobile phones were out at the beginning of the performance but during and afterwards - not a mobile phone in sight. Really, truly! Cross my heart and hope to die! The power of live performance won through and the busloads of kids were just too busy talking and cheering!

But down to the nitty gritty! A cute ditzy fairy godmother in the shape of Etisyai Philip determines to change the fate of our gutsy ragdoll heroine, Ella whose Dad has passed away.

Poor Ella's been left her in the hands of ultra wicked stepmother cum Eastenders villainess, Babs gone to the Baaaad, Baroness Hardup and two ugly shopoholic stepsisters with only lovelorn but wisecracking Buttons (Alex Tomkins), the self-appointed Justin Bieber of Hornchurch, to care for her welfare.

That's until Prince Charming of Chelmsford (Jamie Noar) makes an appearance, aided by recent immigrant to Hornchurch Dandini (Jonathan Charles), Italian but with more than a touch of Fawlty Towers'  Manuel about him his charmingly slapstick performance.

All this and an additional unique selling point, enough to warm the cockles of Andrew Lloyd-Webber's heart as he seeks to bring more music and musical instruments into the classroom.

The fairy godmother's wand magically transforms into a flute, Cinderella blows a big trombone, Baroness Hardup plays a mean (and we mean mean!) saxophone, Dandini is a dab hand at the fiddle and Prince Charming charms with his guitar strumming skills before twisting again (as he did last summer). .

This, along with some great voices, notably the wicked Baroness and Cinderella, carried on Hornchurch's musical tradition. Was it a fix, we wondered, that one of the teachers in the audience wooed from the stage turned out to be Mrs Robinson? (It's a little-known fact that Hornchurch provided the inspiration for some of Paul Simon's most famous songs!).

It all ended Happily Ever After with even a place for Buttons in the Charming couple's new household in Romford. All super-enjoyable festive fare spreading lots of Hornchurch happiness and we blow our horn for this Cinderella with a sparkly green light!

Review Silver Gym

Silver Gym

By Nichola McAuliffe

Stepping Out

http://www.queens-theatre.co.uk/

Off to the heart of Essex, Hornchurch, where Daniel Radcliffe took his driving test (beep, beep kudos to you Dan!), home of the eponymous Kathy in Paul Simon's hit written for his English love Kathy's Song - and of the Queen's Theatre in Billet Lane.   

We came to see Silver Gym, a new comedy by actress and writer Nichola McAuliffe.  She plays Stella, ex military police, who has sunk her life savings into a lease from the council for a gym housed in a run-down building covenanted as a "community asset"  - unless the building is condemned allowing vulture developers to make their move

So far, so good. But it has to be said, we found it more of a situation comedy on stage than a play and a pilot episode to boot, introducing the characters and familiar situations.   

There were some gestures towards theatricality,  a subtext indicating the history of women and money. And maybe, just maybe, the glib but double edged finale with a chorus of Dem Bones has a resonance in our all-too-connected world.

Nevertheless, whether it should at this point have been put on stage as a fully-fledged play is debateable.

There were some dubious jokes which could be misconstrued. Meanwhile,stereotypes abounded.. The ditsy blonde - well actually the Yorkshire-born Chinese airhead (Houmi Miura); the pious Nigerian wife in a niqab, trainers and sweat band (Susan Aderin); the Jamaican housing officer now on the dole (Suzanna Bygrave); the Liverpuddlian armed robber's wife (Pauline Daniels); the Jewish pole dancer (Kim Ismay) and the secretive posh housewife seeking IVF (Carol Sloman).  

The one man is the singing Barbadian grocer Franklyn (Peter Straker) who uses the facilities of Silver Gym to prop up his business.  We could see the main plot twist coming from several treadmills away, but, in between it all, frustratingly, there were glimses of building blocks for something far edgier and wittier.

McAuliffe is sturdy Captain Stella trying to make her mark on civvy street and deal methodically with the chaos around her. This all has a down-to-earth plausibility and could be an interesting anchor for a comedy drama.

Director Glen Walford, designer Amy Yardly, lighting man Mark Jonathan and sound from Dan Crews allowed the sitcom scenes to transition smoothly.

There was enough in place to make TLT and her own number-plated second-in-command to believe it could be developed for stage or broadcast - including the missing character, another unnamed armed forces' veteran described inn a throw-away joke who uses his prosthetic leg in creative ways.  

So, it was mildly amusing in parts, cringe-making in others. And it's almost like the traffic lights are shorting, jumping from red to amber to red, back to amber and, oops, it's red again! But somehow it eventually just about flickers into a amber  light, as golden as the sunflower peeping through on stage at one point,  for the idea and determined performances by the cast who insured the show must go on.