I Bought A Blue Car Today

Alan Cumming
Musical Director – Lance Horne
Vaudeville Theatre

Reviewed by Rachel Sheridan for the British Theatre Guide

He was in Sam Mendes highly acclaimed production of Cabaret and yet still one doesn’t automatically associate Alan Cumming with the musical world. He’s an actor (an incredibly fine one) and a comic, but a singer?

Well you can decide that for yourself as his one man show I Bought A Blue Car Today takes the audience on a journey through his last ten years in New York and is punctuated by musical numbers which relate to his experiences or have had an impact on him during his time in America, or that he just plain likes and doesn’t really have any other reason for singing them.

So the big question is, can he really sing? It certainly wasn’t what I was expecting. Sure Cumming can carry a tune and it’s no surprise to see several comic songs pop up such as Victoria Wood’s “Thinking of You” and “Taylor the Latte Boy” by Zina Goldrich and Marcy Heisler. However they are weaved in alongside of power ballads like Cyndi Lauper’s “Shine” and Cole Porter’s “Every Time We Say Goodbye” and even a few self-penned numbers. Performing these songs with an almost desperate sincerity, Cumming is clearly anxious about performing these songs well and you can’t help but feel a little nervous for him. He lacks the effortless ability of a natural singer and at times falls a little flat through his eagerness to communicate the song.

His witty repartee about his experiences in America, although a little self-indulgent are quite the contrary. Despite the nerves he discusses, his banter is easy and casual as if talking with old friends. As Cumming says; this is like a party; it’s just that we had to pay to come!

His tales of his life Stateside, mixing with the stars and performing at the Tony’s are fabulous and yet they are extremely personal as he discloses that he was sobbing in the shower just before meeting Whoopi Goldberg backstage at Cabaret. His stories although at times a little boastful are endearing and he’s really just a Scottish lad, excited by his life Stateside. Although it is interesting that he has become a citizen in a country which he had to leave in order to get married as they don’t recognise same sex marriages. He talks a great deal about his partner and friends and at times gets quite sentimental, although there is always a mischievous grin and a naughty twinkle in his eyes.

Whether he is the greatest singer in the world is almost neither here nor there. His sensual, dirty version of “Mein Herr” from Cabaret proves that you don’t have to have the strongest belt for a song to make an impact and whilst this isn’t the case for every song; it really doesn’t matter all that much. It’s Alan Cumming and even a story about buying a blue car today is entertaining when he’s telling it.

Stockwell

By Kieron Barry (edited from the court transcripts)
Directed by Sophie Lifshutz
Tricycle Theatre
Playing until September 20th 2009

Stockwell – an intense and thrilling courtroom drama; except rather more disturbingly this isn’t a drama, it is real life. A piece of verbatim theatre taken from the transcripts of the Jean Charles de Menezes inquest, this is a story that needs little explanation as we all followed it in the news in the aftermath of the 7/7 bombings in London, reading with shock and disbelief that an innocent man (who was believed by intelligence to be a terrorist) had been shot nine times by the police on a tube at Stockwell tube station.

As the piece begins eight actors superbly take on the role of thirty people (lawyers, police, surveillance officers, eye witnesses and family and friends). It initially fells like a staged documentary, repeating that what we already know, however as the piece unfolds and you listen to the facts of the case in this 90-minute drama, you are drawn into this incredibly tense and disturbing piece of theatre.

It was two specialist firearms officers who fired the shots that killed de Menezes, however there were an abundance of mistakes that led to that moment, placing the blame on many heads. Why hadn’t the surveillance team watching the property where de Menezes lived realised it was a block with a communal entrance rather than a house with a private entrance? They thought it suspicious when he got off the bus by Brixton tube station only to get on another bus to Stockwell. What they failed to notice was that Brixton tube station was closed that day. Communication between C019, operation room staff and surveillance officers was completely shambolic as messages were misinterpreted and in some instances not even received. And probably most shocking of all is why when the firearms officers boarded the tube did they not state that they were police, leaving eyewitnesses momentarily thinking that the police were the bad guys (I know it’s ironic isn’t it?)

Of course as the firearms officers and other members of the police point out that when it is broken down it is easy to point out the many mistakes occurred but this operation took place at a frenzied pace. However as the confused counsel for the de Menezes family, Mr Mansfield (Jack Klaff) questions in his deliciously dry and patronising manner, why was it so frenzied and not a more slick and controlled operation?

This production is simply and sensitively handled and whilst you leave the theatre in no doubt that the police are entirely to blame for this wrongful killing (even though they remain resolute that the mistakes weren’t theirs) you can’t help but feel empathy for the two men that fired the shots and what they’ll live with for the rest of their lives. Of course the greatest sympathy lies with Jean Charles de Menezes and his friends and family who speak of how he’d previously praised the police and was completely trustful that the police would keep him safe.

The York Realist

By Peter Gill
Directed by Adam Spreadbury-Maher
Produced by Good Night Out
Riverside Studios
Playing until 11th October

Reviewed by Rachel Sheridan for the British Theatre Guide

A story of a forbidden love is always going to have its tensions and complications, especially when the protagonists are male and it’s set in the early 1960s in a small farming community. A sort of a Brokeback Mountain set in Yorkshire; Peter Gill’s Olivier Award nominated, The York Realist is ultimately a very lonely tale.

Two men; George (Stephen Hagan) who lives with his mother in a small labourer’s cottage and John (Matthew Burton) an assistant director up from London working on the Mysteries Plays in which George gets a part. George’s family brushes over the fact that he still lives with his Mother and is not interested in any of the local girls. Completely clueless, his close-knit family have no idea of his extra curricular activities. Interestingly it is he, rather than cosmopolitan John who is at ease with his homosexuality. Not that it’s something he can parade in front of the local folk, it is 1961 after all but behind closed doors he is very comfortable with himself. Much like Brokeback Mountain after their summer of love (or winter as is the case in this play) is over and John has to return to London, they are both left to face the reality of their situation.

Adam Spreadbury-Maher’s production is nostalgic without being stuffy. Home baked apple pie, several pots of tea and an elderly mother doing all her son’s laundry create a warm and cosy feeling within. Meanwhile the rug is being pulled out from under your feet with an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. A family that chatter endlessly about nothing in order to avoid what really needs to be said, they remain oblivious to George’s inner turmoil. This impressive cast take a very London audience out of the city and into Mother’s front room. It’s all very claustrophobic yet well meaning and there’s no chance of missing anything either as they all talk in that slightly too loud way of speaking to each other, to be sure that everyone in the front room can hear even though they are all sat around the same small table. Stephanie Fayerman as Mother gives a tender and moving performance of a woman whose son is the apple of her eye and Sarah Wadell as the well meaning neighbour, Doreen whose heart is sadly wasted on George adds some light humour whilst avoiding the trap of being the caricature religious do-gooder.

Hagen and Burton have a natural chemistry as these two men from very different worlds who find a mutual love and respect for each other. Hagen is adorable as the slightly simple George but still rivers run deep and his rivers are at times heartbreaking. Burton turns in an equally brilliant performance. He’s middle class without being pompous and whilst he may not wear his heart on his sleeve like George, his pain is just as palpable. The sexual tension between these two men is made all the more unbearable as Spreadbury-Maher’s direction allows us to think everything but see very little.

This really is a traditional love story like many others (although probably not the sort of love Mother had imagined for her boy). Two people meet and fall in love and have to overcome various obstacles that will either make them stronger or break them….ah they don’t make ‘em like they used to.

Catwalk Confidential

Catwalk Confidential

Robyn Peterson

Directed by: Tony Abatemarco

Arts Theatre

Playing until 3^rd October

Reviewed by Rachel Sheridan for the British Theatre Guide

Robyn Peterson is bringing a touch of glamour to the Arts Theatre as the swaps the catwalk for the stage. Well in actual fact she hung up her platforms quite some time ago as it was back in the 70s and 80s that she was the “IT” girl working with prominent photographers Helmut Newton and Guy Bourdin and infamous fashion designers such as Dior, Valentino and Yves Saint Laurent. In her hey day she graced the covers of Vogue and Elle and appeared on catwalks all over the world.

One of the first supermodels, Peterson shares her experiences of life behind the flashing lens in her one woman show, Catwalk Confidential about a girl who certainly lived and now a woman who has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

Less Lilly Cole (her early photos bare an uncanny resemblence) and more Cybil Sheherd these days, Robyn Peterson is still utterly georgous and oozes sex appeal as she strutts her stuff down memory lane. Screens behind her flash with images of her home town Miami, Paris where she spent her formative modelling years and various magazine covers to suggest time and place. Peterson’s stories are sexy, funny, shocking but nothing that we’ve not really heard before from the bizarre and wonderful world of fashion. Her one woman shows covers a period of ten years from the age of 16, when she landed in Paris and started booking jobs to the age of 26 when still barely a woman she would already be considered past her prime.

Peterson speaks with confidence to the audience but lacks the natural ease of a trained actress. Her performance is very much a memorised speech and though these are her own personal stories, due to the nature of her delivery she seems detached from what she is saying. Having said this she is still incredibly alluring and succesfully charms the audience (although it should be noted that this was a fashion crowd and I’m unsure how much tales of a make bag weighing 15 pounds will translate to a less couture-savvy audience).

When comparing to stories of other models from the 70s and 80s such as Gia Carangi, Peterson’s story lacks the same substance. Rather than dealing with hard hitting issues such as drug addiction (although of course she had her dalliances) and bipolar disorder, hers is more of a story of how she catapulted to fame through stealing a wrap around bikini off another model for a catwalk show to become the talk of the town and an overnight sensation. Not to demean Peterson’s story in any way; it’s great to see a woman emerging from the modelling world so vivacious, rather than crippled with insecurities, it’s just that her story is a little on the light and fluffy side.

However her 80 minute show still manages to entertain with her dry sarcasm; “You don’t compete with brunettes, you kill them” and her sense of humour about the world of fashion; “Have you ever seen an outfit so perfect that it literally stops time”. If anything it’s a shame the show comes to an end when it does with her at the age of 26 as judging from the woman we see onstage I suspect it was after her modelling years that the story gets really interesting.

The Assault

The Assault

(Part of Brazil X 2)

Directed by Victor Esses

Written by Jose Vicente

Produced by Alter Ego Productions

Old Red Lion Theatre

18^th August – 5^th September

Reviewed by Rachel Sheridan for the British Theatre Guide.

The Assault is in fact, just that; not just an assault on the characters but also the audience as you are forced to confront the seedy truth about power, money, desperation and homosexuality in Sao Paulo in the late 1960s.  At only an hour and twenty minutes, there is no beating around the bush with Jose Vicente gritty two hander.  Vicente’s exploration of class divisions is anything but black and white and is instead a rather murky shade of grey.

Victor (Steven Farah) a lowly bank clerk and Hugo (Jade Willis) a cleaner earning half the minimum wage are confronted with one and other as Victor locks Hugo in his office and essentially terrorises not only Hugo, but also himself.  Farah’s performance as this lonely, nebbish accountant is intensely unnerving.  Crippled by his closeted homosexuality and feelings of worthlessness within a corporate jungle, he is desperate to assert his power over someone; anyone.  As his obsession with Hugo reveals itself , Farah’s twitching mannerisms and frantic ramblings contrast beautifully with Jade Willis’s mild mannered Hugo who has become accustomed to being used and abused but has learnt best how to manipulate it to his advantage.  Willis’s cool exterior initially remains unaffected; however, even he underestimates the twisted nature of Victor’s desperation.

Inspired by de Vicente’s experiences of military dictatorship and his own personal homosexual repression, the brutal nature of his writing cuts right through any sense of political correctness to take an intensely personal look at how mankind react when faced with extreme repression.

Victor Esses’s production of this award winning play really is hard hitting stuff which stays with you long after you’ve left the theatre.  As part of a double bill with Rodrigo de Roure’s The Last Days of Gilda, The Assault whilst capturing Brazilian culture in the 1960s, continues to speak volumes today about social class structures and repression to a modern London audience.  

Latitude Festival - Part 1

So the bruises have finally faded from my Latitude Experience (nothing to do with the theatre I saw and all to do with the mosh pit I found myself in during the Gossip gig at the Uncut Arena) and i'm ready to report back from Latitude 2009!

Three things you expect to see at a festival:

· People running around with face paints, fairy wings, tutus, and other mystical paraphernalia

· Bands a plenty playing into the night

· Rain!

Three things you don’t expect to see at a festival:

· An audience enthusiastically waving their arms in the air to Westlife

· A selection of theatre that rivals the West End

· Sunshine!

The brilliant thing about Latitude 2009 is that it had all of the above; everything you’d expect and everything you’d never expect. Treading new ground in the world of festivals Latitude 2009 is so much more than a music festival with the token arts tent throw in. It caters for a whole other audience without sacrificing its music loving fan base. At Latitude there is room for everyone, music, theatre, comedy, cabaret, film, literature, poetry and that doesn’t even take into account the one off installation pieces that are happening in every corner. By creating such an eclectic vibe, Latitude draws a diverse crowd and by keeping all acts in fairly close proximity of one another there is a real feeling of intimacy that other festivals can lack.

Focusing in on the theatre there were two main spaces; the theatre arena (a sort of circus tent) and the outdoor theatre, located in the woods. Throughout the four days, many productions were repeated so as if you missed something one day, you had the opportunity to catch it on another. Theatre companies from all over the country took their turns on the two stages with the majority of performances playing to a full house, with the audience spilling outside.

A variety of pieces that had been especially created for Latitude were combined with pieces that are on their way up to Edinburgh and also a sample of what’s going on in the West End right now. Whilst the majority of pieces clearly had a festival crowd in mind a handful were oblivious to the audience they were playing to. Mercury Theatre for some reason opted to perform without the head microphones that all the other companies used. Playing against the blaring music that was coming from nearby venues and with the sound of people walking in and out, you could barely hear them.

It was the productions which involved some sort of audience participation which were, not surprisingly, the biggest hits. Dry white with their rather simple formula of creating various scenarios which resulted in the characters having physical fights was received with a rowdy response. Wearing coloured hats that we had been issued with to represent what character we thought would win each fight, we cheered and goaded as if at a WWF match. Hugh Hughes in his one man show 360 insisted we all chat to each and become acquainted in order to breakdown any barriers, whilst the Bush theatre’s Sudden Loss of Dignity read out embarrassing stories which had been submitted by members of the audience.

My top picks for the weekend have to be the afore mentioned Sudden Loss of Dignity which was met with a standing ovation and the RSC’s terrifying production of Here Lies Mary Spindler which was especially created for Latitude. The performance about the witch trials and subsequent burial site which just happens to be the Latitude site scared the living daylights out of me. Blood coming out of characters mouths and blood curdling screams pretty much guaranteed that there was no way I’d be going to the toilets on my own in the middle of the night!

So that was Latitude 2009, a sort of tea party/circus/rock concert/cultural/weird and wonderful event. Of course the only real way to discover the joy of Latitude is to go yourself, so who’s in for next year?!

360
Written by Hugh Hughes
Produced by touring theatre company Hoipolloi
Presented by Pleasance

The Pleasance prides itself on providing an early home for the best on the theatre and comedy circuit, in both Edinburgh and London. This year, the Pleasance returned to Latitude with four ‘Picks’ of comedy treats. One of which was Hugh Hughes with his brand new show 360. For anyone who has seen any of Hugh Hughes’ previous work they’ll know to expect organised chaos as his story telling technique goes off on random tangents which always find their way back to the heart of the story. That is not to say that Hughes doesn’t really know what he’s doing; he knows exactly what he’s doing, he just enjoys breaking down those performer/audience barriers in order to make the audience feel as comfortable as possible; as if we are all friends.

And that is the theme of 360; friendship, in particular Hughes’ relationship with his childhood friend Gareth. Taking us on a trip down memory lane he reminisced about funny moments they shared as young boys back in Wales, spending their Summer holidays together building Dams. He talked about how that friendship altered as they grew up as Hughes moved to London while Gareth stayed in Wales but how ultimately no matter what the change in circumstances the bond between two old friends is a difficult one to break.

Of course, as I have said already his story telling is not straight forward. Having told the children that were in the audience that the worst thing he was going to say was “Fucking Shit” and that if their parents were ok with that then they could stay, he began, in fact he even used one of the children to join him on stage to play Gareth in one of their Dam building adventures. As he frantically told the audience about one particular occasion when he and Gareth, as adults, climbed mount Snowdon he explained how their friendship was threatened due to the fact he was having, what he refers to as “ a Jack Johnson moment” (Jack Johnson being some moody idiot he worked with in London who would always make him feel stupid and therefore send him into a bad mood). Hughes’ simple tale reminds you how old friends help you deal with such moments and allow you to see the funny side of any situation.

Always nice to have a piece of theatre with a good old moral, although to be honest the chance of having “a Jack Johnson moment” at Latitude is pretty slim, especially with shows such as 360 taking to the stage.

When Cheryl Was Brasic by Leo Richardson
Crunch by Duncan McMillan
Produced by Nabokov Shorts

Nabokov aims to produce theatre which offers an antagonistic response to contemporary agendas and trends. Their monthly development forum showcases young playwrights, directors, and comedians etc to test and develop their work in front of an audience.

When Cheryl Was Brasic by Leo Richardson and Crunch by Duncan McMillan are such examples of work emerging from this initiative and what better place to get a true response than at a festival where the audience are free to get up and leave whenever they want.

With so much on offer at Latitude, if you’re not enjoying something you just leave and with some productions over the weekend that is exactly what people did. Nabokov Shorts however captured its audience’s attention with people crammed into every corner of the tent.

Both Richardson and McMillan’s short plays shared the theme of money; or rather lack of it, but each tackled the subject matter in a very different way. Richardson’s protagonist, Cheryl is sick of being broke and so takes the advice of her sex mad, role play loving, lesbian best friend Shenekwa – to focus on entertainment that’s free and doesn’t require you to leave the house. Cheryl sets about trying to spice up her nonexistent sex life with her Wi-Fi loving boyfriend, Dean. Dean is completely oblivious to poor Cheryl’s hilarious attempts to get him into bed such as covering herself in Nutella in the hope he will want to lick it off and telling Dean that a wasp has flown up his trousers in order to convince him to take them off. Her failed attempts are intercut with Shenekwa’s various role play fantasies with her girlfriend such as posh bird and robber and gangster and moll.

Very funny at times, Richardson’s light hearted take on money problems contrasts nicely with McMillan’s rant at consumerism. A couple verbally attack each other whilst teaching their child about third world debt, genocide, capitalism and massacres; all the things every child needs to know. Dealing with some pretty heavy issues, McMillan’s script certainly shocked you out of your comfort zone but it did become rather relentless and in fact almost watered down the seriousness of these problems by becoming a constant stream of consciousness rather than anything more poignant.

Both promising young playwright’s with very different styles if the rest of the theatre going public receive their work as well as those at Latitude, I’m sure they’ll do very well.

Traces
Directed by Tessa Walker
Produced by Paines Plough

Paines Plough is undoubtedly one of our most promising theatre companies with hits such as House of Agnes under its belt and writers such as Mark Ravenhill and Enda Walsh working with them they have already accumulated quite a following.

As with other theatre groups at latitude, Paines Plough are very supportive of up and coming talent. With their initiative “Future Perfect 2009”, six young writers came together to write Traces which was performed by members of National Youth Theatre.

There is always something so fresh and vibrant about work that emerges from young talent, even if it doesn’t quite work you can’t deny the energy that comes from a piece created and performed by people yet to be jaded by life.

Traces is most certainly a play by teenagers for teenagers with all loose ends neatly tied up and the odd group movement piece and rap thrown in along the way for good measure. A fairly simplistic plot about a famous girl, Leanne Turner (We’re not sure what she is famous for) who returns to her home town, wanting to reconnect, having lost touch with reality. Fame has bought her nothing but misery, however as she encounters various old friends and co-workers from her past she realises that it’s not that easy to go back and ultimately comes to the conclusion that there is nowhere that she can be happy in this life time.

Traces lacked the spark of pervious pieces performed by NYT members such as the electric White Boy. This sadly felt like an amateur production, especially as half the young cast are still to learn that when you’re off stage and your head microphones are on, even whispers can still be heard by the audience.

Kissed by Brel

Directed by Geoffrey Hyland
Jermyn Street Theatre
Playing until 9th August

Reviewed by Rachel Sheridan for the British Theatre Guide

“He goes to the limit of his strength because, through his singing, he expresses his reason for living and each line hits you in the face and leaves you dazed” – Edith Piaf

Having just been introduced to the work of Jacques Brel I’d have to say that Ms Piaf hits the nail right on the head with this description.

I say introduced, in fact I was, without realising already acquainted with some of Brel’s work as his music has been recorded by many well known artists including Frank Sinatra, David Bowie, Neil Diamond and Nina Simone to name but a few.

Jacques Brel’s songs cut right to core as he expresses his feelings about love, friendship, hatred of women and anti-conformism in the most poetic of ways. Compared by some with Bob Dylan, Brel’s use of expression such as, “I’d be the shadow of your shadow if I thought it would keep you by my side” sung to a loved one or “we skinned our hearts and skinned our knees” to an old friend from a death bed sends shivers down your spine (to use a cliché, which of course Brel would never do).

South African, Claire Watling is paying her respects to Brel in her one woman show Kissed by Brel. Fresh from her success in South Africa, Watling sets off where Brel finished by continuing to tell his stories; which is exactly what Brel’s songs are. They are stories which need to be more than sung; they need to be communicated. Watling wears her heart on her sleeve and is often overcome by the emotion of songs such as “Seasons in the Sun” and “If You Go Away”. However she also plays around with the chirpier and suggestive numbers like “Madeleine”, showing off Brel’s wicked and dry sense of humour, whilst her rendition of “Amsterdam” reflects Brel’s darker side.

On stage with accompanist Godfrey Johnson, Watling owns the space, although she’s in danger of being upstaged by her purple shawl which she wears in a different style for each song and constantly plays with.

Watling doesn’t have the greatest voice in the world. At times she struggles with the top belts and some notes fall a little flat but more importantly it is her ability to capture the soul of each song appealing to those that are already fans and newbie’s like me.