Wednesday, 12 March 2025

TINA - The Tina Turner Musical

 Curve, Leicester

11th March, 2025


I hear the notes. I see the movement


The words ‘icon’ and ‘sensation’ are overused in the entertainment industry. But there’s no one the words are more fitting for than Tina Turner. Her hair, her voice, her energy, her frenetic performances and rocky rags-to-riches story are all iconic. And like other musical icons, Tina Turner’s life and career have now had the bio-musical treatment which opened in London in 2018 and is still playing. Launching its UK tour in Leicester, TINA, The Tina Turner Musical is a jukebox musical-cum-concert and, in Phyllida Lloyd’s production, a superlative example of the form.


In her own words on the opening night in London, the endeavour had ‘turned poison into medicine’. The show certainly doesn’t shy away from the poison in Turner’s life. Raised in the rural community of Nutbush, Tennessee, Anna Mae Bullock (her real name) became a band singer in St Louis for established session singer Ike Turner who she married in 1962. Ike refused to pay Tina for her work and the marriage was abusive. In TINA, he’s presented as a violent, drug-taking womaniser. In an early scene, Ike (David King-Yombo) threateningly asks if Tina is going to give him trouble for questioning her new stage name before smashing a cymbal on the floor. But despite this, and him owning her name, she continued performing and refused to let herself be defined by him. The musical’s book (written by Katori Hall with Frank Ketelaar and Kees Prins) cleverly navigates the milestones in Turner’s life and largely structures the show around that turmoil and subsequent reinvention. The show is framed by Tina kneeling preparing to go on stage in front of 180,000 fans in Brazil to sing ‘(Simply) the Best’. As she chants a Buddhist prayer, we’re transported back to the beginning of her story in Tennessee where she witnesses her dad beat her mom. The act is set up as one in which violence is a thread throughout her early life, and a tragic end almost seems inevitable. As her career grows and marriage spirals, the act culminates in a show-stopping scene where ‘Proud Mary’ is used as the trigger to her leaving that life behind. Tina (at this performance played by Jochebel Ohene MacCarthy) is singing ‘Proud Mary’ in concert, exuding charisma, flirting with the audience, fully embodying the Tina Turner style before coming to a halt mid-flow. We then see a full-on fight between her and Ike and the end of which, in a confusion of headlights, pills and anger, we see Tina check in to a hotel covered in blood and with nothing but 36 cents to her name, resolute she’s not going back to that life. It demonstrates a real commitment to storytelling, and is not often seen in a jukebox musical, for the creative team to infuse and interrupt one of Turner’s biggest hits to portray a pivotal and symbolic point in Turner’s career.


The second act, with Ike taking a back seat to let Tina shine, is somewhat lighter and highlights Turner's struggles to adapt to working with a new management team and  modern methods. In a hilarious scene, her new manager Roger Davies focuses on trying to assuage a British sound engineer who struggles to sing a demo of ‘What’s Love Got to Do With it’ whilst Tina is close to walking out altogether. But this new chapter isn’t without its travails either, and we witness the perils of being an older black woman trying to kickstart her career in an industry that didn’t always want to support her. All this leads to the finale where we’re back at that stadium in Brazil and get to enjoy a mini Tina Turner concert of our own (Mark Thompson’s costumes, Bruno Poet’s lighting and Nevin Steinberg’s sound are all excellent).


There are some weaknesses to the book: at almost 3 hours, there’s a lot to pack in. And whilst it is very much the Tina Turner show it at times tries too hard to change the focus onto Anna Mae and the ghosts of her old life in Tennessee. This is perhaps unsurprising given Hall’s pedigree of writing rich stories about her home state. And whilst a scene featuring Phil Spector demonstrates Tina’s voice and the infamous Wall of Sound on ‘River Deep – Mountain High’, I couldn’t help but wonder if his presence was thematically inappropriate given his history.


But Lloyd’s production is very forgiving and pulls out all the stops to ensure the audience has a great time. To this end, many of the more successful numbers are performed as concert numbers rather than falling into the trap of trying to shoehorn them into the plot. This gives Ohene MacCarthy opportunity to shine: she seems almost possessed as she fiercely embodies the characteristic Tina Turner riffs, movements and facial expressions. But more than just an impersonation, Ohene MacCarthy embraces Turner’s charisma, stage presence and connection with both song and audience. I was also impressed by King-Yombo’s Ike, both menacing and showing the character’s downtrodden side, the effects of years of racism and feeling unrecognised for his talents.


From escaping her marriage to reinventing herself as a rock singer in the 80s, Turner’s global success and icon status have been cemented by TINA and will continue delivering her legacy around the UK.


TINA, The Tina Turner Musical plays at Curve, Leicester until 22nd March as part of a UK tour. The West End production continues to play at the Aldwych Theatre. For further information, please visit https://tinathemusical.com/

Jochebel Ohene MacCarthy as Tina Turner in TINA, The Tina Turner Musical. Credit: Johan Persson


Friday, 14 February 2025

Girls and Boys

Nottingham Playhouse

13th February, 2025


In general


I find it striking how some of the most affecting and engaging pieces of theatre I’ve seen are written for solo performers, particularly women: Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag (2013), Gary Owen’s Iphigenia in Splott (2015), Suzie Miller’s Prima Facie (2019). I can now add to this Dennis Kelly’s Girls and Boys, which had an initial run at the Royal Court with Carey Mulligan in 2018. Now receiving its regional premiere at Nottingham Playhouse, starring the city’s own Aisling Loftus, Anna Ledwich’s production carefully unpacks Kelly’s monologue about the traumatic effects of male violence.


“I met my husband in the queue to board an easyJet flight and I have to say I took an instant dislike to the man.” This is the first line in a direct ‘chat’ (as the script refers to them) with the audience. It’s at the beginning of an exchange about the meet-cute with her husband, which introduces us to the character and her background. She’s messy, occasionally confrontational, sometimes self-destructive, spontaneous and astutely observational. A trip to Italy (after three misguided days spent in Southampton) was the result of her resolving to end a period in her life which she refers to as her ‘drinky, druggy, slaggy phase’. A hilarious anecdote about being pushed into a puddle of puke during sex with her flatmate prompts her to reflect that ‘when a sentence like that appears in your life, you know it's time to start looking at your choices’. So here she is, about to board her flight, when she meets her future husband and father to her two children.


Through a series of chats and scenes with her two young children (who Loftus mimes and has conversations with but we cannot see), Kelly slowly builds a detailed picture of this woman’s life. Yes, there are struggles with work and family, but overall, they’re both driven in their careers, have a healthy relationship, and two funny and inquisitive children. Their portrait of happiness is exemplified in the design. Janet Bird’s set, warmly lit in a pink glow by Matt Haskins, has the tell-tale signs of success: an open plan kitchen with a hint of an extension, an island, and chic furniture. And a big reason we warm to this person and her life if because of Loftus’ thrilling performance. In her hands, the character is open, personable and down-to-earth. She revels in the humour of Kelly’s writing, enjoys the light-hearted opportunities to connect with the audience, and takes the time she needs to expose vulnerabilities. Barefoot on the stage, she gives an uninhibited performance that draws us in. And the more we’re drawn in, the bigger the shock when she breaks the fourth wall to reveal something which upends our understanding of the play and its use of dramatic license thus far.


For the remainder of the play, Loftus considers carefully what and how to reveal harrowing aspects of the story, hitting the emotional beats excellently. I don’t want to spoil the plot, but it’s interested in violence specifically at the hands of men. In many ways, this isn’t a shock turn of events as Kelly peppers references throughout: Her toddler loves to pretend play at dropping bombs on his sister’s skyscrapers; she and her husband argue over a mass shooting on the news; she works on a documentary about the failure of patriarchal society and society’s lineage of male violence. Whether through despotic dictators, boisterous toddlers or elderly eccentrics, male violence is a thread throughout.


Statistically what happens shouldn’t be a shock but still is. Afterall, as Kelly highlights several times, ‘any objective look at our world would have to conclude that men are, in general, absolutely cocking awful at being in power: in general’. But the force at which violence is now in this domestic sphere whereas before it was elsewhere – in history, in America, in make-believe – is shocking. The script is well crafted, and on reflection filled with foreshadowing and recalls which flip our perspective of certain lines. ‘This talking, moving dirty-puddle of a man?’ is an abject, almost-physical reaction to her husband, in which the word puddle recalls its humorous use in the anecdote about her flatmate in the opening scene. And there’s a line from the story about the airport queue (‘if that old bitch tries to cut in I will drop her and stomp on her neck’) which is clearly a joke but perhaps foreshadows details later on which are heard in a different context.


Girls and Boys is another success for Nottingham Playhouse after The Children and Dear Evan Hansen last year – a gut-punch of a play which will have you reflecting on our world and Loftus’ performance long after.


Girls and Boys plays at Nottingham Playhouse until 1st March. For more information please visit https://nottinghamplayhouse.co.uk/events/girlsandboys/ 

Aisling Loftus in Girls & Boys. Photo by Johan Persson.


Friday, 24 January 2025

Kinky Boots

 Curve, Leicester

23rd January 2025


“The most beautiful thing in the world”


Following a few months off from theatre-going (with good reason – I gave birth to our son back in October 2024!) I was delighted to return to Curve for our first show of 2025. And what a fantastic show with which to break my theatrical fast! Cyndi Lauper and Harvey Fierstein’s joyous musical adaptation of the 2005 film Kinky Boots - based upon a true story about a Northampton shoe factory which boosted business by creating custom heels for men – is given new life in Nikolai Foster’s glitzy revival.


It’s fitting that this first major revival is originating in Leicester, a midlands city that shares Northampton’s historic ties with the footwear industry. Foster wisely doesn’t strive for anything too radical with this new production, retaining and maintaining the show’s feel good charm, crafted through the carefully juxtaposed worlds of Lola and her troupe of drag queens, the Angels, and the small town midlanders of Price & Son. Robert Jones’s cavernous factory set fits the Curve stage perfectly; a red neon-lit box is periodically illuminated to denote scene changes, such as our first foray into Lola’s drag club. Furthermore, Jones’s flamboyant costumes are a sequined tonic to the functional metal and brick of the factory floor. The distinguishing red worn by the Angels is mirrored in the various black costumes donned by the whole company during the finale. The design is a clever way of projecting the show’s message of unity and acceptance while aesthetically allowing the array of red stiletto boots to truly pop.


While I’d argue that Kinky Boots is popular enough not to need celebrity appearances, there’s no denying that the casting of Strictly Come Dancing’s Johannes Radebe as Lola has caused a buzz amongst audiences – entrance applause is a rarity this side of the pond, but Radebe enjoyed a rapturous greeting from the crowd. While Radebe’s voice lacks power at times, he can certainly hold a tune. And his eye-catching poise, charisma and electric dancing demonstrates that he has the necessary stage presence to embody the role. The yin to Radebe’s yang, Dan Partridge gives a spirited – if a tad intense – performance as factory owner, Charlie, coming into his own during the contemplative rock ballad, ‘Soul of a Man’. I was particularly impressed with Courtney Bowman’s Lauren; likeable, relatable and naturally humorous, her rendition of ‘The History of Wrong Guys’ is a knockout. Amongst a strong ensemble, Scott Paige also stands out, making the most of his small role with some witty asides.


Lauper’s score remains a personal favourite, as her sparkling disco numbers and euphoric power ballads are consummately hummable and uplifting. Highlights here include the touching ‘Not My Father’s Son’, and the sassy ‘Land of Lola’ and ‘Sex Is In The Heel’. Kinky Boots is a modern classic and Foster’s production is the perfect New Year pick-me-up, guaranteed to uplift audiences even on the coldest, greyest of January days. I’ve no doubt that audiences nationwide will don their most bedazzled attire and flock to see this exuberant treat of a musical.


Kinky Boots plays at Curve, Leicester until 25th January before embarking on a UK and Ireland tour. For full tour dates please visit:
https://kinkybootstour.com/


Johannes Radebe and Dan Partridge in the artwork for Kinky Boots.


Monday, 13 January 2025

Top 10 Theatre 2024



I've been here/ For the show


We had a baby in October! Swapping late nights at the theatre for sleepless nights at home has meant we reviewed fewer shows last year. We’re discovering that being parents is probably the most challenging, tiring and joyous thing we’ve ever done. Theatre can happily take a back seat for a little while. But fear not, we’re planning on making the most of our NT at Home subscription, have already introduced the baby to Sondheim (he loved ‘Giants in the Sky’), and are planning to see the occasional show in 2025, time permitting.


We filled our boots with some great theatre trips in 2024. So, for what it’s worth, here’s our Top 10 list in the order we saw them:


1.      The Hills of California, Harold Pinter

A new Jez Butterworth play is always a hot ticket. Rich with detail and characters that were layered with their own inner lives, The Hills of California explored the legacies of abuse and the way we use stories to shape our lives. Stories can be told differently on each outing. They can be used as projections of our own aspirations, suits of armour to hide shame, weapons to cast guilt, vehicles to convince ourselves we’ve found peace. One of the questions I took from the play was how much do we change? Interestingly, and rarely for a London-New York transfer, the play itself changed significantly ahead of its Broadway outing last Autumn.


2.      Jesus Christ Superstar, Curve Leicester

Eight years after Timothy Sheader’s Olivier Award-winning production opened at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre, we finally saw this simultaneously strange, terrifying and fixating show. Sheader’s production was full of visual metaphors including Judas’ hands dripping in silver, stained for the rest of the show as a physical sign of his betrayal and guilt. And in the lead up to the title song, Jesus’ 39 lashes of golden glitter were brutal, striking and oddly fabulous at the same.


3.      An Enemy of the People, Duke of York’s

In a production which blurred the line between fictional drama and political reality, Ibsen’s enthralling play was made even more engaging by Thomas Ostermeier’s production. But in a production which perhaps foregrounded the satire, however rousing and provocative the staging, did it really inspire change? As Stockmann, Matt Smith was affable, persuasive and showed the doctor’s weaknesses – a fine orator who slipped into antagonistic grumbling. Also excellent was Paul Hilton acting his brother’s superior. He was supercilious and pernickety, wiping the furniture before sitting down. The way he dragged out the word ‘blog’ at the patronising suggestion that Thomas will write a post about the water (who would lower themselves to such a thing!) was telling.


4.      Standing at the Sky’s Edge, Gillian Lynne

Set in Sheffield’s famous Park Hill estate, Standing at the Sky’s Edge followed three of its occupying families across six decades. A love letter to Sheffield and its people without romanticising the past, Bush and Hawley’s writing was full of heart without succumbing to easy sentiment. Sheffield is more than just its setting: it’s the musical’s DNA, its source of conflict and its beating heart. And whilst it is intrinsically Sheffield-centric, it also prompted in me a proud connection with my own home city. Place at a local level is an important part of one’s identity and it’s great to see that explored on stage – on local, national and commercial stages. Profound, uplifting, inspiring theatre!


5.      Hadestown, Lyric

Set between a New Orleans-style jazz club and the fiery pits of Hadestown, Anaïs Mitchell has (to forge another theatrical comparison) done for the Greek Myths what Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice did for the Bible with their rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar; combining modernity and lore to make that stuffy literature once studied at school seem relevant and cool again. When we saw the show at the National in 2019, we hoped it would continue evolving. The London cast put their own stamp on the show to create an iconic sound, from the Irish tones of Dónal Finn’s Orpheus to Melanie La Barrie infusing her Hermes with a Trinidadian accent.


6.      The Children, Nottingham Playhouse

A woman stands in the kitchen of a friend she’s not seen in 38 years with blood pouring out of her nose. This opening image, both comic and dark and full of intrigue, was typical in a play full of similarly striking moments. The play’s closing image was as intriguing as the first: Hazel performs a yoga routine whilst Robin mops up water; one focusing on self-preservation, the other cleaning up the mess around them. It was a refinement of the play’s central question and provides opportunity for the audience to reflect on the responsibility we carry in our time on this planet. Plaudits go to Nottingham Playhouse for reviving The Children, helping to cement its status as a contemporary classic. They’re due to stage another regional premiere of a contemporary play, Dennis Kelly’s Girls and Boys, next month.


7.      Till the Stars Come Down, NT Dorfman (NT @ Home)

Like The Hills of California, another play about sisters was Beth Steel’s hilarious and well-observed comedy of a family wedding in her native Mansfield. It is well worth a watch on NT @ Home. A comedy focusing on working class characters at a wedding had the potential to veer into a cheap farce like Fur Coat, No Knickers. But the love and tensions which underlined the relationship between the characters, particularly the main trio of sisters, was compelling. Steel demonstrated a fine ear for dialogue which translated brilliantly in production. I can still hear the way Alan Williams’ Tony calls for his daughter Sylvia.


8.      A Chorus Line, Curve Leicester

Nikolai Foster made some tweaks which made this revived production a step up from its previous incarnation in 2021 – money had obviously been spent on upgrading the wigs, and the tin foil backdrop had been scrapped from ‘The Music and the Mirror’ in favour of a more natural aesthetic. The production was topped off by Ellen Kane’s sublime choreography. The dance routines are the kind that leave those who can dance wanting to learn the numbers, and those who can’t dance (eg. me!) wishing they could. In all, A Chorus Line was a great example of triple threat theatre. The stamina of those involved in the show was outstanding and the affection the cast and creatives have for it was palpable.


9.      Next to Normal, Wyndham’s

The UK premiere of Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey’s Pulitzer-winning Next To Normal has been a long time coming. Rights issues have put a hold on production plans for years, but at long last fans of the heart-breaking rock musical could indulge in the transfer of the critically-acclaimed Donmar Warehouse production. An intense but gripping watch, Kitt and Yorkey’s score married hummable melodies with often searingly truthful lyrics, delivered by a cast that bleed every drop of emotion in what must now be considered a modern classic. In the Wyndham’s, this intense musical felt like it had more space to breathe.


Mental health is a heavy subject to tackle in a musical, but Kitt, Yorkey and co. do a commendable job of portraying Diana (and her family’s) struggles in a sensitive manner without sugar-coating it. Next to Normal acknowledges that there will be ups and downs, and while we leave Diana, Dan and Natalie in a state of flux, there is a sense that, while hopeful, both the characters and the audience can’t be sure of where things will eventually lead. This is not a happy ending, but a pragmatic one as evidenced in the lyrics to the closing number, ‘Light’. Funnily, the finale that this brings to mind, rather perversely, is that of Avenue Q’s ‘For Now’, highlighting the transience of life and all the emotions it entails.


10.  The Real Thing, Old Vic

I’m not convinced that Stoppard’s kaleidoscopic 1982 play is as much of a comment on love and betrayal as some critics have argued. What I am more convinced of is that it’s an entertainingly clever metatheatrical examination on the process of making art. Max Webster’s stylish production, starring Bel Powley, James McArdle and Susan Wokoma, retained the 80s setting but felt modern, and McArdle in particular did a great job of making an apathetic and egocentric character likeable.


Notable mentions:

On the road

At a time where cynicism seems to reign supreme, revisiting the UK tour of Come From Away reminded us how theatre can restore one’s faith in humanity.

In October, Adam Penford’s new production of Dear Evan Hansen freed the show of the shackles of the original production and provided a more dynamic staging.


On Screen

We were lucky enough to see Samuel L Jackson and John David Washington in August Wilson’s The Piano Lesson on Broadway in 2022. The pair now reprise their roles in Malcolm Washington’s film, streaming on Netflix.

Matthew Warchus’ deliciously witty 2019 revision of Noel Coward’s Present Laughter is finally available on NT @ Home. Andrew Scott sets the tone just right, leading a fine cast where he plays up the hammy ridiculousness of actor Garry Essendine whilst creating moments of depth.


The lows

We were less impressed with the New York transfer of Jeremy O. Harris’ Slave Play. With 12 Tony nominations from the Broadway run, its reputation preceded it. However, I found much of it an indulgent slog.

Slightly less disappointing was Benedict Andrews’ production of The Cherry Orchard at the Donmar. Andrews had stripped the play of any historical trappings and gave it a contemporary sentiment. The intended effect, I suppose, was to mine the emotional and intellectual depths of the play, to unlock new meaning and appeal to new audiences. The actual effect, despite it being an immensely watchable production, was to dampen the play’s dramatic tension. The production transfers to St Ann’s Warehouse, New York in the Spring.

Thursday, 3 October 2024

Dear Evan Hansen

 Curve, Leicester

2nd October, 2024


Sincerely, Me


The 2017 Tony Awards are controversial in our house. Benj Pasek and Justin Paul’s (music and lyrics) and Steven Levenson’s (book) 2015 musical stormed the ceremony that year, beating out tough competition. For us, Tim Minchin’s lyrical dexterity and subversive score for Groundhog Day, and Sankoff and Hein’s folky music and serene harmonies in Come From Away were far more worthy winners. But that’s the nature of award shows. Dear Evan Hansen, which opened its UK tour last month in a new production by Nottingham Playhouse, focuses on 21st century adolescence, the liberation vs. encumberment of social media, and the mental health pandemic sweeping the globe. With its anthemic score and heart-wrenching performances, the show will please its predominantly younger fanbase and newcomers alike.


The story – a teenager with social anxiety unintentionally goes viral when he claims to have been friends with a local boy that committed suicide – has the bones of a great drama. However, Levenson’s book doesn’t flesh out all of the central characters and some of its outré plot points are not fully resolved. The sensitive subject of teen suicide could be handled in several ways: an honest, deep and sympathetic portrayal of Connor Murphy, illuminating the true hardships of mental illness; or perhaps an intimate chamber piece looking at the aftermath and lasting effects on the family; or alternatively, we could be presented with a pitch-black social satire on the pitfalls of social media (echo chambers, #fakenews, morbid humble-bragging and self-publicising). Pasek, Paul and Levenson try to portray all three of these scenarios. It’s too much to cram into a show and the resulting lack of focus leads to an underdeveloped approach.


Evan Hansen is a solid protagonist, and in the capable hands of Ryan Kopel, he’s engaging and likeable in his relatable angsty ways, cleverly avoiding some of the annoying tics and pitfalls of Ben Platt’s performance in the 2021 film. Yet, there are several wasted opportunities for character development with the supporting characters – I’d have been fascinated to see more of the psychological reasoning behind the Murphys’ behaviour towards Evan following Connor’s death, and Levenson and co. missed a chance to draw more from the peculiar relationship between Evan and fellow loner Alana. The show’s denouement is problematically glossed over as well. One minute Evan’s secret is out and his world comes crashing down, the next we see him months later a slightly more confident young man, and the intervening seasons are wavered with the odd flippant remark. We see too little of the aftermath of this momentous revelation. It feels a cop out to present a show that addresses such serious topics and then drop the curtain just as it starts to get difficult.


I feel this muddled quality is partly down to the tonally jarring restrictiveness of Pasek and Paul’s songs. Their soaring melodies with sugary lyrics seem more fitting for TV talent shows than a sympathetic analysis of the complexities of the teenage social sphere. That’s not to say the songs aren’t commendable in their own right – they’re often extremely catchy (‘Waving through a Window’), uplifting (‘You Will Be Found’), and beautifully sung by the cast (‘So Big/So Small’). And I found that they sometimes do successfully advance character, in particular for Evan who’s so unable to articulate himself otherwise. But they detract from the dramatic clout the concept promises. Compared with the punchy music of Sater and Sheik’s Spring Awakening or the recent Donmar production of Tom Kitt and Brian Yorkey’s Next to Normal, which share similar themes with piquancy and depth, Dear Evan Hansen can feel over-polished and po-faced.


Thankfully, Adam Penford’s production is freed from some of the shackles of the original production and provides a more expressive, dynamic staging. Chiefly, Morgan Large’s design is more aesthetically pleasing than the West End production. A series of sliding screens and mirrored prosceniums reflect, refract and distort the action, and act as a canvas for Ravi Deepres’ brilliant video design: a proliferation of social media posts, hashtags and TikTok live streams. It’s both a digital space and a literal one, populated with the school corridors, bedrooms and kitchens of modern America. Large has also effectively refreshed the costumes (gone is the iconic blue striped T-shirt synonymous with the Broadway production). For all intents and purposes, Dear Evan Hansen still feels like a one man show, but the supporting cast do a fine job with the material. In particular, Lauren Conroy believably captures Zoe’s internal conflict over her antagonistic feelings for her brother, and Alice Fearn impressively evokes the vulnerabilities and pride of Evan’s single mum. Killian Thomas Lefevre (as Connor) and Tom Dickerson (as Jared, Evan’s accomplice with a devilish sense of humour) also give enjoyable performances, especially in one of the show’s much needed lighter moments, ‘Sincerely, Me’. Vocally, the cast are all on top form and it’s in show’s big numbers such as ‘Waving Through a Window’ and ‘You Will Be Found’ that all creative disciplines come together to create exhilarating moments. But a musical is more than those moments alone, and in Dear Evan Hansen it’s a shame they’re not more substantially reinforced by the rest of the material. These points aside, there’s no doubting this is a triumph for Nottingham Playhouse which will embrace younger audiences around the UK.


Dear Evan Hansen plays at Curve, Leicester until 5th October as part of a UK tour. For further information, please visit https://www.evanontour.com/

The cast of Dear Evan Hansen. Credit: Marc Brenner


Thursday, 26 September 2024

The Mountaintop

 Curve, Leicester

25th September, 2024


I’m just a man


Katori Hall often uses her home of Memphis as a setting for her plays. In Hurt Village (2012), she explores multi-generational experiences of displacement and isolation in an area of drugs, poverty and crime in the city. In her Pulitzer Prize winning The Hot Wing King (2020), which finished its run at the National earlier this month, a group of men compete for the trophy in a local cooking competition. And she shares her home state with Tina Turner, which surely contributed to her book for Tina: The Tina Turner Musical which plays at Curve next March. In her 2009 Olivier Award winning The Mountaintop, the setting is the Lorraine Motel where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spends his last night. The night before his assassination, the play takes us inside Room 306. After a few flirtatious exchanges with the maid, King is made to confront his work, ideals, past and future in a taut 90 minutes in which Nathan Powell’s production brings out the more poetic moments in the play.


Hall’s text remains a creeping force of nature: at once mundane and extraordinary, a characteristic exemplified in both King and Camae (Justina Kehinde). The opening moments see King order coffee and a pack of his favourite Pall Malls, and take his shoes off to kick back. He repeatedly says ‘I am a man’; and that he is – father, preacher, sinner – but he is also a beacon of light, emblematic of great love and great suffering for generations to come. Thus, Hall’s creation of Camae is a perfect match for a figure as monolithic as King. Camae is an earthy woman with a taste for whisky, cigarettes and sex, yet when she unleashes a torrential hymn-like sermon worthy of the great man himself we sense that not everything is as it seems. Camae, like King, also has a greater purpose. As it becomes clear that Camae has been summoned to the motel room to deliver more than just coffee, we see Hall’s play turn from an intimate reimagining of a conversation in a motel room to something more ethereal.


Powell brings these more abstract moments to the fore. At first, we Lulu Tam’s design take great care to achieve verisimilitude. Her recreation of the motel room has the same specifications: the double beds, the plush yellow carpet, the striped chair, the round coffee table. Even the neon sign (lit by Adam King) for the motel is a near-copy of the one in Memphis. But over time, the set (with the play) opens up to invite us further into King’s internal feelings. It snows in the room, we see grass appear, and even popcorn drops from above at Camae’s demand – a nod perhaps to her more unearthly powers. In Ray Strasser-King’s portrayal of King, we see the man and not just a historical figure. We see him tire with the weight of his toils; we can see the fire that drives his life; we see the holes in his socks and his flaws; and we see his peerless oratory powers with the drawn-out vowels and musical syncopations.


There’s no doubting the power in the play’s final moments. Kehinde leads us through the years following King’s death up to the present day in front of Jack Baxter’s video design. Hall’s text gains a poetry and musicality as we see historic achievements and struggles in equality from 1968 to present day: from ‘If the glove don’t fit, you must acquit’, the AIDS epidemic and 9/11, to Condoleezza Rice and the election of Barack Obama. In 2009, seeing the newly-inaugurated Obama must have given the end of the play a huge sense of hope. Powell draws on struggles in recent British history, including the war in Iraq, a Brexit speech from Nigel Farage, and the 2024 summer riots. The motif ‘The baton passes on’ is repeated. When I last wrote about The Mountaintop in 2018, I compared that line to a line from another great American play, ‘the great work continues’ from Tony Kushner’s Angels in America. I can’t help but wonder what progress has been made since 2018, but I guess that’s the nature of the baton… always being passed on.


The Mountaintop plays at Curve, Leicester until 5th October before visiting MAST Southampton and Theatre Royal, Stratford East. For further information, please visit https://www.curveonline.co.uk/whats-on/shows/the-mountaintop-3/

Ray Strasser-King (Dr. Martin Luther King) - Photography by Ellie Kurttz


 

Tuesday, 17 September 2024

Pretty Woman

 Curve, Leicester

16th September 2024


Everyone who comes to Hollywood needs a dream


Garry Marshall’s 1990 movie made a star of Julia Roberts and was the highest grossing R-rated Disney film until this year. Originally a darker script, J. F. Lawton made it a lighter rom-com when picked up by Disney and Touchstone Pictures. The Disneyfication, as such, of sex workers on the boulevards of Los Angeles was box office gold. Bryan Adams’ and Jim Vallance’s musical adaptation had a short run on Broadway in 2018 before opening in London just before the pandemic. As the show nears the end of its UK tour (its last stop is in Sheffield next week), the musical, as light and bubbly as the hotel suite’s champagne, appears to be a hit with UK audiences as much as the film.


A big (huge) part of that is because the intellectual property of its origins is well-known and popular. Wealthy businessman Edward Lewis (Oliver Savile, in fine voice) picks up Vivian (Amber Davies) who’s walking the streets of Hollywood. Their meet cute is over her fascination of his posh car and his for her hourly rate. Out of loneliness or sheer curiosity, he takes her back to his suite in the Beverly Wilshire Hotel and offers her $3000 in exchange for her company for the week. Despite (perhaps because of) the foundations on which their relationship is built, this twist on the Pygmalion tale easily has the audience rooting for them as a couple. Savile and Davies’ chemistry really connected with the audience last night and even though we may have misgivings about both characters’ decisions, this is frothy rom-com territory delivered well. The problem is that the musical steers so close to the source material it’s practically chained to it – the plot, much of its dialogue and even some of Tom Rogers’ costumes are recognisable from the film. Lawton’s screenplay is the basis for the show’s book by him and Marshall. It may give audiences some reassurance that it’s simply the movie live on stage, but I would argue that it doesn’t add anything new or provide much depth to what we already know.


Other than Roy Orbison and Bill Dees’ title song, which makes an appearance at the curtain call, it’s pleasing to say the rest of the show’s score is new. Adams’ and Vallance’s music is largely pop-rock with a mixture of upbeat and ballad numbers. I particularly liked their interest in Hollywood. A character called Happy Man, who sells maps to homes of the stars, sings numbers like ‘Welcome to Hollywood’ and ‘Never Give Up on a Dream’ which provide a thread for the musical’s setting. It’s in these upbeat songs that Adams and Vallance scratch away at the idea of Hollywood being a place of ambition and dreams but also of unhappiness; a place people escape to and also want to escape. That idea is enhanced in Vivian’s ballad ‘Anywhere but Here’ (the title speaks for itself) and Edward’s song ‘Freedom’ (one of the more memorable songs). The end of Act One number ‘You’re Beautiful’ is a crowd-pleaser in which Vivian fully looks and feels worthy of her surroundings. But other than that, a lot of the other songs are sadly forgettable.


Under Jerry Mitchell’s steady direction, the show has excellent production values. David Rockwell’s design captures the two sides of Hollywood: one with the fire escapes and migraine-inducing neon with an underlying grubbiness, the other the flowing drapes and neo-Renaissance frills of the hotels, theatres and boutiques, all of it framed by starlit palm trees. Also a nice surprise is Ore Oduba in a sort of everyman role as Happy Man, hotel manager, store manager and even conductor, connecting the dots in this dotty town. His performance(s) has enough distinguishing features to separate his various characters, his singing and dancing are solid, and he’s entertaining without being cloying. The role has been made into a vehicle for his talents to a winning effect.


I can see why the show was snubbed at the Tonys and Oliviers but it delivers what it promises. In Savile and Davies’ star performances in particular, Pretty Woman is a heart-warming musical rom-com which steers away from the darkness.


Pretty Woman plays at Curve Leicester until 21st September as part of its UK tour. For further information please visit https://uk.prettywomanthemusical.com/

The company of Pretty Woman. Credit: Marc Brenner