Billy Elliot

 

Curve, Leicester

Friday 22^nd July 2022

 

‘Solidarity forever!’

 

Following the success of recent productions such as Beautiful, A Chorus Line, and a summer run in the West End for their 2016 production of Grease, Curve is currently setting the standard for post-covid theatre, with a cleverly curated season that’s captivating audiences nation-wide. Their latest delight is a timely revival (the first since the original production) of Lee Hall and Elton John’s Billy Elliot The Musical. Nikolai Foster’s vision beautifully evokes a sense of community against a delicately balanced backdrop of political and emotional turmoil.

The story of a young boy pursuing his passion for dance, while battling prejudice and the hardships suffered by working class families during the 1984 Miners Strike is a modern classic, yet Foster’s production mines new depths, creating a moving and visually imposing piece of theatre. Michael Taylor’s set exploits the sheer expanse of Curve’s stage, upon which looming scaffold structures and mine shaft-yellow cages evoke a perilous playground of industrial dangers and suburban class hostilities. Foster juxtaposes this adult world in which tensions frequently escalate into bone-rattling violence with the exuberant world of the young boxers and dancers. Edd Lindley’s colourful costumes and Lucy Hind’s playful choreography featuring the children jumping out of lockers during ‘Expressing Yourself’ is a perfect example of such youthful innocence which is completely at odds with the social suppression of the external political landscape of the time. These worlds collide even further during the thrilling ‘Solidarity’, as the ballet dancers become surrounded by warring strikers and policemen in a whirling crescendo of commotion.

Yet such juxtaposition is also used to great effect to emphasise the theme of community in Billy Elliot. The children and adults frequently share the stage, inextricably fusing the political with the personal, as families struggle to make ends meet. A fine example of this is the opening of Act 2 which sees the locals gather for a shoestring Christmas celebration; the audience resume their seats while the characters sing, laugh and dance together in a tableau of nostalgic warmth. The fact that Foster and co have once again harnessed the talents of the Curve Young Company to bulk out the group scenes adds an extra layer of authenticity to the communal quality of the piece. The jaunty medley of 80’s festive hits soon gives way to the cracking satirical number, ‘Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher’ which combines family-friendly pantomime aesthetics with a biting undercurrent of bile. Subsequently the comedy descends into more heartfelt sentiment with Jackie Elliot’s folksy ode to his lost wife and lost livelihood, ‘Deep Into The Ground’. As such this scene traverses the gamut of human emotion and exquisitely encapsulates the thematic complexities of the show in a single ten-minute sequence; from the communal heart and resilience, to political fury and personal grief – all delivered with a deliciously traditional British timbre ranging from irony to pathos.

The performances are uniformly outstanding. Sally Ann Triplett was born to play the acerbic yet maternal Mrs Wilkinson, and she relishes every exasperated rebuke levelled towards her gaggle of giggling dancers and has a ball with the Chicago inspired choreography for ‘Shine’. Joe Caffrey’s earthy portrayal of Billy’s Dad, Jackie Elliot, grounds the show in a realism that makes the audience care for the family and mining community. Ethan Shimwell shines as Billy’s best friend, Michael, displaying natural comic timing and infectious enthusiasm. And finally, Alfie Napolitano gives the performance of his life as young Billy. He captivates the audience from the get-go, but it’s his performance of ‘Electricity’ that especially wows; his grasp of the choreography is superb, as expected, but it is in the small emotional nuances that Napolitano really tugs at the heartstrings – for example, the brief pause and glance towards his Dad before taking his final series of pirouettes – the performance elicited a rare and deserved mid-show standing ovation.

Curve has created a production which affords Billy Elliot both the immense spectacle and touching intimacy it deserves. The image of Billy dancing alone, dwarfed upon the vast metallic tangle of the stage, is unexpectedly moving, while the group numbers involving the miners singing for their lives are rousing yet prophetic in their ominousness. Foster and co have injected the musical with new vitality and far-reaching impact that will affect young and old alike. The revival comes at a time in history where Britain faces a similar state of economic and political crisis, and it admirably demonstrates the capacity of the arts to truthfully reflect the cultural climate while transcending social, physical, and linguistic boundaries to express both individual and collective anger, grief and joy.

 

Billy Elliot plays at Curve until 20^th August 2022.

The cast of Billy Elliot
Credit: Marc Brenner

Jack Absolute Flies Again

National Theatre, Olivier

9^th July 2022, matinee (preview)

“What will happen in England after we have won this war?
Bunting! Bunting everywhere!”

Richard Bean and Oliver Chris’ new play takes R.B. Sheridan’s 1775 farce The Rivals and updates the setting to a Sussex country house in The Battle of Britain. The romantic pursuits, mistaken identities and malapropisms from The Rivals are combined with Bean’s typically bawdy sense of humour, some impressive aerial dogfights and a dose of WWII patriotism. The result is an entertaining, albeit safe and slightly too long, comedy with pathos.

Caroline Quentin introduces herself to the audience as the widowed Mrs Malaprop at the start of the play (Imelda Staunton wasn’t available she quips). Her country home has been overtaken by a RAF unit, Women’s Auxiliary Airforce and maintenance units. Into this comes our protagonist Jack Absolute (Laurie Davidson). Having recently returned from risking his life, he wants to win back the heart of Mrs Malaprop’s niece and heiress, Lydia Languish (Natalie Simpson). She herself has fallen for northern mechanic Dudley Scunthorpe (a great bit of casting in Emmerdale’s and Strictly’s Kelvin Fletcher). Also chasing him is Malaprop’s maid and self-aware dramatic device Lucy (Kerry Howard brilliantly pulling the theatrical puppet strings). Meanwhile there’s an amusing sub-plot involving Mrs Malaprop and Jack’s dad Captain Absolute (a brilliant Peter Forbes further proving his versatility).

From what I gather, the play is pretty faithful to Sheridan’s plot, but Bean and Chris have a lot of fun with the cliched dramatic devices and archetypal characters. They gleefully drop a malapropism into almost all of Mrs Malaprop’s lines and Quentin delivers them brilliantly, knowing which ones to play up and which ones to sneak through. They’re occasionally predictable (when a clematis is brought on stage you can spot a clitoris joke a mile off!) but that’s part of the fun. There’s also some entertaining breaking of the fourth wall to send up the magic of theatre. Emily Burns’ production is mostly paced well and all the jokes are well received. Most impressive is the false identity scene where Jack dons a northern accent and moustache to woo Lydia Languish and in doing so becomes his own rival. Another particularly funny moment comes when Jordan Metcalfe’s Roy tests how far his beloved’s love for him will stretch. One man behind me was almost choking with laughter as Metcalfe begged to know if she’d still love him if he had no penis, no legs, no arms and just a hole for a face.

The action is played on Mark Thompson’s colourful cartoonish set which looks like a wartime propaganda poster. A cut-out plane welcomes the audience in the pre-set and Mrs Malaprop’s house impressively opens up for the interior scenes. But most notably, Jeff Sugg’s video design makes full use of the stage and side walls of the auditorium for the flying scenes – they’re moments where I found myself sitting back and taking in the full scale of the Olivier.

In an interview with The FT, the playwrights hoped Jack Absolute… will not be ‘just a fluffy laugh factory’. Bean has a history of using broad-brush comedy to explore serious issues from England People Very Nice (2009) to Great Britain (2014). He’s also great at writing exceptionally funny plays with dramatic weight: The Nap (2016) and Toast (1999) for instance. Jack Absolute… is on the fluffier end of the scale but there is a darker side to the end of the play which culminates in another dogfight. The outcome of this throws the usual conventions of a comedy into doubt. It gives a bit of weight to proceedings but I understand if some might not be convinced by how needed this is.

The NT’s programming has come under a lot of scrutiny in the past couple of years and they’re due a hit. I don’t think Jack Absolute Flies Again will set the world alight in the way One Man, Two Guvnors did but it is popular fare that’s broadly entertaining, performed by a cast clearly having a good time on a set which makes impressive use of the Olivier. And there’s a nod to Quentin and Fletcher’s time on Strictly too!

Jack Absolute Flies Again plays at the National Theatre, Olivier until 3^rd September. It will be broadcast as part of NT Live on 6^th October.

The set of Jack Absolute Flies Again. Credit: Brinkhoff/Moegenburg

Rock / Paper / Scissors

 Crucible/Lyceum/Studio, Sheffield

22^nd June, 2022

“There is no new thing under the sun”

All three plays in Chris Bush’s Rock/Paper/Scissors triptych run in Sheffield Theatres’ three spaces simultaneously with one cast. The overall piece is a logistical coup-de-théâtre. It’s also a perfect coming together of space and place in three funny, achingly profound and heartful plays about a city and its people on the cusp of change.

Eddie, the owner of Spenser & Son’s scissor manufacturers, has died after 50 years of running the factory. Business has been struggling for some time and there’s now a question mark over its future. Set in present-day Sheffield across three locations in the factory, the plays explore the various stakeholders who all have a claim on what they’d like the space to be. From a nightclub or industrial chic making hub, to flats, to carrying on as a working factory, Rock/ Paper/ Scissors delves into the spaces and lives that make up the past, present and future of the city.

“I create”

In Rock, we see the main factory space. It now lays bare as it’s too expensive to heat and they don’t have enough orders coming in. But in Ben Stones’ design, it is still a magnificent space. Steel girders hold up a glass saw-tooth roof covered in moss, and several cast-iron radiators and small piles of sawdust are the only things on the vast floorspace. Coming all guns blazing into this is Eddie’s sister (his only blood relative) Susie, a punk legend of the 1970s who discovered some of the city’s finest bands. In a fierce performance from Denise Black, Susie – a sort-of anti-Madame Renevsky – wants to turn the place into a nightclub. Rebellious, uncompromising and an innovator, we see in her the effect of generations of patriarchy: ‘we were a waste product… The unwanted daughters of men who only wanted sons’. She also has an unshakeable belief in the power of creating something new.

‘This is a place of making’, ‘It was once’ sums up the notion of change at the centre of the three plays. For factory manager Omar, there is pleasure and integrity in the work itself. His passion for making something which will outlast him, in hammers which have moulded to workers’ hands over the decades is something which he believes should be conserved. On the other hand, is the steel industry dead? I particularly liked how the plays explore how we easily romanticise the past. Early on in Rock, Leo jokes that some art director in New York is trying to replicate the grime on the factory’s glass roof to achieve its quality of light: ‘that right there is history’. There’s a similar line early on in Paper where Faye is nostalgic over the smell of her dad’s old office: ‘I like it. It’s the stink of history’. The natural light in the factory also becomes a running joke. Everyone waxes lyrically over it to the extent it becomes futile. What’s the good of the natural light if the building’s not doing anything? Like in Alan Bennett’s People, it’s implied that there’s a danger in clinging onto the past just for the sake of preservation. Bush also explores the impact of Covid on such spaces. As a corporate design consultant (excellently played by Leo Wan) says, we don’t really know the purpose of city centres now. Factories and physical shops might be on the decline but there could be space for a destination ‘cathedral of making’ that will draw people in. In volatile times, perhaps there’s a new way to forge a future which is connected to the cultural heritage of a place. Bush firmly has her finger on the pulse of some of the city’s (and country’s) biggest issues.

“They’d feel like they were a part of something”

In Paper, we see Eddie’s step-daughter Faye and her partner Mel go through Eddie’s office ready to have the factory developed into flats. Janet Bird’s design fills the space with mountains of folders, a PC from the 90s and a giant pair of scissors that perhaps once adorned the front of the factory. Mel doesn’t romanticise the past, pragmatically saying, ‘it is history. It is past. People don’t need scissors’. On the other hand, Faye starts to see the value in the place. Led by two brilliant performances from Samantha Power and Natalie Casey, as the couple are considering how the factory could shape their future together, uneasy truths in the couple’s relationship unfold. Bush beautifully interweaves the play’s larger themes with character detail, finely balanced in Robert Hastie’s production.

“the bigger thing is wanting to have something that can’t get taken away”

In Scissors, we see a glimpse of the past itself as we’re invited to see inside the last vestiges of the scissor-making process. Scissors is a work play and there’s a fascination in watching people at work. The start of the play sees the four apprentices, each on a mere £4 per hour, making scissors: sharpening, polishing and checking blades. It’s meticulous and laborious but you can also see the level of care they put into it – director Elin Schofield also finds a playful musicality in this manual labour too. The play also explores the problems of four young people today. Shit wages and low prospects, but all committed to their work making something none of them can afford to buy and you can get cheaper on Amazon. It’s a reminder of young people’s resilience in times of crises. It also features a brilliant performance from Jabez Sykes as a brusque apprentice with a uniquely comical take on life which makes him wise beyond his years.

To write just one of these plays would’ve been an achievement. I can’t begin to fathom the scale of work involved in mounting all three. They’re big plays with breadth, depth and heart in which everyone is working at the top of their game. I’d be surprised if I see a more impressive piece of theatre this year.

Rock/Paper/Scissors play in Sheffield’s Crucible, Lyceum and Studio until 2^nd July. For further information please visit:

https://www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk/events/rock

https://www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk/events/paper

https://www.sheffieldtheatres.co.uk/events/scissors

Samantha Power and Natalie Casey in Paper (Photo by Johan Persson).

Maggie May

 Curve, Leicester

7^th June, 2022

“Pretending everything’s normal”

Two years after its scheduled run at Curve was cancelled due to Covid-19, Frances Poet’s play, co-produced by Curve, Queen's Theatre Hornchurch and Leeds Playhouse, opened last night. A finalist for the Susan Smith Blackburn Prize, Maggie May is a quietly devastating, often very funny, and surprisingly uplifting play about a woman living with dementia. Led by an exceptional central performance from Eithne Browne, Poet’s play doesn’t shy away from exploring the upsetting parts of the illness, whilst confidently showing that moments of joy, love and independence still exist after diagnosis.

Maggie May follows the story of a feisty woman from Leeds who tries to keep her Alzheimer’s diagnosis a secret from the world. She withdraws from friends and leaves notes for everything around the house. When her son and his new girlfriend visit, it’s clear she can no longer hide it from them. What I really liked about the play is that Poet makes the topic of dementia accessible. We see Maggie’s thought processes when she’s in a new situation: ‘I send signal to brain. Recognition’. We also hear her liken it to fog or a head full of treacle. Whereas Florian Zeller’s The Father has a clear trajectory of showing the title character’s illness decline, I really admire Poet’s more mature approach to portraying dementia on stage. Along with moments of confusion, there are also moments of lucidity. Late in the play, Maggie is still someone who is autonomous, pragmatic and even pro-active with her illness, having taken on a job as a dementia ambassador. And the darker moments are explained in an accessible way which make them less daunting. For example, when Maggie experiences delirium caused by a water infection, she likens it to her body trying to juggle two balls in one hand and it can’t cope when another one is thrown in. Eithne Browne in the title role gives a really touching performance as Maggie. We fully believe this is a strong Leeds woman who’s led a full life (running a kitchen, doing her son’s accounts, caring for her husband following a stroke), and Browne captures Maggie’s fears, determination and humour beautifully. Maggie is a character with dementia, not defined by it.

In 2021, it’s estimated that over 1 million people in the UK were living with a form of dementia. The arts have a vital part to play, from delaying its onset and diminishing its severity, to improving the quality of life for those with the condition and their carers. Gemima Levick’s excellent production is therefore doing crucial work in ensuring that the play has been conceived to be accessible for people living with dementia. Characters wear the same colour scheme throughout (Gordon in brown, Claire in purple, Maggie in grey); and captions highlighting Maggie’s thought processes accompany each scene to help audiences follow the narrative. It is a remarkable achievement that all areas of the production (writing, direction, design, front of house) are involved in making the play as accessible as possible. Nicky Taylor’s team at Leeds Playhouse (formerly West Yorkshire Playhouse) have done ground-breaking work to make theatre inclusive for people living with dementia. Their 2014 production of White Christmas (directed by Nikolai Foster) held the UK’s first dementia friendly performance, and they have since produced a practical guide to adapting productions to create a safe space for those living with the illness. Foster has continued to champion this work as Artistic Director of Curve and dementia friendly performances are now a frequent fixture of its calendar. They increase opportunities for people with dementia to access life-enhancing shows, reconnect them to their local theatres and reaffirm theatre’s role in society through connecting communities. A shout out must also go to the front of house team at Curve. They’re always friendly and helpful, but they’ve gone the extra mile to ensure a safe space has been created. A booth in the foyer highlights the many local resources available and acts as a quiet space for visitors to reflect on the play. Leaflets from the Alzheimer's Society have also been placed in the bar to provide further information. This is a brilliant example of how theatres are a central hub in a community, forging partnerships with purpose in the local area and ensuring everyone’s included.

Francis O’Connor’s design creates Maggie’s world with furniture coming on stage on tracks. The way the dining table and bed move are particularly clever in showing how the illness can fragment parts of the home life. The supporting cast all do a fine job, especially Shireen Farkhoy’s ever-optimistic Claire and Tony Timberlake as Maggie’s husband Gordon, singing songs and seeing the bright side to help her through. I also really liked the play’s use of Harry Potter and how Maggie’s relationship with the books changes throughout the play. We all know Harry Potter and I think its inclusion helps to further root the play in a recognisable world. Really inspiring work!

Maggie May plays at Curve, Leicester until 11^th June. All performances are dementia friendly. For further information, please visit https://www.curveonline.co.uk/whats-on/shows/maggie-may-2/

The Dementia Friendly performance of Billy Elliot at Curve is scheduled for 11th August, 2.15pm and of The Wizard of Oz is on 4th January 2023, 2.15pm.

Tony Timberlake and Eithne Browne in Maggie May. Credit: Zoe Martin

Cluedo

 Curve, Leicester

6^th June, 2022

“Let the game begin”

Mark Bell’s production of Cluedo, adapted from Sandy Rustin’s US play which itself is based on Jonathan Lynn’s screenplay of the 1985 film Clue, has been transposed to 1940s England. Based on the classic British boardgame, the play is a mashup of an Agatha Christie-esque murder mystery crossed with a farce in the style of Mischief Theatre. Whilst there are plenty of twists and turns in this whodunnit, loosely set upon a backdrop of scandal and corruption, the main thing I was left scratching my head at was where did the whole thing go wrong? Rustin’s play is apparently one of the most performed in the US at the moment (there are productions in 13 different states in June alone!). Whereas her play is set in McCarthy era Washington DC, she does have form writing plays in the style of English farces with her play The Cottage (2014). Likewise, Bell comes with a string of successful comedies under his name having previously directed The Play that Goes Wrong (seen here last month) and The Comedy About a BankRobbery. It’s a shame, then, that Cluedo, in trying to be both a murder mystery and a farce, doesn’t live up to the expectations of either.

As Tory MPs lined up to vote in a confidence vote in Westminster last night, corruption at the heart of government and British society is also at the centre of Cluedo’s plot. Six strangers are invited to a country manor one stormy evening, all of whom are being blackmailed by their host for various ‘indiscretions’. Inspired by the events of the Lynskey Tribunal which found criminal activities happening in the upper echelons of British society, the play exposes the hypocrisies of those upholding a charade of decency. One character’s proclamation of ‘I’m not involved in any corruption. I’m a Conservative’ certainly strikes a chord. But the play’s pertinence ends there. The host is murdered during a blackout and the body count quickly rises. What follows is a murder mystery romp in which the only form of tension is from a loud thunderclap sound effect.

The characters, as you’d expect from those in the boardgame, are mostly stereotypes. Colonel Mustard, for instance, is reduced to spoonerisms and cheap puns: ‘You’ve all been given pseudonyms tonight’, ‘It’s OK, I took something for my hay fever before I got here’; ‘Do you like Kipling?’, ‘Oh, I’ll eat anything’. But it is typical of the play’s inconsistencies and missed opportunities that at one point, having spent all of act one punning, that he asks ‘how can you joke at a time like this?’ without a hint of irony or humour. But because of their two-dimensional nature, it’s difficult to really care about any of them. Daniel Casey is having a good time as the plummy stiff upper-lipped Professor Plum, and Meg Travers (on for Michelle Collins) nicely portrays the cunning side of the femme fatale Miss Scarlett. Overall, I appreciate the characters are supposed to be stereotypes but I think more could have been done to play up the cartoonish caricatures which push the boundaries of the play’s faithfulness to the boardgame. Mostly, the cast don’t have much to play with resulting in weak characterisations.

If there are any saving graces, the production runs along at a nice pace and there’s an amusing moment in the second act involving a slow-motion falling chandelier. But apart from that it feels like the play gives up in the second half. A random singing telegram arrives, there’s an excruciating moment of fake corpsing, and the jokes start to feel repetitive. Successful farces are often best played naturistically and work because you feel none of the characters want to be there, but I never really felt that the stakes were particularly high here. They also tend to find their own groove from which the momentum builds. If a singing telegram turned up in a Mischief Theatre production, which tend to reach the delirious heights of hilarity, it would probably work. But in Cluedo, it just felt flat.

David Farley’s design is enjoyably playful. Seven doors line the edge of the set in a nod to Marc Camoletti’s Boeing Boeing. These fold out to reveal inner rooms you’d expect to find in the boardgame and complement Anna Healey’s movement rather well to give the effect that the cast are roaming around a country mansion. But, overall, I can’t help but think this is best kept on the shelf.

Cluedo plays at Curve, Leicester until 11^th June as part of a UK tour. For further information, please visit https://www.cluedostageplay.com/

Daniel Casey and Michelle Collins in Cluedo. Credit: Craig Sugden.

School of Rock

 Curve, Leicester

30^th May, 2022

 

‘Do it just as loudly as you can

Stick it to the man!’

 

School of Rock presents the recipe for a perfect 21^st Century family musical. A simple story with likeable characters and a heart-warming message, played out to a soundtrack of bombastic, foot-tapping tunes. I’ve previously described it as being as if Matilda and Rock of Ages have been chucked in a blender, and the result is just as electric as you’d imagine. It’s no wonder then, that School of Rock has provided Andrew Lloyd Webber with that elusive, bankable ‘hit’ he’s been seeking for the past couple of decades.

If you’ve seen the 2003 film the musical is pretty familiar fare which sticks closely to the source material, which is a plus, as Julian Fellows’s book succeeds in its modest structure which lets the laugh out loud humour and touching moments of sentiment shine. Among the most enjoyable scenes are those taking place in the classroom. The chemistry and interplay between lovable loser turned substitute teacher, Dewey Finn, and the straight-laced kids of Horace Green prep school is sharp, often surprising and genuinely funny. The kids’ backstories are further developed by Fellows, leading to the incredibly sweet ‘If Only You Would Listen’; a plea for acceptance from parents that either can’t or won’t have time for their children’s growing independence and desire for connection.

Lloyd Webber’s songs (with lyrics by Glenn Slater) fit well alongside the existing songs from the film (‘School of Rock (Teacher’s Pet)’; ‘In the End of Time’). ‘You’re In The Band’ is a rocking sequence, showcasing the kids’ individual talents with gleeful enthusiasm, while the eleven o’clock number, ‘Where Did The Rock Go?’ gets the balance between elegy and pastiche just right, humanising the stuffy Head Teacher, Miss Mullins. But the standout number is the anarchic anthem, ‘Stick It To The Man’, children and adults alike can’t help but want to be up on that stage with the band, ‘kicking ass’! The song is a thunderous wall of sound and the rebellious message has unsurprisingly become the global motif for the show.

The cast work their socks off; the talent displayed by the young actors is undeniably impressive – quadruple threats at the age of 10! – and the thrilling live music elevates the musical further by recreating the buzzing atmosphere of a rock concert. The children also display impeccable comic timing, the young actors playing Billy and Lawrence in particular are absolute scene stealers. Rebecca Lock is endearing as the high-strung Miss Mullins, her voice soaring whether singing in crystalline soprano or belting out a power ballad. Jake Sharp gives a star-making performance as big kid, Dewey Finn, endowing the role with charisma and wit while avoiding turning the part into a Jack Black impersonation. Sharp’s relentless energy and palpable joy really hold the show together, and his searing vocals are authentically rock’n’roll.

School of Rock is the feel-good musical that we need right now, and it was lovely to see such a varied audience on a Monday evening at Curve. From young families to veteran rockers sporting their favourite band tour t-shirts; Lloyd Webber, Slater and Fellows have crafted a musical for everyone to enjoy. The message conferring the transformative benefits of musical and artistic education is a very worthy one, but that aside, School of Rock is simply a rollicking, gleeful night of fun!

School of Rock plays at Curve, Leicester until 4^th June 2022.

For full tour dates please visit: https://uktour.schoolofrockthemusical.com/tour-dates/

Jake Sharp and the company of School of Rock. Credit: Paul Coltas

The Play that Goes Wrong

 Curve, Leicester

9^th May, 2022

“The snow’s coming down thick”

The Cornley Polytechnic Drama Society are back again with their production of the classic thriller The Murder at Haversham Manor, which we last reviewed on tour in 2017. You’d think the society would have had a lot of time to sort their act out since then. But I’m delighted to say that, in the time that’s passed, it’s still an utterly calamitous affair: two hours of under-rehearsed amateurs upstaging each other on a dangerous set in a rickety war-horse of a play. But of course, it isn’t really! This is The Play that Goes Wrong, a farce that’s hilarious from start to set-crashing finish in which a terrible amateur drama society attempts to stage a 1920s’ murder mystery.

The Mousetrap was one of the last plays we saw before the pandemic. It was the first time my wife had seen it but she had seen The Play that Goes Wrong. I admit there were parts of it where we found ourselves holding back laughing which reminded us of The Murder at Haversham Manor. In The Play that Goes Wrong, every element of a theatrical farce is wrung to its full potential: Actors wrestle with bits of the set falling apart, doors become stuck, characters mistime their entrances and get lost in the script. Colin Burnicle is particularly impressive as the Director-cum-Inspector. He has the farceur’s knack of trying to keep everything together when it’s clearly falling apart, and is especially funny in a 10 minute side-track dealing with hecklers in the audience. Aisha Numah and Beth Lilly also play off each other really nicely as the stagey actress Sandra and the ASM who gets a taste of her limelight. Kazeem Tosin Amore is also very funny as Robert, an actor who’s love for the game is tested to the limit when forced to drink numerous glasses of white spirit and is almost crushed by furniture on a collapsing platform. But this is an ensemble piece and the whole company make it look effortless. Mischief Theatre’s original show remains an unstoppable sensation ten years on from its premiere in a pub theatre. Now a global hit and having spawned a BBC series and other Goes Wrong spin offs, this latest tour maintains its breathless energy. It’s also great to see it flourish at a time when the mid-large scale touring market is struggling.

When I first saw the West End production, I noted that what really drives the play’s momentum is the notion of carrying on, something which many amateur or student drama groups have enjoyed (perhaps endured!). In farce, no one particularly wants to be in the position that they’re in. But what makes The Play that Goes Wrong special is that, as hapless as the characters might be, they are doing it for the love of theatre. The idea of carrying on, that the show must go on, has gained new relevance in the past couple of years, and this show is all the more joyous for it!

The Play that Goes Wrong plays at Curve, Leicester, until 14^th May as part of a UK tour. For further dates, please visit https://www.mischiefcomedy.com/theplaythatgoeswrong-uk-tour/uk-tour/tour-dates

Members from the original cast are returning to the production in Manchester (30^th May-4^th June) and Newcastle (6^th-11^th June).

Colin Burnicle in The Play that Goes Wrong. Credit: Robert Day