REVIEW: Before the World Ends (Cerys Evans, 2023)

Every now and then, you go to see something entirely new, and are absolutely blown away by it. 

This was the experience by our little group at the debut performance of Before the World Ends, a new science fiction play by Cerys Evans. Performed by Cerys's own Open Handed Theatre Company at The Actors in Brighton, in a tiny and intimate performance space, as part of FemFest 2023, Before the World Ends is a very different creation to Cerys's previous show, A Trans Fairytale. Full disclosure: Cerys is a good friend of mine, but I don't give good reviews to things I don't rate, even when I like the person who wrote them (I just hide and try not to make eye contact and try to think of excuse for next time). I knew Before the World Ends would be good, but I wasn't prepared for just how good.

With a cast of only six, performing nine roles, it's a very tight production, made with minimal set dressing and props, relying on the talents of the actors and some immersive sound and light design to do the script justice. Realising a world through so little visual material is tough, especially when you're setting the entire thing in the future, but the production handles it with ease.

The story is set in two main time zones: 2027 and 3027. Our focus in the further future is Nicola (Sophie Bloor), trying to work her way up the ladder at a museum of ancient history - specifically the 21st century, a time period that just doesn't draw in the crowds anymore. When she discovers an archaic phone that can somehow communicate through time, she is accidentally connected to Barry (Sam Gibbons), living a thousand years earlier and blissfully unaware that his new phone buddy is interested in more than market research.

Nicola can't help but try to learn from Barry. Not the specifics of the events at the close of 2027 - in spite of a spotty historical record, there seems to be no confusion of the important events - but just how people living then could close their eyes to the devastation around them. As Nicola connects with Barry, she comes to question whether the people of the 21st century were really as selfish and blind as they're believed to be, or whether there is something more to it. Surely they can't be all that different?

I hate when sf material is self-consciously justified as being "a drama first," but that's a very apt way to describe this play, which balances the brutality and heartache of mundane life with futuristic speculation. Nicola's personal and professional life could just as easily be taking place today, and while in some science fiction that would be a weakness, here it reinforces the idea that people are just people, doing the best they can wherever and whenever they live. Nicolas has to contend with an abusive partner and an unimpressed boss, all the while trying to balance her new cross-temporal friendship. For his part, Barry has to struggle with an elderly, disabled mother, as well as the unending "one thing after another" of 21st century life that makes the plight of the wider world seem so far away.

The play deals primarily with climate change and collective responsibility, but also touches on domestic violence, bereavement, the ups and downs of technological progress and cultural misunderstandings, and very briefly touches on gender identity. If there's one complaint, it's that in it's ninety minute runtime there isn't room to explore all of these in depth, and the story could be greatly expanded to a full length play or film, or even beyond to a television series. As it stands, though, it's an extremely focused story.

If this all sounds heavy going, then fear not: Before the World Ends is also frequently hilarious. The main events are given context by Patrick McHugh's brilliant museum guide, who gives poignant and often ridiculous notes to 21st century events and artifacts. McHugh is one of the actors playing dual roles, along with Madeleine Hawkey and Aurea Williamson. Plays with limited casts often struggle with this, but here each actor makes their characters completely distinct. Everyone is excellent, of course, but I feel particular praise must go to Bloor and Gibbons in their lead performances, and Sokratis Kyria for his terrifying turn as Nicola's partner. 

As events in 2027 deteriorate around Barry, and the aftereffects are felt in 3027 and even beyond, the story turns bleak. Ultimately, though, it's a hopeful story, showing us how we can make a difference, even if it's only a small one, and that understanding each other is perhaps the most important thing of all.

Sadly, this was a one-off performance for now, but Cerys has plans for future performances. To the future.

REVIEW: A Christmas Carol (Alexandra Palace 2021-2)

 

A Christmas Carol is one of my absolute favourite stories of all time, and has had dozens, maybe hundreds of adaptations for audio, stage and screen over the centuries. Each version makes its own changes, some more faithful than others, and each focuses on a different aspect of the original.

One aspect that rarely gets enough focus, in my opinion, is the horror of the story. A Christmas Carol is, after all, first and foremost a ghost story, and Scrooge is terrified for much of it. Thankfully, if unsurprisingly, Mark Gatiss is of the same opinion, and his new stage adaptation of the classic ramps up the spookiness.

Suz and I managed to see this almost as late as we possibly could. First it was delayed by a year due to Covid, but had it not been we might not have had the chance to see it at all. We received the tickets as a Christmas gift from my dad but were away most of the festive season, we couldn't see it until January 8^th, the last Saturday of its run at Alexandra Palace and the penultimate performance. Fortunately, it was a Christmassy enough production to get us feeling festive all over again.

Ally Pally is the perfect place to hold the play. The restored theatre in the BBC's old flagship building is a wonderful venue for a Victorian play, suitably atmospheric. We were also lucky to get front row stalls, and although our seats were actually missing when we arrived, they were some of the best in the house once they were returned to their correct location. It's not surprising to see Gatiss tackle A Christmas Carol, after multiple adaptations of Victorian classics including Sherlock and Dracula, sundry Christmas ghost stories for the BBC and, of course, one of my favourite episodes of modern Doctor Who, “The Unquiet Dead,” which saw Dickens himself beset by extraterrestrial ghosts on Christmas Eve. I wouldn't be at all surpised to learn that he chose the venue specifically as well, after he had the Doctor scale the transmission tower at Ally Pally in the following season's “The Idiot's Lantern.” But I digress.

Anyone else adapting the story and starring in it would cast themselves as Scrooge himself, but Gatiss instead plays Jacob Marley, who was, as we all know, dead to begin with. Except in this version he isn't, in fact, thanks to a prologue scene in which Scrooge and Marley enjoy a jolly game of humbug one-up-manship, one Christmas Eve before Marley conks it at his desk. The book's biting sense of humour is present throughout, not least Scrooge quickly extinguishing Marley's candle noting “Waste not, want not.”

Nicholas Farrell of The Crown and Chariots of Fire makes an excellent Scrooge, decked out in ragged and archaic dress even by the standards of 1843. He's as cruel and miserly as they come to begin with, but there's always an undercurrent of humour that makes his gentler, earlier self, and his new beginnings, believably hidden beneath. It's not long before the phantoms make themselves known, with Gatiss manifesting a flamboyant and undulating Marley to deliver upon Scrooge his warning. Elements of the story that are so often often forgotten are included in this production, including the parade of spirits that sweep Marley away. The various ghosts of the production are given shape by a brilliant mixture of techniques: holography, puppetry, lighting trick and remotely-operated props. As is the tradition, most of the actors take on multiple roles, with Gatiss appearing as sundry grotesques including Scrooge's schoolmaster and even the Ghost of Christmas Future, revealed as Marley once more beneath the cowl.

Before this, of course, we get the two other main festive spirits. Christmas Past, so often visualised as a young girl or occasionally an old man, is in the original story a fluid, complex being manifesting at all ages and genders simultaneously. Such a good move then, to cast the charismatic non-binary actor Jo Eaton-Kent (recently seen in The Watch and probably the best thing in it), as comfortable playing cockney butchers and sailors as they are a genderless spirit. Towering over Scrooge and as threatening as they are angelic, the Ghost of Christmas Past dominates their scenes even as we see Scrooge's past brought to life vividly. The set, spartan but beautifully crafted, shifts to accommodate the changing times and places.

The Ghost of Christmas Present is portrayed by Joe Shire, who you may recognise from Witness for the Prosecution or heard in a number of Big Finish's audioplays. For integrity's sake I have to say, I do know Joe a little, and so was particularly looking forward to seeing him in the role. He is perfect as Christmas Present, balancing the ghost's jolly persona with his underlying anger and judgment. Another rarely included aspect, the lesser ghosts of Want and Ignorance, are manifested under his robe, by way of two creepy puppets operated by the youngest members of the cast. As well as the ghost, Joe plays the ebulliant Fezziwig, leading a raucous festive dance, along with various other parts of great range.

As perfectly realised as the ghosts are, the whole cast is excellent and make every scene captivating. Edward Harrison of Wolf Hall is a charming Bob Cratchit, with Sarah Ridgeway almost stealing the scene as Mrs Cratchit among other roles. James Beckway is a forthright and cheerful nephew Fred, as well as portraying the younger Scrooge, the up-and-coming businessman. Zak Ford-Williams plays several roles as well, including Tiny Tim and the younger Marley, impressively channelling the optimism of the former and the grasping greed of the latter with equal ease. The great Christopher Godwin (Amadeus) acts as narrator, bringing essential parts of Dickens' prose to life, and the eventual reveal of his actual identity is a beautiful touch.

Heartwarming and chilling in equal measure, this was one of the best adaptations of the story I have been fortunate enough to see.

REVIEW: Pride & Prejudice* (*sort of)

 

On Friday night, the missus and I were at the end of a nice day out in the Smoke and decided to stop by one of those ticket kiosks that dot the West End to see if we could grab a last-minute theatre ticket. It was Black Friday, after all, so there was bound to be some fantastic bargain out there.

It turned out a lot of people had the same idea, so there weren't very many affordable seats left – at least, not together, and we didn't really want to sit at opposite ends of the theatre. There were plenty of shows on we'd heard of, but they were mostly very pricey, and anyway, the whole point of a last-minute ticket is to try something unexpected.

So, we ended up getting tickets to Pride & Prejudice* (*sort of) at the Criterion Theatre in Piccadilly. We'd not heard of this one; I mean, we'd heard of Pride and Prejudice. Suzanne has even read it. An all-female, OTT-comedy take on the 1813 novel, it sounded like our sort of thing. We thought it would be a laugh, but didn't expect anything, well, special. What we got was an absolutely brilliant show, one of the best evenings we've had at the theatre in years.

The fact that I'm not particularly into the works of Austen probably accounts for this play completely passing me by since it premiered at the Tron in Glasgow in 2018. It started its UK tour in late 2019, before getting stalled by the pandemic in 2020 just like everything else. Restarting in October this year, it deserves to be a monster hit. Written by, co-directed by and co-starring Isobel McArthur, it updates the satire of the original novel into a raucous, foul-mouthed and flamboyant modern take. It's a hotch-potch of anachronisms – the characters can't quite seem to decide if its the 18^th century or the 21^st – but this only adds to the air of chaotic fun.

The five members of the cast each play one of the serving staff who work uncelebrated in Austen's world, themselves reenacting the story by taking on various roles. McArthur herself portrays both Mrs Bennett (who sounds exactly like Blackadder the Third's Mrs Miggins) and a very dashing Mr Darcy. Meghan Tyler is a boisterously Irish Elizabeth, dominating her scenes. Christina Gordon spends most of the play as Jane, but also gives us hilarious performances as Lady Catherine and Mr Wickham. Hannah Jarrett-Scott is both the Bingley siblings, Charlotte and the main servant character, Tilly. Tori Burgess rounds out the cast as two of the remaining Bennett sisters. With whip-fast costume changes and a variety of accents, the actors jump between roles with aplomb.

The direction and choreography are spot-on, with perfect timing and positioning making for precise physical comedy, complementing a tight and fantastically funny script. Anacronistic props add comedy to a minimalist but cleverly constructed set, with the biggest laugh of the night going to the filthy skip wheeled in, emblazoned with the legend “JANE AUST-BIN.” Most of the jokes are smarter than that, but who doesn't love a shocking pun?

There are songs, but it's not a musical – more of a karaoke theatre experience. The multi-talented cast sing and perform all manner of instruments, giving us songs from everyone from Elvis Costello and Pulp to Bonnie Tyler, and even some Divine Comedy. It's practically my playlist, with the notable exception of the works of Master Christopher de Bourgh. The second half tones down the comedy a little, bringing in the feels for a beautiful finale.

With an incredibly talented cast and fantastic comic writing, Pride & Prejudice* (*sort of) is a brilliant, touching and absurd take on one of the greats of literary fiction. It might even get me to read the book.

REVIEW: Back to the Future - The Musical!

 

This could easily have been terrible. I mean, we'd still have enjoyed it, the missus and I; we went to see the long-delayed West End performance of the musical for Suzanne's birthday, the original being her absolute favourite film and all. The thing is, when you adore something that much, even a naff cash-in will bring you some enjoyment. That's how the tie-in industry works. But even casual fans of Back to the Future have to admit that's it's an exceptionally good film. Sure, there are a couple of problems, but honestly, it's a near-perfect combination of a meticulous script and production. It would be extraordinarily difficult to do it justice on stage.

And yet, they've managed it. The BttF musical is an absolute blast. Song-wise, it's a bit of a mixed bag. There are naturally a few songs that were inevitably going to be in there: “The Power of Love,” “Johnny B. Goode,” “Earth Angel,” even “Back in Time,” they're all in. There's some clever use of the main theme. Some of the songs really work, in particular Doc's song about dreamers – almost a companion piece to “The Rainbow Connection.” It's rather lovely. On the other hand, a lot of the songs are forgettable, ten-a-penny musical types. They serve their purpose to illustrate a scene then disappear. The only real clunker, though, is the bizarre opening number to the second half, an entirely pointless sci-fi song-and-dance that's clear filler. Overall, though, the songs work, they fit the scenes and, in many cases, help push the story's themes better than the dialogue alone.

The script is nicely done, a decent adaptation that keeps the best elements of the original while still offering something a bit different. There are some dialogue changes that purists might balk at, but at least it keeps things interesting – it's no fun if you can quote absolutely everything the first time you see it. The story's streamlined, with less jumping around locations and far fewer vehicles. There are no Libyan terrorists now, probably wisely, and while the skateboard chase is missed, it's understandable why, considering how hard it would be to make this work on a fairly small stage.

Altogether, though, the play is a visual and technical triumph. The combination of a complex movable set, ingenious props and dynamic and just-retro-enough video effects is spectacular. It's technically incredibly impressive, and it's never still, for even a single scene. Most impressive, though, is the DeLorean itself: a remarkable mechanical prop that drives, flies and appears out of nowhere to a familiar burst of light and sound.

It'd be nothing without a great cast, of course. Olly Dobson, who played Marty when the musical premiered in Manchester, is brilliant as the lead. He channels Michael J. Fox perfectly, and has great chemistry with the rest of the cast. Both his on-stage parents are spot-on too. Rosanna Hyland is excellent as Lorraine – somehow evoking Lea Thompson even more when she's playing the middle-aged version – but the most impressive is Hugh Coles as George. Making his West End debut, he gets George absolutely right, recalling Crispin Glover with uncanny skill.

Cedric Neal, who plays Marvin Berry and Goldie Wilson – the latter with an expanded role – is a scene-stealer, although he sadly doesn't give the “MaaAAAAAyyyooooorrrrr” that I was holding out for. Aiden Cutler makes Biff a more pathetic figure than in the film, a bit more sympathetic but still a root-against villain. Roger Bart, a recognisable face and a voice you'll have heard before, steals the show as Doc Brown. He wisely doesn't try to imitate Christopher Lloyd's performance – which would surely be doomed to failure – but instead gives us an inspired pastiche, somehow even more over-the-top than Lloyd's version. His performance is hilarious, but heartfelt, and he climbs an imaginary staircase as well as anyone I've seen.

The script, which was written by Bob Gale and Rob Zemeckis themselves, isn't as carefully crafted as the impeccable original, but is perhaps deeper, giving more time to the characters' relationships. We get a true sense of Doc and Marty's friendship that didn't fully come across until the final scenes of the first film, and Marty and George get more time to bond and get to know one another. Lorraine's incestuous infatuation with Marty is more intense, seeing as they can get away with slightly dodgier jokes now. Her infatuation with “Calvin Klein” is even reflected by Biff, who seems almost in love with Marty himself, he's so obsessed with facing him. One of the film's underlying themes, that “You can doo anything if you put your mind to it,” is brought to the fore and becomes a recurring motif. On the other side, there's a reflection on just how disappointing the twenty-first century has turned out to be, with Doc dreaming of a world with no poverty, no famine... no disease...

Silly, joyful, a touch satirical and full of energy, it's one of the most enjoyable musical's I've had the pleasure to see performed. Thoroughly recommended.

REVIEW: The Wider Earth

I'm very late to get on the bandwagon with this one. The Wider Earth began showing in October and was intended to continue only until the end of the year, but thankfully has been extended to the 24th of February, meaning that there will be both time to take the kids in half term, and for it to commemorate Darwin's birthday on Tuesday the 12th.

For my own birthday (two weeks early, in fact, but busy lives these days), my lovely lady Suzanne took me to see the play. Written by David Morton, who co-founded the Dead Puppet Society that realises the production, the play is held in the Natural History Museum, and appropriate venue if ever there was one, in a gallery-turned-theatre for this short run. A small but remarkable rotating set holds the production, swivelling between the wilds of nature and the confines of civilisation in front of a panoramic screen which shows graphics, maps and captions. We were sat very near the front, where the screen is somewhat obscured by the set but with a fantastic view of the actors and puppetry.

Bradley Foster plays the young Charles Darwin, in a story which takes him from the end of his college days, through the HMS Beagle's five-year mission and back to England. Darwin is so often visualised as a venerable old man, full of beard, that it's easy to forget that he was only twenty-two when he set out on his voyage on the Beagle. Foster plays him with youthful enthusiasm and wonder, a little twee at times but always charming. The rest of the cast fulfil multiple roles. For instance the elder statesmen of the show, Ian Houghton and Andrew Bridgmont; the former plays Darwin's father and Christian missionary Richard Matthews, and the latter plays three roles, of Darwin's teacher Prof. Henslow, his friend, the physicist and astronomer John Herschel, and a sailor on the Beagle. As well as this, the cast beyond Foster also work as puppeteers, animating the remarkable contraptions that form the animals of the play, from marine iguana to giant tortoises to the ancient Glyptodon. The use of puppets to recreate animals from Tierra del Fuego to Galapagos to Australia is the most remarkable part of the production (even though a side effect of using the main cast is that it sometimes looks like Darwin's crewmates are playing an elaborate prank on him).

The script is heavy in the exposition but performed with enough enthusiasm that it works and never bores. While Darwin is given enormous credit for changing the face of science, the play makes it clear he did not act alone, building on the observations and theories of Charles Lyall and other naturalists. There's also some social commentary to the play, touching not only on the expected spiritual debate but the then-contemporary debates of slavery and "civilising" the other peoples of the world. It's wrapped up in the adventures and crises of the Beagle's voyage, eventful and powerful in itself - the story of Captain Robert FitzRoy (Jack Parry-Jones) is a fascinating tale in itself, and he was only four years older than Darwin.

The best part, though, was seeing kids enraptured by everything that was happening in front of them. A captivating production.

REVIEW: A Christmas Carol - Jack Thorne, The Old Vic

I adore A Christmas Carol. I read it pretty much every year. And so I was thrilled to have the opportunity to see the latest stage version at the The Old Vic in London, scripted by Jack Thorne and starring Rhys Ifans as Ebenezer Scrooge. It was, in a word, wonderful.

The stage in central to the theatre, constructed from cash boxes beneath Victorian street lanterns. The stage is simplistic but ingeniously operated, the world of the play made up from doorframes, sound effects and faux snow. The frontmost rows of the audience are practically on the stage, and by the boisterous, glorious finale, Scrooge is running amongst the aisles, the entire theatre brought into the production.

The best adaptations of classical material are frequently those that take the greatest liberties with the source text, and this newest version of A Christmas Carol is a good example. While it is true to the spirit of the novel (pardon the pun), it has been heavily rewritten, with only the best remembered and most essential lines retained. The events that are visited through Scrooge's past, present and future vary significantly from what we see in the novel, although there are also elements retained that are usually forgotten. The strength of the production lies not only in the new script, but in how vividly and powerfully it is brought to life.

Ifans is astonishingly good as Scrooge, taking his place as one of the very best. His Scrooge is hairy, unkempt, clad in threadbare robes and physically aged, but full of life. It is a very bitter sort of life, though, making him the loudest, coursest, most intimidating version of Scrooge I've seen, shouting, bullying and spitting his way through the performance. (Really, I felt for those people in the front row.) As he is taken back through time, we see him as a young boy (played well by Jamie Cameron), but soon Ifans steps into the role, straightening up and taking on a youthful vigour as Scrooge relives the essential moments of his life.

Most adaptations give greater significance to Belle than the novel does, making her a major factor in his callous outlook, rather than merely a victim of it, and this version in particular follows her further in her life than is usual. In this version, Belle is the daughter of Fezziwig, streamlining the backstory somewhat, and is charmingly played by Erin Doherty. A major change from the usual storyline is the attention given to Scrooge's home life as a boy and young man, giving him a hypocritical hatred of his penny-pinching father (Alex Gaumond, who also portrays a desolate and distraught Marley). These scenes also give a lot of time to Scrooge's sister, Little Fan, later mother of his nephew Fred, who is portrayed with great spirit and sympathy by Melissa Allan.

Almost every member of the cast takes at least two roles, most of them taking on duties as group narrators, and several of them taking on two major roles in the story. Particularly good are John Dagliesh as a likeable, open-faced Bob Cratchit, Alastair Parker as an especially ebullient Fezziwig, and Golda Rosheuvel as Mrs. Fezziwig and the Ghost of Christmas Present.

It's always fascinating to see how the three Ghosts of Christmas will be portrayed, especially on stage when special effects and visual trickery are limited. Here, unusually, we have an all-female role call of festive phantoms (Marley notwithstanding), who appear as part of the same class of spirit, rather than the strange assembly we have described in the novel. Initially, the Ghost of Christmas Future is visualised by the entire extended cast, veiled in black, swarming Scrooge, before a single character from his past is brought back to stand for the ghost in one of the most effective changes to the story.

Tiny Tim is played by four different children, each one taking turns of different performances. When I saw it, Grace Fincham played the youngest Cratchit. She gave an absolutely beautiful performance that put me to tears. Even as Tim's fate - far more immediately portrayed here than usual - affects Scrooge terribly, he remains defiant in the face of the ghosts for a long time. Perhaps the most effective change is to Scrooge's funeral, where, instead of being empty, sees people from his life attend to read eulogies and declare that they do indeed hold love for him, in spite of his attempts to push them away. I'm tempted to say it improves upon the original in this regard, making a powerful and positive effect on Scrooge's attitude rather than frightening him with something negative. When it comes to the climactic finale, Scrooge really is a changed man, Ifans taking the aggressive energy from before and channelling it into a joyful, exuberent, Doctorish performance. The entire audience is invited to his "invasion" of the Cratchits' home, before everything quietens down for the final, beautiful moments.