Review: Evita at the Orchard Theatre

Sometimes it’s a bit of a shock to realise how long the shows I grew up with have been around (which in turn makes me feel old… but let’s not go there). While Evita – written by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice in 1976 and first performed in the West End two years later – isn’t one I saw on stage until my 20s, I do remember watching the movie version starring Madonna and Antonio Banderas all the way back in 1996. Back then I didn’t necessarily follow all the political context of the story, but I loved the music and was fascinated by the rags to riches tale of a teenage girl from a rural town, who rose to become First Lady of Argentina and “Spiritual Leader of the Nation” – only to die from cancer at the age of just 33.

Photo credit: Pamela Raith Photography

Now Evita is back on tour, and bringing the story of Eva Perón, second wife of Argentine dictator Juan Perón, to a new generation. Starring Wicked‘s Emma Hatton and Italian actor Gian Marco Schiaretti – who recently played Tarzan in Stuttgart – this lavish production from Bill Kenwright is both entertaining and educational, a love story with added politics, and a great deal of style. And whether or not you follow all the ins and outs of Argentine history, it’s a fascinating insight into how a celebrity with no knowledge of politics can power their way to the top by sheer determination. Which makes you wonder if we’ll all be watching an equally tragic – for different reasons – show about Trump in 40 years’ time (if so may I suggest a working title of Covfefe: The Musical).

Not entirely surprisingly, West End star Emma Hatton gives a commanding and vocally flawless performance, just as much when Eva’s crumpled on the ground in the last days of her life as when she’s at the height of her power, performing the show-stopping Don’t Cry For Me Argentina to an adoring crowd. Alongside her, relative newcomer Gian Marco Schiaretti more than holds his own as the omnipresent Che, hitting just the right mix of Latin charm, arrogance and helplessness – and some impressive, not to mention unexpected, high notes. The two have excellent support from Kevin Stephen-Jones as Perón, Oscar Balmaseda as Eva’s first lover (and ticket to the big city) Magaldi, and Sarah O’Connor as the unnamed Mistress, a seemingly minor character who nonetheless wows the crowd with one of the show’s best-known numbers, Another Suitcase in Another Hall.

Photo credit: Pamela Raith Photography

With Bill Deamer’s lively choreography that takes inspiration both from the Latin American setting and the oppressive atmosphere of a military dictatorship, and an imposing set designed by Matthew Wright, Evita transports us to 1940s Argentina in a dazzling and fast-moving spectacle that only begins to slow down when its protagonist does. 40 years old the show may be, but the passion and energy of this production prove there’s plenty of life in Evita yet.

Evita is at the Orchard Theatre until 3rd June then continuing on tour.

Review: Legends: Monsters, Mead & Mayhem at Blue Elephant Theatre

If you hear the name Thor and think of Chris Hemsworth (and let’s be honest, who doesn’t?), you may be in for a shock at the Blue Elephant this week. Having previously tackled the Arabian Nights and Greek mythology, Hammer & Tongs Theatre have now turned their attention to the Vikings. Legends: Monsters, Mead & Mayhem is a fast-paced and very funny tour of the nine worlds of Norse mythology, in which elves dance unwary travellers to death, Thor keeps losing his hammer, and dwarves like to murder visitors and turn them into beverages. All of this is watched over by the guardians, armed with a pair of magic binoculars, who have the thankless task of keeping the peace, whilst drinking a lot of tea and sorting the mail.

Written and directed by Jennifer Rose Lee, this work in progress may be at an early stage in its development, but it’s already shaping up to be great fun for the whole family. Three actors (Oliver Yellop, Charlotte Reid and Philippa Hambly) play all the parts – so many I lost count – with a variety of accents from American to Brummy to Scottish, and with music and some occasionally rather too graphic sound effects supplied by George Mackenzie-Lowe, who’s installed in a corner for the duration of the show. Though the actors themselves seem occasionally on the verge of laughter, they all give energetic and enjoyable performances, keeping each role distinct from the next and somehow managing to keep up with the rapid pace of the story.

Though it’s essentially a sketch show, dropping in on all the different worlds and their eccentric inhabitants but always returning to the three guardians at the centre, there is a main plot thread linking everyone together. This revolves around the story of a poet created by the gods, whose skill makes him famous throughout the nine worlds… but he’s about to discover that fame isn’t always a good thing.

Perhaps we could have lingered a little longer on some of the stories; the show’s certainly entertaining enough that it can stand to go beyond its current 50 minutes, and though transitions between scenes are smooth, the brevity of some of the sketches currently means the show feels a little bit choppy. The characters are well-drawn and intriguing, deliberately going against our expectations; we have a friendly sea monster, inelegant elves – and Thor, who’s not only definitely not Chris Hemsworth, he’s also not the sharpest knife in the drawer, bless him. This subversion of what we think we know about Norse mythology supplies most of the dry humour of the evening, and makes me wish not only that the show was longer, but also that I’d seen what Hammer & Tongs did with the more familiar world of Greek legend in their previous production, MYTHS.

This family show reminds me a little of Horrible Histories, in that it’s definitely not based in any kind of fact, but still gives the audience enough info to whet our appetites and make us want to learn more, whilst keeping us well and truly entertained. Already a lot of fun and with great performances from an engaging cast, I look forward to seeing how the show develops from here.


Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: Sasha Regan’s All Male The Mikado at Richmond Theatre

Following the triumph of last year’s HMS Pinafore, Sasha Regan and her boys are back with a new adaptation of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado. Transporting the story of Yum-Yum, Nanki-Poo, Ko-Ko and friends from Japan to a campsite in 1950s England, the show continues the signature blend of charm, humour and surprising (in a good way) vocals that’s proved such a winning formula in previous productions.

Shortly before the show began, I heard someone in the row behind hinting that they might start singing along, which served as a helpful reminder that The Mikado is a wildly popular and well-known show. (He didn’t sing along, by the way.) However, to me it was entirely new, and I could hardly have asked for a more unconventional – or enjoyable – introduction to an already quite bizarre little tale.

Photo credit: Stewart McPherson

For the similarly uninitiated, here’s a brief summary: Nanki-Poo (Richard Munday), the son of the Mikado (James Waud), has run away from the prospect of being married off to the elderly Katisha (Alex Weatherhill), and disguised as a wandering minstrel has arrived in Titipu in pursuit of the young, beautiful Yum-Yum (Alan Richardson). Unfortunately she’s about to marry Ko-Ko (David McKechnie), the recently appointed Lord High Executioner – but he has his own problems, as he’s been condemned to death for flirting and therefore faces the “extremely difficult, not to say dangerous” prospect of having to behead himself. Meanwhile, all the officials have resigned in protest over Ko-Ko’s appointment, leaving Pooh-Bah (Ross Finnie) to take on every other position of authority in town. Chaos, not surprisingly, ensues.

Sasha Regan’s inspiration for the all male format came from memories of same-sex school plays, and despite all the grisly talk of beheadings, The Mikado retains that air of childlike innocence and fun, particularly once the “ladies” enter – though I’d have to say the standard of the performance far exceeds any school play I was ever in. The production itself has the charming simplicity you’d expect from a school camping trip in the Enid Blyton era (Ryan Dawson Laight’s set is essentially three very versatile tents; Ko-Ko’s axe is a cricket bat; and the “orchestra” is musical director Richard Baker on the piano) – but there’s nothing amateur about the vocals. Unsurprisingly, in this department it’s the female roles that are particularly memorable, if only because it’s a surprise to hear men hit such high notes, and do it so beautifully. Alan Richardson and Alex Weatherhill steal the show as Yum-Yum and Katisha with heartfelt and vocally on-the-money solos, but also very believable performances as lovesick women – though Katisha’s vigorous pumping of her bicycle tyres suggests it may not necessarily be love that she’s after.

Photo credit: Stewart McPherson

Whereas the female characters in this production usually get a laugh just by being on stage (as the curtain rises on Act 2, we catch them indulging in a pre-wedding makeover – and possibly enjoying themselves a bit too much), most of the comedy within the plot itself falls to the men. This is particularly true of David McKechnie, whose Cockney rogue Ko-Ko – along with Ross Finnie’s self-important Scottish bureaucrat Pooh-Bah and Richard Munday’s endearingly bewildered Nanki-Poo – handles some tongue-twisting lyrics with great aplomb and spot-on comic timing as he attempts to talk his way out of his fate. And if his “little list” isn’t particularly topical, it’s still great fun (and besides, it’s not like most of our politicians really need any help in looking ridiculous just now).

It seems likely that Sasha Regan and her talented company have another hit on their hands. If you’ve never seen The Mikado before, this is a thoroughly entertaining – if quite mad – first look; if you know it well, it’s a refreshingly different take that makes Gilbert and Sullivan’s classic feel brand new.


Can’t see the map on iPhone? Try turning your phone to landscape and that should sort it. I don’t know why but I’m working on it… 😉

Review: Eat the Poor at The Point, Eastleigh

Guest review by Edward Learman

Once, I toyed with the idea of performing at an open-mike night, and basically just talking “seriously” about my most humiliating and disturbing experiences: this would include recollections about diarrhoea, testicles, job interviews and GP visits, culminating with the crème de la crème topic of conversation: Brexit. This final part of the performance would simply involve me repeating (loudly!) the words “Europe”, “this country”, “capitalism”, “Tories”, “Labour”, “Tony”, “Donald”, “Margaret”, “freedom”, “Islam”, “bankers”, “immigration”, “unemployment” over and over again for as long as it took to get thrown out or the audience to start throwing things before leaving, thus illustrating the ridiculousness of any attempt at rational discussion.

I have yet to persevere with this concept, or to be at an open-mike night where I’m drunk enough. Jonny and the Baptists’ award-winning two-man show Eat the Poor takes a slightly more sanitised and friendly, but no less abrasive, approach to delivering their message on the state of the nation.

The two performers, Jonny Donahoe and co-star Paddy Gervers, explain early on that this show is not for everyone for the following reasons: 1. They talk about Brexit 2. They use the word “f***” a lot, except not in a sexual way 3. They’re both “socialists” who went to university. They also politely advise that they’ve had a lot of walkouts, and if there are any UKIP or Tories in the audience, they’ll likely hate the rest of the show and should go home immediately to count their money, or to reassess their priorities if they don’t have any.

Photo credit: Anna Soderblom

This sets the tone for the next 100 minutes. Not exactly a dissection of modern politics or British ideals, more a good-natured, self-effacing plea for sanity in the face of an election that will dictate whether things will stay exactly the same as they always have been or change slightly in favour of the poor who want a better future. To say the irony’s not lost on the two performers is obvious and they know it.

They’re middle-class, they’re artists, their parents own their own homes, they can afford to live in London and their chances in life are better compared to the vast majority of people working as low-paid labourers, nurses and teachers; however, there’s clearly no shortage of starving artists in this country.

Between the jokes, which are a brand of improvised comedy that riffs on how the audience responds – at one point Jonny pointed at a group in the audience and said something like: “I can see you’re already unhappy with this, but please please please don’t leave until the interval because it gets much, much worse, I promise you. Seriously, there’s a lot of jokes I haven’t done yet, and you might enjoy it” –  Jonny gives a brief explanation about their ideology, describing their work with the homeless and their contempt for the super-rich elite like Andrew Lloyd Webber (who gets mentioned a lot!), and it feels like they really mean it.

The antics range from songs about how difficult it is for liberals to admit Blair and New Labour were bad when instead we should all just dig up Thatcher and bury her again, to Jonny ditching Paddy and becoming a worldwide success who takes over from Murdoch and controls the media whilst resisting Andrew Lloyd Webber’s deadly seduction, to a song about what would happen if swans declared their independence from Queen Elizabeth’s reign and then conquered the world. This is all clearly meant to be metaphorical, and it’s very funny.

There were also some quite educational moments; at one point the team produce a magazine called The Tatler, a luxury lifestyle publication, where they read a list of the top wealthiest and most important people in England, and which includes such interesting pastimes as wearing hats and owning things. A slightly less absurd example is a song about the 2015 parliamentary vote on whether to abolish tax credits for the lower-income bracket. This consists of a list of names, including Andrew Lloyd Webber, David Cameron and Theresa May, conjoined with the phrase “Dickvalve. What a bunch of dickvalves!” repeated again and again, with Jonny descending upon the audience to high-five anyone who’s willing.

This is a very funny show, and I’m glad I got to see it – and that I’m not the only starving artist who thinks that politics (or power) is absurd.

Eat the Poor continues on tour until 27th May; check the website for dates and venues.

Review: Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (screening) at the Harold Pinter Theatre

Guest review by Edward Learman

“I’m not drunk enough to figure it out yet.” – George

There are many great lines in Edward Albee’s classic play about alcoholism, marriage and the failure of American virtues. Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf? remains both a portrait of an era and one that has a truly timeless and universal appeal for audiences across the world.

The play is currently being performed at the Harold Pinter Theatre, and I was able to see a live screening at my local theatre, Thornden Hall. The venue is a 388-seat auditorium with a state-of-the-art sound system and digital facilities located on the Thornden School’s grounds, with the purpose of supporting the Performing Arts and Education in Eastleigh and Chandlers Ford. This is the first time I had visited the site, and I was impressed with the service, the speed at which I was given my ticket, but especially with their selection of beers, which were surprisingly cheap compared to most venues. For this event the middle rows were almost completely filled, so the venue must’ve sold at least 200 tickets.

It’s my personal theory that no performance of Albee’s play should be watched without being inebriated; this is to fully appreciate the nauseating maelstrom of hissing put-downs and devastating one-liners as the two couples go at it, engaging themselves in verbal sparring contest, cutting each other to the bone.

“Fun” is not exactly the word I would use to describe Albee’s play, unless by fun you mean some sort of psychological game in which all your darkest fears and skeletons are resurrected to be paraded for the horrible amusement of the younger guests, who aren’t quite sure what’s going on or why they can’t just leave. “I don’t mind self-flagellation as long as it’s done right,” Nick (Luke Treadaway), the young and handsome academic, quips as he attempts to find a common ground with George (Conleth Hill), the older, once aspiring history professor, who is appalled by the young man’s naivety and his wife Martha’s (Imelda Staunton) reasons for inviting him into their home.

There are many layers and twists to the play, and this allows the actors to explore the depths of their characters, wear many masks, and to flip from passiveness to anger to humour to pain to despair to insanity and then back to smiling indifference again. Like Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, it’s a real spectacle of drama and a masterful piece of staging where it seems as if Albee has challenged himself by asking: “How far can I push this?” It’s strange to think that when the play opened in 1962, the judges for the Pulitzer Prize chose not to have an award that year rather than give it to Albee, for they’d objected to use of profanity.

Interestingly, when I’d first come across the play as a teenager after watching Mike Nichol’s 1966 film adaptation, I couldn’t quite imagine Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, despite their incredible performances, using language like “F*** you, motherf***er!” I suppose no one would expect their parents to say this, even during a blazing row.

And how does this cast fare against the one with two of the greatest film stars of the 1960s? Well, I wasn’t quite sure how the two-hour film, which is basically just one long argument, could possibly be performed on stage. For the film version, visually there were room changes and moments where the characters could take a breather. But here the director James Macdonald, who like Nichols is a veteran of the theatre (previous works include Sarah Kane, Caryl Churchill and David Mamet among others), chooses to restrict the action and drama to a single room, with one or two dialogue scenes kept intact in contrast to the adapted film version.

Critics have described MacDonald’s version as the “funniest and most high-energy version ever”; I don’t disagree with this since during the entire three-hour production there doesn’t appear to be a single quiet moment, except during the two brief intermissions. Quite how the cast, which boasts seasoned stage and screen actors Conleth Hill (Game of Thrones), Imelda Staunton (Gypsy) and Luke Treadaway (The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time) and West End newcomer Imogen Poots (28 Weeks Later), have managed to give such gut-wrenching performances since February just amazes me. But especially Staunton, who simultaneously channels Elizabeth Taylor’s spirit whilst bringing a sensitivity to the character which I never thought was there, and which moved many in the audience to tears, including myself.

Staunton’s performance as Martha reminded me of Heath Ledger’s scene-stealing role as The Joker in The Dark Knight  a part which any intelligent actor or critic would look upon as a monumental challenge after another great actor, in that case Jack Nicholson, had already made it iconic. Like Ledger, Staunton succeeds in the same way, which is to simply play the character slightly differently, and although at certain times, I felt I was watching Taylor and Burton, which was astonishing, here the actors can physically utilise the stage space, enhance their performances and somehow make the characters more three-dimensional. Staunton also screams louder than any actor or actress I’d ever seen in any live performance, and again, I can’t quite believe how she manages to give such an electrifying performance night after night.

Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? is at the Harold Pinter Theatre until 27th May. For details of future events at Thornden Hall, visit http://www.thorndenhall.co.uk/.