Twelfth Night**

Non-Professional

11^th September 2019

Wyllyotts Theatre

Rating: 4 Stars

As the lights dimmed in this truly beautiful auditorium and the band struck up their first chords, one

thing went through my mind……….

Thank god this isn’t a tribute act. There seems to be a curse corrupting local theatres, where every other show is either a knock off tribute act or a pantomime. Harry Harding’s psychedelic production of ‘Twelfth Night’ is a welcome breath of fresh air in the drudgery of contemporary theatre programming.  Shakespeare’s tale of separation, tom foolery, mistaken identity, unrequited love and unburdened passion is one which has had more reincarnations than I have had hot dinners (and trust me I’ve had a lot of hot dinners!). To his credit Harding works hard to provide his audience with something they won’t have seen before. Choosing to make the time period of his piece ambiguous, the audience are instead assailed by bright lights, bold colours and a pleasing score of classical music.  There is something almost ‘Alice in Wonderland’ meets 1960’s Hollywood about the whole affair.



For those of you unfamiliar with this tale, allow me to enlighten you. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I will begin.

Brother and sister, Viola and Sebastian, are separated by a freak storm. Shipwrecked on the shores of Illyria both think the other dead and venture out on their own journey’s. Disguising herself as a boy, Viola becomes a servant of the lovesick Count Orsino and inevitably ends up falling desperately in love with him. Meanwhile, heartbroken by his sisters supposed death, Sebastian finds himself in the company under the protection of the pirate Antonio. Together they begin their travels through Illyria. Close by, but currently separate from all this action is the object of Count Orsinos affections Olivia. Surrounded by her household of loyal servants and foolish relations, Olivia has sealed herself away from the Counts affections in morning for her brothers recent death. However when she comes face to face with the freshly disguised Viola emotions run high and madness ensues. Still with me? Good!

Hardings style certainly matches the flamboyant insanity of the Bards text, but what about the acting? I must confess that this the first non-professional show that I have reviewed, so I was prepared to make some allowances. However, from an acting standpoint this show stands up better than some professional performances I have witnessed. From the first scene it was clear that every actor understood the meaning behind every line, right down to the last word. As a result the play was opened up to the audience, and we were able to connect with the performance a lot easier. Although this may sound like the bare minimal of professionalism, it is shocking how few companies master this in their performances. Everyone of Hardings cast deserves commendation for their mastery of the text, but particular praise must be given to Catherine Littles portrayal of Feste. As Olivia’s fool, Little has one of the most challenging roles within the play. Shakespeares fools are by far his most intelligent of his characters, regularly mocking the foolishness of their superiors, therefore it is important that whoever undertakes this role not only understands the text but could also speak it backwards. Little succeeds beautifully in creating a sharp tongued, and quick-witted Feste, whose poetic jabs at her superiors enhance the enjoyable madness.

Little certainly sets a high standard, but it’s a standard that the other performers are more than capable of meeting. Lorraine Bottomley plays a wonderfully glamorous Olivia, beginning the performance as a reserved Hollywood recluse before emerging as a sexually charged bombshell. There are definitely hints of both Norma Desmond and Maryline Monroe in Bottomley’s Olivia, so much so that one cannot help but feel sorry for Ryan Roedling’s sweetly awkward Sebastian. When  Sebastian is mistaken for the disguised  Viola, the scene is akin to a lioness stalking its prey. The chemistry between the characters is thoroughly enjoyable. Roedling’s beta male frequently earns a rueful chuckle, whilst Andrew Bowdens foppish Orsino is hilariously cringeworthy in his failed seduction attempts.

Hilarity comes in many guises throughout Hardings production, but nowhere is more prominent than in the roles of the side characters. Olivias cousin Sir Toby Belch, his friend Sir Andrew Aguecheek and the wise serving woman Maria are often the highlight of many ‘Twelfth Night’ productions, and here is no exception. Nick Vause offers us a wonderfully decrepit lecherous Sir Toby, whose comedic skills are perfectly complimented by Max Lloyds Sir Andrew Aguecheek. Lloyds elastic face and flamboyant portrayal makes him an ideal comic foil for Vause. Drink, scheming and foolery mean that this duo never fail to create a stir. It would take a strong woman indeed to rein them in. Fortunately Vicky Absolon is one of the strongest Maria’s I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Her working class, no nonsense swagger is a joy to behold. When all three of these characters come together hilarity is guaranteed. Even the two smaller characters of Fabia and Valentine are not forgotten. Dawn Travell (Fabia) and Helen Green (Valentine) give their characters all the necessary exasperation to highlight the foolishness of their respective masters.

However the stars of the show are undoubtably the remaining female characters. Francesca Wilkinson shows a maturity beyond her years in her portrayal of Viola, effortlessly flitting between an innocent girl fresh with the pain of her brothers death, a young serving ‘boy’ helpless in an unfamiliar world and a love sick woman. There is an extraordinary amount of truth in Wilkinsons performance, so much so that it would be hard to pick a particular moment to focus on. The scene where she weeps over her brothers ‘death’ or the moment of bewilderment when she receives a ring from her lady admirer Olivia (arguably one of Shakespeares most famous scenes and performed beautifully here) are both truly memorable moments. However the scene which showcases Wilkinsons skills to the fullest is the scene where she and Orsino listen to Feste’s music. Here the two become awkward young lovers, trying to feel their way through unfamiliar emotions. It is awkward and adorable in all the right ways.

Harding makes a brave choice with his final two castings. This is the first time I have seen a production of ‘Twelfth Night’ where both Malvolio and Antonio are played by women, and I can honestly say that they were two of the best portrayals I have seen (and that is including Sir Derek Jacobi’s portrayal of Malvolio). Malvolio, or Malvolia in this instance, was expertly portrayed Lillie Prowse. Her take on this classic character was pure pomposity, from the moment we see her we are hoping for her demise. As a result the scene where Sir Andrew, Toby and Fabia convince Malvolia that Olivia harbours secret feelings for her is pure magic to watch. We revel as the characters pride blinds her to the truth, and her reappearance in the second act clad in not only yellow stockings but also giant feathers is pure brilliance. If the characters development ended here then Prowse’s performance could be described as exceptionally good, but once again the audience is pleasantly surprised. In her final two scenes, Prowse plays her characters down fall with brutal harshness. When we see her locked up as a mad woman, we feel truly sorry for her. Her pleas to Feste for help seem completely heart felt, and the inspired movement of both character holding hands is a testament to both Hardings directing and Prowse’s performing abilities. I have never seen the role played in such a pitiful way, and it is brilliant.

Last but by no means least we have Jessica Anne’s take on the role of Antonia. This is living proof that there is no such thing as small roles, just small performers. With only a handful of scenes, Anne shows herself as a first class performer. She is quiet simply powerful, captivating and funny. Her ability to command a stage is a wonderful contrast to the intended awkwardness of Sebastian, and the use of the opening bars of the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ theme is a brave but fitting introduction to the her character. Together these three women are ones to watch out for in the industry.

Hardings ‘Twelfth Night’ has undoubtedly had a lot of time and effort put into it, but despite all my praise it is not a perfect performance. As a non-professional show it suffers from a few common problems, the first and most glaring of which was certain performers projection. Maybe I am a bit harsh, but I cannot forgive a performer who lacks the vocal ability to be heard on stage. Unfortunately the male members of the cast suffered from this greatly, and this was only further compounded by the use of a live band. Although in some cases the underscoring of scenes with live music worked beautifully (the opening scene was a prime example), at times it only served to drown out the actors. A faulty microphone also hampered Littles attempts to sing Feste’s songs. Pacing also quickly became a second fundamental issue. As much as I enjoyed the characters of Sir Andrew and Toby their first scene together felt hopelessly rushed, whilst other scenes like the finale were extremely drawn out. Shakespeare was a master of tying up loose ends in his plays, but when these scenes aren’t paced properly one’s attention tends to wander off to thoughts of the nearest pub.


However with this said pacing in Shakespeare is no easy feat to master, and even the greatest of directors/performers can miss their mark on occasions. Readers of review should note that I saw this performance on its opening night, so a lot of these criticisms could be marked under opening night nerves and mishaps. Regardless the plays ending of a high energy cast dance, complete with balloons and glitter soon made one forget about any quibbles.

This production of ‘Twelfth Night’ may be non-professional, but it is a highly enjoyable classic comedy which is open to everyone. I admire Harding immensely for creating a performance which can be enjoyed by Shakespeare lovers both old and new. Our local theatres need more of these performances, and I will always continue to support their development. It also stands as proof that a non-professional production can still be good, and even raise the bar for professional productions. Harding ‘Twelfth Night’ is an exceptional non-professional production, with healthy amounts of professionalism.

The King in Yellow**

21^st August 2019

The Lion and Unicorn Theatre
Rating: 5 Stars

With the end of the celebrated Edinburgh Fringe nigh, the eyes of the theatre going public now have to frantically search for other forms of amusement as the brief, but nevertheless hot British Summer comes to an end. For those left in London, the Camden Fringe offers a possible thirst quencher to the upcoming dramatic drought. Like its Scottish Brother, the Camden Fringe promises the good, the bad and the ugly in its eclectic program. The question is, which one of these does ‘The King in Yellow’ fall under? To answer this question one must first dive into the depths of this unnerving and oddly frantic play.

As a self-confessed Gothic Horror enthusiast, I have to confess that I had never heard of ‘The King in Yellow’ (a piece which H.P. Lovecraft defined as groundbreaking), before attending this performance. Written by American author Robert W. Chambers in 1895, ‘The King in Yellow’ encompasses ten stories set in a dystopian 1920’s America. These stories are all linked by the existence of a forbidden play, called ‘The King in Yellow’, which once read induces despair or madness in its hapless victims. This play acts as a catalyst for the characters within the novel, being passed between them, and causing them to act out. To put it bluntly ‘The King in Yellow’ is a story about a killer play.

As you can probably gather, this is not a story that you can just jump in and out of with one eye on your phone (although I would have been grateful if someone could have told that to the bloke sat in front of me!). It is fair to say that bringing ‘The King in Yellow’ to the stage would be a challenge for even the most seasoned of directors. As a result first time theatre directors Joesphine Czarnecki and Darwin Garrett’s take on this soul gripping novel is nothing short of remarkable. Czarnecki and Garret masterfully reduce Chambers ten short stories to a single one-hour narrative. Set in the same dystopian world of suicide chambers, political unrest and macabre art as the original text, ‘The King in Yellow’ is one of those plays that grabs you by the throat and doesn’t let go. From the centre of this maelstrom of madness and intrigue a young man named Castagine (played by Owen Clark) rises as the central figure. Over the course of the next hour we gradually build up a picture of this man; learning that he has spent time in an asylum, has read the forbidden play and now believes that he will be the new king of existence (the king in yellow). As the hour ticks away we see Castagines web of madness extend out, ensnaring everyone in reach. A sculptor named Boris and his wife, a painter named Jack and his model Tessie, an infatuated man called Alec, even his own Cousin Lewis, are all corrupted by Castagines madness.

Czarnecki and Garretts production walks a taut tight rope, balancing between the world of Kantors theatre of memory and the underworld of Artauds Theatre of cruelty. There is something eerily compelling about the plays juxtaposition of beauty and death, of art and madness. We open on a dark room filled as if it were the cluttered inside of a frantic artists brain. A soundtrack of mixed ragtime and swing music interspersed with clangs, books slamming, hammers falling and clock chimes, creates an almost nightmarish backdrop to proceedings, whilst a blank masked chorus keeps the performance forever turning to its mind warping conclusion (SPOILERS STILL TO COME). Throughout the play there are continued references to the marble statues that stand outside the suicide chambers in Washington Square, on a basic level the plays modern Greek Chorus act as a further physical embodiment of this closeness between art and death. On another level there are hints of communism and dictatorship in the use of this faceless group of people, all following the same movements and the same religious calling of the king in yellow.

However, with any tight rope there is a real danger of falling to your demise. Needless to say ‘The King Yellow’ is dense with heavy undertones, so much so that everyone could take their own meaning from the text. This if poorly handled could cause the play to be condemned as pretentious. Czarnecki and Garrett neatly sidestep this potential danger by casting some of the most naturally talented performers I have ever had the pleasure of watching. I have been lucky in the past six months in the fact that all of the shows that I have reviewed have had fairly strong casts, however ‘The King in Yellow’ is the one show I have reviewed where all of the cast stand on the same level of brilliance.


Owen Clark is pure perfection in the lead role of Castagine. Instead of sinking into the quagmire of a stereotypical villain, or the hopelessly overblown cliché of a madman, Clark goes for a more sophisticated layered approach. At the opening he appears to act more as a quietly controlled storyteller, describing the dystopian world that the audience are about to enter, before descending into an unstable and frightened young man who seems to live in his cousins (played by Ashton Spear) shadow, only to later frantically re-emerge as a coldly calculating puppet master who sews the seeds of his comrades fates. There is definitely a hint of Doctor Faustus in Clarks portrayal, a feature which is nicely complimented by Ashton Spear’s take on the character of Boris. Providing us with our first side story in the narrative, Spear’s plays a captivating restless sculptor who has just discovered a chemical which transforms organic matter into marble. Continuing with the gothic theme, Spears take on the character fits nicely into the archetype of young scientist in a similar vein as the likes of Doctor Jekyll and Victor Frankenstein. His wide eyed, almost feverish excitement is a clear warning about the dangers of straying too far onto the frozen lake of scientific discovery. As Spears allows his characters passions to consume him, we are also given a startling powerful message about arts connection beauty and life. Like changing a flower to marble, if we mimic life in art do we take away all that made it live in the process.

Completing the male cast is Robbie Heath, whose embodiment of the young painter Jack has more than a hint of Dorian Grays Basil Hallward about it. Once again his story carefully treads the line between beauty and death, revolving mainly around his developing feelings for his pretty model Tessie (played by Zuzana Spacirova) and a strange nightmare that seems to haunt the young couple. This story unquestionably adds a level of sweetness to the otherwise manic darkness of the narrative. Heath and Spacirova show an incredible sense of truth in their performances, there is nothing forced or overplayed in their relationship. As an audience we believe that these two have a long and developed relationship, which considering we only really see them together in a couple of scenes is a testament to both of these performers’ skills. We end up completely invested in their relationship, and therefore this makes the constant presence of death and their inevitable demise at the hands of The King in Yellow all the more tragic. A truly palatable bittersweet moment.

However one thing which always impresses me as an audience member is an actors ability to take on multiple roles within a short production. Ashton Spears skills in this area are noteworthy, as he swaps between the frantic Boris and the more reserved Louis, but the true multi-rolling geniuses of the play are Charlene Sagral and Nina Atesh. Sagral shows remarkable versatility as she appears as the lovesick and slightly nervous Alec, before shedding this guise to take on the role of the politely reserved Constance (love interest of Lewis). Her portrayal of Alec particularly stands out, encompassing a truly gripping emotional range. Acting as a friend to Boris, and secret lover to his wife, this young man is a tightly coiled spring of conflicting morality, which at the plays climax gives way to a declaration of truthful love. Sagral is unquestionably an emotionally masterful actor, and one which I hope we soon see treading the boards again.

With this said, the stand-out performance of the piece comes from Nina Atesh. I had the privilege of reviewing Atesh in a separate production last year, and quickly became a fan of her as a comedy actress. However, it is clear that Atesh’s skills are not merely restricted to the realms of comedy. Throughout ‘The King in Yellow’ Atesh appeared in three completely different roles and gave each one the necessary truth and commitment. From the cocksure paperboy Thomas to the corrupted and deformed Mister Wilde (who it is hinted may have caused the events of the play), Atesh not only captivates but is one of the main driving forces behind the performances success. Her greatest victory comes in the role of Genève, the wife of Boris, who begins the story as dismissive of her husband’s achievements but slowly unravels to become obsessed with the idea of creating beauty through death leading to her own demise. Such is Atash’s skills that we are left with the question, did ‘The King in Yellow’ cause her downfall or was it the guilt from the affair with Alec? Atesh is truly an acting powerhouse, changing between characters seemingly effortlessly. A mere turn of the head or drop in vocal tone is enough. Her performance is a masterclass in multi-rolling and a testament to truth in performance. To put it simply Nina Atesh is the Catherine Tate or Julie Walters for the new generation.

‘The King in Yellow’ is a play that defies convention. Czarnecki and Garrett don’t just tear up the rule book, they set it on fire. It’s a rare thing for me to walk out of a show and be stunned into complete silence. Don’t get me wrong there are some people who won’t get ‘The King in Yellow’, there are some who may actually hate it, but no one can deny that it has an effect on everyone who sees it. In a world where a lot of theatre is forgettable, ‘The King in Yellow’ stands out as a bright light in the darkness of the mundane. It’s scary how much the play draws you in. During the final scenes Castagine makes references to his ‘people’, whilst looking directly at the audience. There’s an eerily element of truth behind this statement. We feel as if by viewing this show we have become disciples of the ‘The King in Yellow'. As the play ends on the final image of Castagine, wrapped in a white cloak tied like a straight jacket, we even begin to question whether we have just been drawn into the confines of a madman’s head. ‘The King in Yellow’ is a play which deserves an audience. Love it or hate, you will come out having experienced something unique. For that Czarnecki and Garretts production gets my vote for Best Performance of the Year.

The Comedy of Errors**

17^th July 2019

Petersfield Shakespeare Festival

Besdales School

Rating: 4 Stars

We start in absolute chaos. Wheelbarrows of musical instruments are raced into the space, cast members chat animatedly and a loud barman tries to the find the purchaser of a large bottle of pino. Then silence. The cast pause in a moment of stillness. We can hear a pin drop. The spaces beauty surrounds us, entrances us, draws us in, before the players throw us into a mad world of comedic misadventure.

Becky Hope-Palmers production of mistaken identity is a fast paced, fully immersive comedy powerhouse. Rather than working against the open-air venue of Besdales school, Palmer makes every inch of the space work to her advantage. The set is a simple wooden stage; complete with barrels, chests and a sail. Trees, wooden barns and a large marquee, provide even more opportunities for the players to play and create unbridled mirth. You can practically smell the sea in the air, as we are all transported to the port of Ephesus. A soundtrack of traditional sea shanties performed live by the cast, not only bares dreams of nautical adventure, but also hints at the hilarity still to come. Lyrics such as ‘pure confusion’, ‘bring back a rich husband’ and ‘searching for the other half of you’ practically wink at the audience with their blatant themes.

For those unfamiliar with ‘The Comedy of Errors’ allow me to quickly enlighten you. Syracuse merchant Egeon is caught trespassing on the forbidden soil of Ephesus. He has until sunset to pay his bail or face execution. Dramatic stuff! ‘Where’s the comedy?’ I hear you ask. Well it turns out that Egeon has twin sons, one of whom was lost in a storm, along with his man servants (oh yes the twins have manservants who were also identical). Egeon has been searching the globe for his missing son for the past twenty years. Unbeknownst to him, his lost son has been living happily living in Ephesus with his wife, her sister and his manservant. Adding to this series of happy circumstances is the sudden arrival of Egeon’s other son from Syracuse, along with his manservant. With two sets of identical twins running around its not long before hilarity ensues.

I always admire it when a Shakespearean comedy doesn’t resort to solely relying on adlibs or crude humour to generate laughs. Although Plamers production has both of these features in spades, every actor seems to have an understanding of the text and takes pleasure in generating laughs through the power of the Bards words. Nowhere is this better shown than in the performances of two the Antipholus Brothers (played by William Gillham and Ben Clifford), who despite being cast as identical twins (and somewhat looking the part) still manage to use the text to find their own style of humour. Gillham gives the young Antipholus of Syracuse (the visiting brother) all the awkwardness of a wide-eyed traveller, who finds himself in an unfamiliar land. His stiff gait perfectly complements his almost foppish mannerisms. Mistakenly threatening his brothers servant with a lobster is also an absurdly brilliant touch. Cliffords Antipholus of Ephesus (the married brother) is played with a little more self-assurance, showcasing a man who is well established in his environment. Nevertheless this provides its own unique type of humour. There is something sadistically amusing about seeing such a confident character being broken down to absurd levels. Cliffords cries for justice in the final scene, delivered on his knees with one hand bound and sweat dripping from his forehead, are a far departure from the swaggering persona we glimpse at the start. As we laugh at his pitiful state, we cant help but think that he deserves justice. Another moment which teases the characters breaking point is when Cliffords Antipholous finds himself at the mercy of Doctor Pinch, a conjuring school master (played beautifully by David Mccartly as an American Preacher), brought in by his wife to exorcise the madness. What follows is an explosion of comedy, largely involving Clifford being thrown about the stage before being bodily carried off. Quiet simply what we have here is a comedy cauldron, gently simmering away before boiling over in a bubbling fury.

Speaking of comedy, it would be a fairly poor reviewer that doesn’t at least mention the brothers twin man servants Dromio (played by Sam Hollis and Sorcha Kennedy). Hollis and Kennedy unquestionably make good comedic fools. Barely a scene goes by where they aren’t staggering under some crushing load, dodging blows, running for their lives or just looking bewildered at the insanity that is their masters lives. Although Hollis and Kennedy are far from identical, their comedy skills are so well honed that it mattered as much as the stubbornly grey sky which overlooked the entirety of the performance.

However I am a big believer that the power in a lot of Shakespeare’s plays rest on the power of their female characters. So how do they measure up? Pretty damn good, it must be said! Katie Sally strikes a restrained, yet powerful figure as Solinus the Duke of Ephesus, whilst Valentina Vinci stands out as the imposing sharp tongued Angelo (worker of gold). Vinci’s constant exasperation neatly sums up the constant thought ‘why am I dealing with these fools’, a thought which I am sure many of the audience can sympathise with. The female cast are completed by Sadie Pepperrell and Lauren Orrock, who play Adrianna (wife of Antipholus of Ephesus) and her sister Luciana, with all the wit and fire one could hope for.

This being said there is still potential for further exploration in this production. Hope-Palmer seems to dabble in two very different styles. The show opens with a mixture of classic story telling and physical theatre, precided over by Robert Cohens Egeon (a masterful storyteller). Although the style is effective it is never used again within the rest of the production. As a result instead of enhancing the production it just looks a little out of place. There were also a few problems with projection and music. Besides Valentina Vinci, whose booming voice could be heard across the county line, all of the female cast were lost vocally at certain points throughout the performance. Also as is often the way with live, unamplified music, at points the vocals became lost or drifted out of time as the musicians desperately tried to multi-task. However these are but mere minute criticisms against an otherwise Shakespearean diamond. The main thing wrong with Hope-Palmers production is that its not on for longer.

GUEST REVIEW- Much Ado About Nothing

12th July 2019
Orchard Tea Gardens, Cambridge 

Rating: 4 Stars 

I must confess that after sitting through a particularly horrible eye gouging production of ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ in 2018, I took my seat in the charming Cambridge Orchard Tea Gardens with a considerable amount of unease. However Drama Impacts production of one of Shakespeare’s finest comedies is light years away from the theatrical car crash I witnessed last year. Directors David Houston and Richard Llewellyn clearly know their craft, and as a result have produced a truly gripping piece of theatre devoid of gimmicks. With no set, and very few props, Drama Impacts nine actors effortlessly bring to life the Bards tale of love, wit and deception.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the play, let me give you a quick synopsis to whet your appetite. Returning from the wars, the prince of Aragon Don Pedro accepts an invitation from the Governor of Messina to stay in his household for at least a month. However when Don Pedro’s friend, the young Count Claudio, suddenly falls for the Governors daughter Hero events suddenly take unexpected dramatic and comedic turns. With the princes scheming illegitimate brother Don John planning to sabotage the young couple, and Hero’s cousin Beatrice engaged in a constant battle of wits with the Princes man Signor Benedick, it is not long before the play descends into enjoyable madness.

Bringing all of this to life in an unconventional performance space would be a challenge for any theatre company, but Drama Impact have a pleasing ability of making the quirks of their outdoor venue work to their advantage. In a play revolving around overhearing and eavesdropping Houston and Llewellyn hit the nail on the head perfectly with their staging. It was incredibly pleasing to spot characters spying on their fellows from behind trees, suddenly bursting through thick bushes, or in one memorable moment drunkenly waking up amongst the audience. The audience are treated to a dramatization which defies rigidity and flows almost seamlessly before them, keeping us on our toes for the unexpected whilst entrancing us.

But what of the actors? Without question every single performer was exemplary. This isn’t a mixed bag of rag tag actors, but rather one performing body. The performers compliment each other better than any other cast I have seen in a long while. Houston is incredibly charming as Signor Benedick, his rakish humour is mixed perfectly with a bubbling intensity that flashes out during the more serious scenes. There is something innately likeable about Houston’s Benedick, however he certainly has his hands full with the fiery Beatrice (played by Joanna Nevin). Nevin is just the personification of pure wit as Beatrice, as she engages Benedick with everything she has. The light and shade of her performance is RSC quality, and one which deserves a bigger stage. Seeing these two skilled Shakespearean performers working off each other is a theatrical treat worth savouring.

Further standout performances come from young lovers Claudio and Hero (Played respectably by Oliver Thorn and Niamh Handley-Vaughan).  This young couple are portrayed with all the truth one could hope for. Handley-Vaughan’s sweetly innocent Hero is instantly loveable, as is Thorns dashing yet romantically awkward Claudio. Seeing this couple get together, only to being nearly torn apart is both endearing and heart breaking in equal measure. The plays first marriage scene, where Claudio rejects Hero under the influence of Don Johns slander, can only be described as an acting masterclass. You could practically hear a pin drop in the audience.

Speaking of Don John, we all love a good Shakespearean villain and Harry Harding doesn’t disappoint in the role of Don Pedro’s illegitimate brother. His sneering persona and ever watchful eyes, are enough to give any audience chills. I have seen too many people stray into pantomime villain territory whilst attempting this role, but Harding pitches his performance at just the right level. The same can also be said about his take of the character of Verges, a bumbling member of the city watch. His timing and ad-libbing are that of a comic genius in the making, as he unwittily exonerates the young Hero.

Joining Verges in providing comedic relief is master of the watch Dogberry, played by co-director Llewellyn.  Only slightly less bumbling than his subordinate Verges, Dogberry is instrumental in the fates of the young romantic leads. Whilst Houston brings to mind John Cleese at his finest, Llewellyn is unquestionably Michael Palin in his portrayal. Everything from his statue and fantastically elastic expressive face, to his slow northern drawl seems designed to create laughs. Llewellyn’s portrayal of Don Pedro is also noteworthy for its strength and authorial control.

However, my personal favourite performance of the play came from Jenny Kilcast, who plays Margret the Waiting Gentlewoman to Hero. Its always a shame when Shakespeare’s smaller characters are lost behind the shadows of the leads, but such is Kilcast’s skill that you can’t help but be captivated by her. Even when she is silent her cheeky, flirty and mischievous nature effortlessly make her the most memorable of characters. When she does speak she unquestionably steals whatever scene she is in.

Hotly on Kilcasts quick heels is Nicholas Benjamin, whose portrayal of Borachio (Don Johns man) perfectly compliments her version of Margret. His swaggering strut and constantly cheeky face provide us with an endlessly enjoyable anti-hero. I particularly like the fact that Benjamin pays homage to his characters name by becoming increasingly more drunk throughout the play (Borachio translates to Drunkard). Benjamin also has his own hard-hitting moment, during an extremely emotional confession scene. During this scene Benjamin shows off his serious acting chops, revealing that he and Don John were responsible for Hero’s disgrace, adding an amazing amount depth to his character.

When Kilcast and Benjamin meet on stage the result is an extremely well thought-out and amusing partnership. Although they only share a handful of lines together, the chemistry between these two actors is such that we believe that they have an untold history. As a result, Margret and Borachio are now my favourite Shakespearean couple.

Drama Impact are unique in the sense that they give all of their characters equal development. Even the character of Leonato, the Governor of Messina, is portrayed with so much raw passion by Christopher Poke that he stands out as much as any other cast member.

I honestly hope that this play continues to pull in audiences, as it certainly deserves them. Even the performances short comings are mere footnotes. I have to confess that I wasn’t blown away by the modern soundtrack, and the pace of the performance seemed to fluctuate wildly throughout the second half. There was also the common problems with actors occasionally crashing their lines over each, or not being audible if they turned away from the audience, but these are all minor issues which I am sure will be ironed out in future performances.

Drama Impacts ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ is one of the most enjoyable productions I have had the privilege of watching in a long time. A must see for any Shakespeare lover, or anyone who is after an evening of wit and drama. Thank you Drama Impact for renewing my love of Much Ado!

John Randall

Voice of War **

14^th April 2019
Drayton Arms Theatre
Rating: 2 and a Half Stars 

On the eve of the greatest premier the world has seen in the past twenty years, one thought goes through my head…….

This show better be worth it!

To its credit ‘Voices of War’ has moments of pure brilliance, and anyway I was recording the first episode of ‘Game of Thrones’.

Some could argue that over the past five years the viewing public has been drowning in war dramatizations. With the one-hundred-year anniversary of the First World War still fresh in people’s minds you couldn’t turn on the TV or walk into a theatre without witnessing some kind of war story. Therefore, it would be easy to dismiss ‘Voices’ as yet another cliched compilation of ‘forgotten’ war stories, if it weren’t for Ian Burrs careful selection of tales. Burr writes with the tastes of a true history connoisseur, selecting stories which even a hardened war expert would be hard pressed to recognise.

‘Voices’ takes us on a journey from the trenches of the western front to the gruelling conflict of the Falkland’s, dealing with everything from desertion, shell shock and PTSD, to the effects on the innocent and the capacity of human evil. Just writing that statement gives an indication of how tall an order Burr places on his production. Nevertheless its an order that ‘Voices’ largely succeeds in meeting.

The hour and ten minute production is split into two thirty five minute acts, with four stories spread between them. Scenery and props are kept to a minimal; a table and a couple of chairs. Set to a sound track of classical music and songs from the World War two period, the four actors certainly have their work cut out for them, as they plough their way through Burrs verbatim script.

Burrs writing is quiet simply an actors dream, taking the stories of real people in extraordinary situations and unashamedly revealing the raw emotions of each character. The three female cast members are at the centre of bringing these stories to life. Each actress has a heavy weight on their shoulders, and each more than succeed in carrying it.

Starting in reverse, actress Eleanor Neylon has one of the hardest jobs an actor can hope to tackle; playing a young, single mother, soldier suffering from PTSD. In her portrayal of Joanne Tyler, Neylon masterfully steers clear of the dangerous world of overplaying and melodrama. Instead of forcing tears or screaming her head off, Neylon presents a coldly calm warrior whose façade is only cracked by the occasional rise in volume. Even in her characters final decision to end her life, the warrior composure is maintained. As Neylon exits the stage to her fate, she leaves the audience with a unshattered sense of truth at plays closure.

This sense of truth is carried throughout most of ‘Voices’, in both its light and shade. While the climax of the play ends on one of the darkest possible shadows of war, the opening act allows moments of levity. We are introduced to violet and Joan, two young fire officers on the lookout for bombs during the blitz. Their easy manner, charming smiles and precise language bring to mind young school teachers, an image which is only added to by the inclusion of pictures and maps from the era. Their stories of togetherness in even the darkest times give a glimmer of hope in the bleakness that war plays can often bring. This makes the blunt revelation of their deaths all the more tragic. As the audience file out for their interval drinks they are accompanied by a song that the endlessly watchable Bethany Monk-Lane and Kate Sketchley had previously danced to, heralding that war is indiscriminate in who it touches. However this is just a taste of what is to come.

For despite Sketchley and Neylon’s brilliance and obvious skill, Monk-Lane is the clear star of the show. When starting this blog I promised that I wouldn’t give out five star reviews unless really warranted, and although I don’t think that ‘Voices’ is a five star show, Monk- Lanes portrayal of Lee Miller is.  A young photographer based on the front lines of the Second World War, Millers story starts with her ‘about to take a bath in Hitlers bath tub’. The comedy of this statement is expertly brought out by Monk-Lanes easy portrayal. Like with Neylon, no part of Monk-Lanes performance is pushed or forced. We are taken on a journey of pure emotion; from laughing with her at the ridiculous idea of staying in the führers private apartments to feeling the unrestrained sadness and rage at the blind cruelty of the concentration camps. As Miller says, she ‘was there for everything’, and through Monk-Lanes masterclass of a performance, so are we. We are given the privilege of seeing Millers story unfold as clearly as if we were looking at one of her photographs. Miss Monk-Lane is a shining example of the simplicity of good acting. There is no need for effects or gimmicks, Monk-Lane simply sits and tell us an extraordinary story with all the truth and passion as if it was her own. The scene could easily be a play in itself. Truly amazing.

Unfortunately, this high standard is not maintained throughout the entirety of ‘Voices’. The show certainly has the makings of greatness, but as a whole it is still slightly underdeveloped. The play is made up of a story from the First World War, two from the Second World War and one from the Fulklands, and despite the quality of these tales Burr still falls into the trap of over simplifying the last 70 years of wars and conflict. It is true that the final story of PTSD can be linked to any conflict, but there are still avenues that ‘Voices’ doesn’t even venture down. For instance the story of a POW, a Chaplin, an conscientious objector or a family escaping a bitter conflict are just a few of the areas ‘Voices’ could have gone into. With a running time of roughly only an hour and ten minutes, I was more than happy to see more. No, I was hungry to see more! Therefore you can imagine my disappointment when I heard that there are currently no planned future performances.

Another sticking point for me was the presentation of the opening story.  The first character we are introduced to is George Hunter, a Yorkshire private, executed for cowardice during the first world war. His story is one of shell shock mixed with an appreciation of nature’s beauty even in the darkest times, all presented in the style of a final letter to a loved one. Once again this is a tall order for any performer, and its one that Rus Kallan struggles to achieve. Despite his best efforts, the pressure of maintaining a northern accent seems to hamper Kallans performance. The opening of the monologue is delivered flat and on one level, like a under functioning boat motor. Sadly this also creeps in to his posture, giving Kallans Private Hunter an almost robotic feel. The result is a lacklustre opening , which even the beautifully horrid description of conflict cant repair. This is not to say that Kallan is a bad performer, far from it. His second appearance as Joanne Tylers Doctor is pitched far better. Kallan also begins to relax into the role of Private Hunter, as the opening story continues. As an audience member it is possible to see the very moment he stops worrying about his characters accent. With a description of a birds nest on the barbed wire, mixing beauty with horror, Kallan comes alive. We see what he sees and are finally drawn into his storytelling. We start to see the truth of his character, and manage to care about him during his tragic demise.

All in all ‘Voice of War’ is a good piece of theatre, with some outstanding moments. Yes it has its flaws, but show me a perfect performance and I’ll show you a unicorn (I call him Steve). Besides Burrs medley of tales was better than staring at Kit Haringtons brooding eyebrows for an hour!

Alexander Wright

Him Indoors **

22^nd November 2018

Blue Elephant Theatre
Rating: 3 Stars

‘This town is full of strange f***ing weirdos!’ 


That one small sentence neatly sums Sonja Doubleday’s fast paced, fifty-minute absurdist comedy. Set within the fictional town of Tittitutar, ‘Him Indoors’ follows a young reporter (played by Tiberiu Chis) on his journey to interview Sally Cradoke  (Doubleday), a woman who has found herself possessed by a miniature man…….Yes you heard that right, possessed by a miniature man.

Confused?

Don’t be, we’ve only just begun.  No matter what your final opinion of Him Indoors is, it is undeniable that Doubleday throws everything but the kitchen sink at her audience. Perverted Hillbilly buskers, nonsensical dancing shopkeepers, innuendo rich kidnapping and an exorcism party are just a few of the delights that are on offer in this mad rag circus of chaos.


To its credit Him Indoors doesn’t let its audience dwell too much on searching for a hidden message. The plays charm lies in its simplicity. Props and set are kept to the bare minimum, allowing us to be captivated by the menagerie of larger than life characters. Doubleday is assisted in bringing these characters to life by Nina Atesh. Alongside Chis’s naturally charming reporter, the two actresses show off their physical comedy skills by juggling nearly a dozen characters between them. Together the three make an engaging and memorable comedic trio. Doubledays vocal and physical contortions are complimented by Atesh’s well placed comedic timing, whilst Chis’s frequently bewildered look of ‘what on earth am I doing here?’ sets a pleasing tone of nonsensical fun.


However it is clear that as a piece Him Indoors is a foundation rather than a completely finished product (a statement which Doubleday freely makes, both in the piece’s program and at the curtain call). Even taking into account opening night nerves certain segments felt a little too rushed, in some instances this was clearly the result of a missed mark or dropped cue, whilst in others it felt as if certain moments were just being thrown away. Whilst there is only so much you can do in under an hour, in some cases the desire to cram so much in left potentially golden moments under-utilized. In one particular instance our hero is on a train heading towards Tittitutar. The effect is created by him simply bouncing in his seat, whilst the other two performers move small models past him. Such a simple style effectively brought the almost full house down on opening night and could have been used much more throughout the performance.


This aside, Him Indoors is rare comedic gem in a sea of bleakness and depression that seems to symbolise a majority of the new writing and fringe theatre of 2018. All it needs is a little bit of polish. Funnily enough there is no better place for this polishing to be done than at the Blue Elephant Theatre, a venue which started off on a ‘wing and a prayer’ according to directors Niamh de Valera and Jo Sadler-Lovett. The venue specialises in bringing new writing to a London audience, whilst giving directors/writers/performers the chance to develop and hone their work.  With this in mind I don’t think we have seen the last of Him Indoors and the inhabitants of Tittitutar. At least I certainly hope not.


Alexander Wright