Well, it’s a brave subject for a musical show but Chickenshed has never shied away from difficult things. And it has a big theatrical advantage because it works with large numbers of members across its various activity levels and is used to managing a cast of hundreds. As we file into the spacious main space, configured in a vast horse-shoe which is not quite traverse and not quite in the round, we see dozens of “bodies” still, silent and everywhere you look – laid out like a washing line.

The piece, based on a 2017 Chickenshed Foundation Degree project, tells the story by shifting between 1978 (and earlier) and 2008 when survivors talked to television interviewers. Officials walk among the bodies trying in astonishment to work out what can possibly have happened – and we hear flies buzzing in the sound track which is chilling.

Jonny Morton finds all the revolting charm in Jones which convinces most of his followers that he is God and that they are living in paradise. He preaches, blesses his “children”, sings well  and looks the part in his purple robe over casual clothes. Gemilla Shamruk is strong as his supportive wife too – often acting as a conduit between the commune members and her drug taking, often ruthless, power-crazed husband.

Much of this story evolves in large scale balletic form and there are some fine dance scenes underpinned by music by Dave Carey – always rhythmic, often menacing and usually disturbing. I’m struck too by how many Chickenshed members are fine dancers who make lifts, used a lot in choreography by director Michael Bossisse and the team he works with, look utterly effortless and very dramatic. The big sung numbers – such as the People’s Temple Choir at the beginning of the second half – are vibrant too. And all of that is interspersed  and contrasted with quiet horror of the TV interviews thirty years later and the activities of shocked police and American officials at the time.

At the end we see several minutes of projected footage of the real People’s Temple in which members look positive and happy. Then there are shots of the bodies. It’s so sobering that applause at the end feels like an inappropriate response.

Chickenshed stands for inclusivity and diversity. And one of the many things I admire about it is the way in which cast members who need it are supported by the company with unobtrusive warmth – wheelchairs raced on and off, hands held and guided in dance for example. Yes, this really is theatre for everyone – there are no exceptions – which also achieves a professional standard and, in this case, forces you to think quite hard about cultism and that’s as topical now as it was in the 1970s.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/the-washing-line/

The play is about Frankie Howerd (Simon Cartright) and his live-in manager/ chauffeur/ factotum Dennis Heymer. Howerd struggled with his obvious sexuality all his life and never came out as gay even after homosexuality was decriminalised in 1967. The two men were, of course, lovers in a tortured but passionate sort of way.

The structure of Farrelly’s play gives us Dennis, seventeen years after Howerd’s death showing a party round Wavering Down which was the latter’s Somerset home. Then Howerd (Simon Cartright – all the distinctive Howerd mannerisms deftly mastered) appears as a solid ghost to help retell the story of their life together – including Howerd’s infidelities, years in therapy, career dips and the use of LSD.

Farrelly’s Dennis is gritty but passionate, sardonically witty and skilfully nuanced. When he wants to, Farrelly can glitter with charisma and it’s very effective.  The scene in which the two men first meet at the Dorchester Hotel where Dennis is working as a “sommelier” (a self-deprecatingly posh word for a barman) is funny, for example. It’s full of raised eyebrows and innuendo as Howerd gropes for secrecy and discretion but Dennis is blunt.

This play is a love story. Both men have imperfections and hang ups but eventually, despite everything, Howerd admits – after many rows –  that he loves Dennis. Peace settles.  It’s deeply moving – and intelligent. This is thoughtful theatre for grown ups.

Howerd’s End has matured since I first saw it. There’s a little more playing to and with the audience (who are meant to be the party being shown round the house) than formerly and that works well. It tours easily too because the set is only a moveable fireplace, a rug, a painting, a chair and a small ottoman. Along, with Farelly’s other plays (the rest are solo shows) Howerd’s End is popping up in a number of small theatres this spring. Definitely worth seeing.

Directed by Lucie Pankhurst

The annual revue presented by MTA (Musical Theatre Academy) is always a treat and this year was no exception although, of course, this is the first time it has happened live for a while. It is such a good idea to present a slickly directed revue with a wide range of material featuring every student in both first and second years of this two year accelerated course because it acts as a better showcase than any conventional “showcase”. I’ve often wondered why every performing arts school doesn’t do this.

This year’s show featured fifteen second years and seven second years. The latter group  did an ensemble number (Paradise by the Dashboard Light from Bat Out Of Hell) competently, provided backing for some of the other work and took part in the full company numbers. It struck me for the first time this year that their presence and inclusion is a fine advertisement for the college in more than one way. They show, first, just how skilful MTA is at spotting potential. And when they appear alongside second years you can see very clearly the massive progress these students make in just two years. The training they’re getting is self-evidently outstanding.

The show includes a wide range of material ranging from extracts from Annie, Sweet Charity and Merrily we Roll Along to Everybody’s Talking About Jamie and Dust and Embers. Something Old Something New – as advertised.

Lucie Pankhurst, who directs and choregraphs this show (with a handful of numbers choreographed by others) ensures that one number segues seamlessly from the one before, using every inch of Bridewell Theatre’s big playing area. The company operates with near-military slickness so that the show never even pauses for breath – except that it had to at the performance I saw when there was an issue with lighting and everything stopped for 15 minutes while staff decided what to do. It is a tribute to the professionalism of the company that they took this totally in their stride – repeated one number and then simply carried on with the show.

In a company with so much eclectic, vibrant talent it seems a bit unfair to single out individuals but with the caveat that every single participant does an excellent job, I’m going to.

Lou Henry lights up the stage every time she appears in numbers such as There Must Be Something Better Than This (with Emily Tang and Pia Wabs). She is totally convincing in her acting and her singing is sublime. No wonder she is given an impassioned. moving solo slot: Someone Who Could Be Loved.

Emily Tang has a rich singing voice especially in the lower registers. She is also accomplished with accents and has oodles of attractive stage personality. So does Amy Lockwood, whose huge presence (I loved her StepSisters’ Lament from Cinderella with Rowan Kitchen) is out of all proportion to her diminutive size – if she wants to, among other opportunities, she’ll be able to play feisty children in dramas for many years to come.

Blaine Gosling sings with rich warmth and musicality. He could sing opera if he wished – perhaps he has. And watch out for Kaidyn Niall Hinds whose lithe, charismatic dancing is likely to further his career.

Finally, what a joy it is to see a student show like this accompanied by a fine six-piece (yes six!) live band, led by college founder/principal Annemarie Lewis Thomas on keys who has also done all the musical arrangements. They make a terrific sound, tucked away on a balcony above the stage, and I’m certain that their presence is part of the reason for the high standard the college gets from its students.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/something-old-something-new/

First staged at Chichester in 2014 with a transfer to the west End, Taken at Midnight tells the true story of a young German lawyer named Hans Litten. He is arrested because he has defiantly defended communist workers against fabricated charges of violence. In one such case, in 1931, he subpoenaed Hitler and ridiculed him in court and there is a strong sense of personal revenge being enacted. The story is told through the eyes of his mother, Irmgard Litten.

Robert O’Neill’s performance as Litten is excellent. Having just been arrested he is initially strained but determined. He becomes ever more distressed – both physically and mentally – as he is transferred from concentration camp to camp and relentlessly beaten and tortured.  It’s hard to watch. Then finally we get a powerful reprise of the court scene back in 1931 as, still in “striped pyjamas” we see his verbal brilliance, panache and courage.

Heather Wain as Irmgard never feels quite real although I saw this play on its opening night (no previews in non-pro theatre) so nerves were probably biting. She speaks, moves and gestures over carefully – you can almost see and hear Pauline Armour’s directorial notes. Of course her character is under huge strain but we also need to be convinced by her. She seems slightly more natural  and less wooden in the second half and there’s a powerful scene with her son towards the end when, finally, I believed in her.

Strong support roles include  Geoff Dillon as the cocky, intelligent Erich Muhsam, a communist imprisoned with Litten who has, eventually, more integrity than instinct for self preservation.  Michael Martin as Carl von Ossietsky, a newspaper editor and another fellow prisoner, finds intelligence and truth in his character and I liked Howie Ripley’s work as Gustav who helps Litten sort some library books – really nice rapport between the two actors in this scene. This is, incidentally, a good play for an amateur company because there are a number of smallish but meaty roles which can be rehearsed in discrete scenes.

Armour makes good use of Bromley Little Theatre’s small playing space which is more or less split into two (set design by Jan Greenhough) with the relatively comfortable outside world occupied by Irmgard and the people she talks to stage right, while stage left represents the squalid horror of a series of prisons.

The story telling is pretty clear although I was puzzled by Fritz Litten (Michael Martin – charismatic), father of Hans Litten. He comes and goes, apparently not living with Irmgard. Are they separated? Is he dead? He’s fully Jewish, although he has converted – which is why they declare Hans Litten Jewish despite his professed atheism. Why is Litten senior, a university professor, not arrested too?

It is an inspired, sobering idea to have archive footage of the real Irmgard, who escaped to Britain, talking to a British journalist in the foyer at the end of the play.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/taken-at-midnight-4/

Michael Morpurgo’s gut wrenching 2003 novella bears all the hall marks of the things he cares deeply about – injustice and the futility of war for example. There’s even a tiny subplot about a redundant, condemned foxhound – another of Morpurgo’s issues. I’ve seen Simon Reade’s masterly adaptation before but last time it was done by an ensemble of 16 who formed National Youth Theatre Rep company in 2014 and there have been other productions before and since. This new production uses a very busy, hardworking cast of just six.

And in the performance I saw – a schools matinee with lots of excited Year 7s – the cast were working even harder than usual because they’d had Covid-positive problems immediately before it. Assistant director Imogen Beech gamely read in for Emma Manton and Tom Kanji took on an additional role. John Dougall should have had an extra round of applause. Not only is he on and off stage continually in eleven different roles anyway but at this particular performance he had to take a twelfth one. His accent work and ability to change both clothes and manner in an instant are fortunately very accomplished.

The story – widely read in schools – is about a young volunteer in World War One who is shot for cowardice. We sit with him (although there’s a twist just before the end because there are two Private Peacefuls – brothers from Devon) all night as the minutes tick away before dawn. He remembers his childhood, the death of his father, his special needs brother  and his common sensible mother who keeps the family going even when they’re threatened with eviction. Then there’s Molly, the local girl who is a good friend to both Charlie and Tommo.

Lucy Sierra’s craggy set with slatey side walks either side of a versatile drop and an adaptable horizon at the back becomes a river where the young people meet in sunny Edwardian Devon and then morphs into the horrors of the trenches. Dan Balfour’s sound design really points up the contrast too –  the immersive sound of shells is very loud and pretty convincing.

Daniel Rainford finds all the right boyishness maturing into an agonised young adult, for Tommo and Daniel Boyd gives Charlie  plenty of strength and dignity, especially at the end.

Frank Moon’s folksy songs highlight the muscular innocence of rural Devon and I liked the way director Elle While occasionally has her cast float into short physical theatre sequences with music because it adds to the idea that these are innocent young people – full of dreams for their future – who should never have been at war. And never let it be forgotten that, in real life, Earl Haig gave the order for over three hundred men to be shot for “cowardice”. Today we’d recognise their behaviour as extreme traumatic stress disorder. I’m glad all those 11 and 12 year olds I saw this with are learning about that atrocity though their reading and through drama.