Our House is strange beast. It’s full of good tunes and ska vibrance but, as a jukebox musical the plot is weak – despite the valiant efforts of writer, Tim Firth. And in this production the complicated, rather clumsy double narrative plot is far from clear. It doesn’t help that – obviously in a youth company – there’s no range of ages to distinguish character.  And the setting is odd. It’s meant to be around 1980 and yet characters are using mobiles. I’ve seen other versions of this show with stronger story telling.

There is, however a lot to admire here. Toby Owers shines brightly as Joe Casey, the young man who takes his girlfriend trespassing on a first date and knows that unless he’s to go the same way as his dad (Rodger Lloyd) who went to prison and who haunts his son onstage, he has to make choices. For the rest of the show we see two alternating versions of what  Bad Joe and Good Joe might have gone on to do.

Also outstanding is Alfie Peckham as the enticing Reecey who is definitely bad news for Joe. And there’s lovely work from Daisy Bates as Joe’s girl friend. She has lithe stage presence and she sings with clarity and beauty.

There were occasional problems with the sound mixing in the performance I saw. Sometimes the balance was wrong and the dialogue got lost. I was pleased, though, to see the seven-piece band clearly visible on a narrow upstage additional platform with some of the action taking place on this level too, accessed from the stage by a ladder.

So far this is three-star show. It gets its extra star for two reasons.

First, I know that every single young person in this production was working flat out with the sort of infectious enthusiasm that you rarely see on a professional stage. That’s wonderfully uplifting. They achieve a high standard.

Second, and most important of all, Chris Cuming’s direction and choreography is the real star of this show. He knows exactly how to get the very best possible work out of his big ensemble and the end product – as they twist, lean, jump, point, somersault and much more – in time and at high speed is a masterclass in how it should be done.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/our-house-13/

A man called Donald Pleats is alleged to have stolen some cats and, indeed, has confessed to the crime. The jury’s job is to decide whether or not there is proof that he is guilty. And a great deal of hilariously spurious discussion follows as various jurors try to demonstrate that black is white and that if you’re persuasive enough you can convince anybody of anything. It’s a light hearted satire on group dynamics.

The characterisation is splendid – and very well sustained under Ben Sutherland’s skilled direction.  Justin Atherton, for example, is terrific as a slimy creep with a whining voice who never stops eating chips in a very repugnant way. And there’s a lovely performance from Mark Harrington as an aggressive National Front type who punctuates every conversation with angry, shouted bits of outrageous bigotry. In real life you’d run a mile to avoid this character. On stage we just laugh at him – a lot. He is worried, for example about terrorist organisations such as IRA, Al Queda and the National Trust.

Nick Bartlett is strong as the ever reasonable young foreman trying persistently to get a verdict and keep the peace and I enjoyed Megan O’Callaghan as the slightly more ambiguous character who simply wants to turn opinion for reasons of her own. Actually all twelve of them are very competent and they play off each other well in twos and threes.

Another thing I admired about both the play and the production is that the diversity is built in – a jury is, by definition, a disparate group and this is South London so you can have local actors from different backgrounds using their native accents which adds to the richness.

The play runs almost 90 minutes and is divided (presumably by the original playwright) into three acts which is pretty pointless. There is no point in drawing the curtains – and in this instance it really is curtains – for a few seconds and then returning to exactly the same moment in the drama. I think this play would work even better if done “straight through”.

This was the first St George’s Players production I’ve seen – somehow I missed the company before the pandemic although I’d heard of it and it’s local to me.  Quite a discovery and I’m eagerly looking forward to the next invitation.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/12-incompetent-jurors/

We’ve all been there – or at least we child bearers/rearers have. A new baby brings joy and anxiety in about equal proportions and Morgan Lloyd Malcolm’s new one act play explores that transitional territory with searing truthfulness. And, of course, motherhood is a lifelong status: once a mum, always a mum even if you’re pretty poor at it. That’s why this very gripping play (in which  the 60-minute duration seems like five) crosses the generations too.

It’s a tight three-hander in which the central character is Nina: about to be a mother, coping with it or maybe locked in post-natal depression having nightmares about the complications and implications.  Sophie Melville nails the gritty-eyed, manic exhaustion and terror of new motherhood supremely well. She is totally believable and her acting invisible as she gets more and more disturbed.

Denise Black makes a good fist of her stereotypical, bossy mother-in-law conflated with Nina’s own cantankerous, bitchy, sick mother who died just before her baby’s birth. The third member of the trio is the excellent Cat Simmons as Nina’s very sensible friend, Jackie, who also works for the NHS and is the voice of common sense and authority although, when push comes to shove, Nina knows that Jackie is trained to put the baby’s interests first and is frightened of that.

It’s complicated stuff and deeply moving although the end brings a certain relief.  And if I was expecting another Emilia (which Lloyd Malcolm wrote for Shakespeare’s Globe in 2018) I didn’t get it. Both plays are about the experience of women but completely different in style, concept and scale.

Let it not be forgotten that post natal depression is a form of mental illness. Several A list male critics were present at Mum’s press night, I shall be more interested than usual to see what they thought. I have a feeling they might, as men, struggle to understand the raw truth of this play. After all the very word “hysteria” comes from the Greek word for womb and denotes traditional male inability to understand what goes on in women’s heads. But we’ll see.

PS: I’m amused and annoyed in equal parts that a relatively sophisticated, theatrically educated press night audience should find the need to giggle every time an older women uses a four-letter word. This is 2021, folks. We knew these words before most of you were born.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/mum/

All photos: Ali Wright

Yes, it really is one of the best shows of its type I have ever seen. That said, a word-free, three hander for children performed by a highly accomplished trio of deaf actors is a pretty unusual concept for a show so bravo Polka Theatre and director, Hannah Quigley, for staging something so gloriously original and imaginative.

A 45 minute promenade piece, it starts in a spectacular wood full of coloured umbrellas and twiggy trees where charismatic, rubber bodied Ciaran O’Brien as Father (he plays other roles too) is trying to sooth his tetchy baby. Then his woodcutter partner (Bea Webster – excellent) comes home and explains what’s going on outside. We are then led through two more magical spaces, one a swamp full of rubbish with a strong eco message reinforced by clever projection and the other an art nouveau-ish castle in a black box studio where the denouement takes place. Along the way we meet the very talented Zoe McWhinney as a Mystic Swamp Folk Person and, eventually, as the titular Red.

The play is very loosely inspired by Red Riding Hood so of course there are lupine references … and I choose that word with care, The wolf is visually evoked by powerful jaws, flapping ears and pattering feet as well as by O’Brien in a grey fur tippet. It is all very explicitly conveyed in British Sign Language and powerful mime, the physicality of which almost becomes ballet. The story telling is extraordinarily clear and, at the performance I saw, the children – most of whom were clearly used to hearing conventionally – seemed to process and respond to it effortlessly. In short Red is a mini masterpiece of inclusive theatricality and communication.

This was my first visit to Polka Theatre  since its £8m redevelopment. It reopened four weeks ago. The transformation is astonishing – spacious, modern, vibrant and very welcoming with its sparky new café and colourful carpets. And yet, there’s a lot of respect for its history built in to the redesign. I’m really looking forward to seeing a main house show there soon.

I’ll be honest. I had low expectations of this show which I feared would be “weird”, esoteric and too loud. I couldn’t have been more wrong. An accessible, passionate – sometimes shocking – piece it moved me to tears as well as making me laugh. And rarely have I seen such tight ensemble work – balletic, energetic (including trampoline in the second act) with choral speaking, monologues and song. Ryan Calais Cameron’s play presents a pretty original, powerful melange.

Six black men unravel their personal stories, experiences, views and ideas. Actors emerge from the group to recall incidents or express feelings while the rest provide a chorus or sometimes represent other characters in an understated Brechtian way.

We hear about a six year old traumatised in the playground because none the girls wants to be caught by a black boy in a game of kiss chase or “miss chase”, learning the hard way that the world doesn’t necessarily agree with his mother that he is black and beautiful.Then there’s the whole question of what you have to do to become  a man – and a dreadful account of beating and abuse within a family. How to do get a girl and how many have you had? Is black skin really sexy or do you prefer it seasoned with white? What is the point of learning black history if it’s all about oppression? How is that empowering? Well don’t forget that Africans once ruled Spain, Portugal and the southern France. This meaty play is nothing like as bitty as any attempt to describe it makes it sound because it’s beautifully directed (Tristan Finn-Aiduenu) with integral music (most of it not “loud”) and movement including some effective slow motion, all of which makes it feel very cohesive.

Inevitably we end with an example of the sort of pointless, tragic atrocity which happens on the streets of London almost every week. And, watching this play, we sit in silent horror and weep at the sheer futility.

In a show with such a talented, accomplished ensemble it is almost insidious to single anyone out. Nonetheless I must mention Emmanuel Akwafo who is both a hilarious comedian and achingly poignant when his character reveals his lack of confidence in trying to build a relationship with a girl. And Kaine Lawrence delights with every curl or the lip, twitch of musculature and word he speaks or sings.

I sat next to a black man who was there alone and had never been to the New Diorama before. I’m pretty sure he was the proud father of one of the cast members but he was coy about admitting that and wouldn’t tell me which one. In the interval he said: “You know, everything in this play really does reflect what happens in the black community. You won’t get it any truer than this.” Well I’m a white woman so this is outside my direct experience on at least two counts but I found it totally, powerfully, absorbingly convincing.

First published by Sardines: https://www.sardinesmagazine.co.uk/review/for-black-boys-who-have-considered-suicide-when-the-hue-gets-too-heavy/