When closing dates approach I generally try to revisit shows that I liked - especially if deals abound. Last week I had the opportunity to hit two shows which are sadly on the way out.
Come Dancing has really come together since previews. It’s still on the self-indulgent side, but it doesn’t feel weighed down by it anymore. Everything that needed to be tightened up has been, and the show is a wonderful little charmer that deserves to tour well and settle in at one of the West End’s smaller venues (I nominate the Duke of York’s) for a return engagement. There’s still a few days left for this one, and tickets are still available at Stratford East’s reasonable prices, so get there while you can.
I also made it to the closing of Eurobeat on Saturday. I’ve been utterly shameless in raving about this production, and this made it my fourth visit. The show is still hilarious even when you know what’s coming, and the hosts’ freedom to ad-lib (particularly about Andrew Sachs and Icelandic banks) helps to keep it fresh. The show really turned into a cult flop of sorts, as the first timers in the crowd were clearly overwhelmed by repeat visitors bringing full sized flags and going absolutely batshit insane. Most shows can only dream of the enthusiasm the crowd brought to this performance, and it’s sad to see it go - albeit not for too long, as continental tours are going up and a new edition of the show, complete with ten new songs, is in development for an opening next year in Australia. Good times await, as does a sad one as I try to find the time and money to make a fleeting return to Brief Encounter before the 16th...
Showing posts with label stratford east. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stratford east. Show all posts
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Sunday, 21 September 2008
REVIEW: "Come Dancing"
(Note: This is the second of two reviews posted on the same day. Read below or check the RSS feed for thoughts on the press launch for Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Also, the RZ wrote this review between films at the Osamu Tezuka festival currently running at the Barbican and the public wifi was inconveniently borked, hence the lack of cast or creative names.)
Sometimes it’s fun to be the mean-spirited voice of doom when reviewing shows, but sometimes it’s an annoyance. Case in point, Come Dancing, the new musical concluding previews at the Theatre Royal Stratford East. Written, scored, and narrated by ex-Kinks front-man Ray Davies, Come Dancing is meant to be a wistfully nostalgic look at dance hall culture in the oh-so-British 1950’s.
The good news is that it succeeds in most key aspects: the stage has been transformed into the local Palais, complete with onstage seating and a functional bar, the characters and attitudes are appropriately period, and while there’s a fair amount of cliché or face-palm worthy material, the good nature of the piece makes it quaintly familiar rather than preaching or hitting the audience over the head with the conceptual cricket bat. Davies’ score uses a handful of his hits, but also comes through with 20 new songs, all appealing if not catchy, and balances the evening between the big band standards and dance hall crooners of old and the early days of rock ‘n’ roll.
So where does it all go wrong? The biggest place is with Ray Davies himself. Not content to be a behind the scenes force, Davies goes Bright Lights Big City on the audience and takes over as a narrator, watching from the bar and commenting from time to time when not chatting with the leading lady. The result is that the show isn’t about dance hall culture but about HIM and HIS CRIPPLED SISTER and how HE wanted to write HIS song about it. The result, needless to say, is intrusive and self-indulgent: the material is strong enough to stand on its own, disabled girl seeking forbidden interracial love and all. Come Dancing’s second great weakness is in its direction: the night the RZ went, the scene and song->book->song transitions were slack and lacked sharpness and power. Admittedly, the RZ saw the show almost a week ago at the second preview, and the director could have cleaned this up greatly, but these are generally the last things to get attention. Given time the cast and band may resolve the issues on their own, or it could have been fixed already. Either way, the RZ wondered how much stronger the show would have been if, say, Des McAnuff had handled the direction.
These two flaws combine to form the third: the pacing. While the story is enjoyable and never drags, the action is slow to build in the first act with the last 5-10 minutes on comparative rocket speed in order to hit an appropriate point for an interval. The second act is better, and the RZ is unsure of whether or not this problem is fixable: the show is already tight at just over two hours, and there’s no room to cut the story any further. In a way, issue three could be a result of issue one: were Davies’ narrator to go and his lines and songs reassigned to the characters (all of which would work with somebody else singing them), the problem may resolve itself, but it’s hard to say and the RZ can’t quite put his finger on why it doesn’t work.
Therefore, it’s difficult to comfortably pass a final verdict: there’s a very good (though admittedly not a great or brilliant) show in Come Dancing, but it’s buried under the trappings of a decent to good one. The RZ would still encourage readers to see the show at Stratford East when tickets are still cheap, but couldn’t recommend it at higher West End or even touring prices without further retooling.
Where: Theatre Royal Stratford East
When: Until 11 October, T-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: Until 23 Sep: £12-20, From 23 Sep: £14-40
Concessions: £9-17, not good for onstage and front stalls table seats
-------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £17. It’s a good show, but not a great show.
RZ Other Notes: For the hubbub about the amateur dancers, they don’t do much (a bit of ballroom before the show and during the interval). Likewise, the much hyped onstage bar is obstructed from the left side of the circle - avoid if you want to watch Ray Davies watching the cast instead of patrons paying £40 to sit onstage watching the cast.
Sometimes it’s fun to be the mean-spirited voice of doom when reviewing shows, but sometimes it’s an annoyance. Case in point, Come Dancing, the new musical concluding previews at the Theatre Royal Stratford East. Written, scored, and narrated by ex-Kinks front-man Ray Davies, Come Dancing is meant to be a wistfully nostalgic look at dance hall culture in the oh-so-British 1950’s.
The good news is that it succeeds in most key aspects: the stage has been transformed into the local Palais, complete with onstage seating and a functional bar, the characters and attitudes are appropriately period, and while there’s a fair amount of cliché or face-palm worthy material, the good nature of the piece makes it quaintly familiar rather than preaching or hitting the audience over the head with the conceptual cricket bat. Davies’ score uses a handful of his hits, but also comes through with 20 new songs, all appealing if not catchy, and balances the evening between the big band standards and dance hall crooners of old and the early days of rock ‘n’ roll.
So where does it all go wrong? The biggest place is with Ray Davies himself. Not content to be a behind the scenes force, Davies goes Bright Lights Big City on the audience and takes over as a narrator, watching from the bar and commenting from time to time when not chatting with the leading lady. The result is that the show isn’t about dance hall culture but about HIM and HIS CRIPPLED SISTER and how HE wanted to write HIS song about it. The result, needless to say, is intrusive and self-indulgent: the material is strong enough to stand on its own, disabled girl seeking forbidden interracial love and all. Come Dancing’s second great weakness is in its direction: the night the RZ went, the scene and song->book->song transitions were slack and lacked sharpness and power. Admittedly, the RZ saw the show almost a week ago at the second preview, and the director could have cleaned this up greatly, but these are generally the last things to get attention. Given time the cast and band may resolve the issues on their own, or it could have been fixed already. Either way, the RZ wondered how much stronger the show would have been if, say, Des McAnuff had handled the direction.
These two flaws combine to form the third: the pacing. While the story is enjoyable and never drags, the action is slow to build in the first act with the last 5-10 minutes on comparative rocket speed in order to hit an appropriate point for an interval. The second act is better, and the RZ is unsure of whether or not this problem is fixable: the show is already tight at just over two hours, and there’s no room to cut the story any further. In a way, issue three could be a result of issue one: were Davies’ narrator to go and his lines and songs reassigned to the characters (all of which would work with somebody else singing them), the problem may resolve itself, but it’s hard to say and the RZ can’t quite put his finger on why it doesn’t work.
Therefore, it’s difficult to comfortably pass a final verdict: there’s a very good (though admittedly not a great or brilliant) show in Come Dancing, but it’s buried under the trappings of a decent to good one. The RZ would still encourage readers to see the show at Stratford East when tickets are still cheap, but couldn’t recommend it at higher West End or even touring prices without further retooling.
Where: Theatre Royal Stratford East
When: Until 11 October, T-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 15:00
How Much: Until 23 Sep: £12-20, From 23 Sep: £14-40
Concessions: £9-17, not good for onstage and front stalls table seats
-------------------------
RZ Unofficial “Worth Paying”: £17. It’s a good show, but not a great show.
RZ Other Notes: For the hubbub about the amateur dancers, they don’t do much (a bit of ballroom before the show and during the interval). Likewise, the much hyped onstage bar is obstructed from the left side of the circle - avoid if you want to watch Ray Davies watching the cast instead of patrons paying £40 to sit onstage watching the cast.
Saturday, 24 May 2008
THOUGHTS: The Harder They Come (Transfer)
(Four days after and still no comment on Gone With The Wind revisited...)
Every now and then, the critics have to eat their words. And in this case, the RZ is going to eat his about this show having no chance of going commercial. Taking on a limited run at the Playhouse between now and whenever La Cage finally arrives from the Chocolate Factory, The Harder They Come is back in London and better than ever.
First and foremost, the book’s mess has been mopped up. The RZ approximates 10-15 minutes of obvious material are gone including a song at the beginning and a major spoiler-tastic scene towards the end. Some songs have been trimmed and other scenes clarified. The plot is streamlined, the acts feel more balanced, and it’s just right. The contrast of low budget staging and fancy West End theatre also helps to emphasise the show’s grit, lost to the concrete bunker known as the Barbican.
The music sounds better than ever too, and the cast deliver tight group numbers and some of the best choreography in the West End. The Harder They Come is still driven by its music, and a repeat visit only drove home the strength of the score.
With a (much) smaller stage than the main house at the Barbican, the RZ suspects that the West End transfer is closer to the original and while there’s an added intimacy in the tiny Playhouse, the energy feels lower as well, the side effect of taking a cast from original to transfer to tour to transfer in such a whirlwind. It may pay off to wait a bit before going, just so the cast can clear previews and get some rest.
The question is, does the transfer justify West End prices? Fortunately for punters, the prices are cheaper than most straight plays in the West End, a benefit of subsidised backing. Therefore, the RZ suggests booking ASAP to those who want to escape from the recent bombastic offerings from the old school and fast food fluff from the new.
Where: Playhouse Theatre
When: Until 1 Nov., M-Sa @ 19:30, W & Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £10-£32.50*
Concessions: Check with the BO
--------------------
RZ Unofficial Worth Paying: £32.50 for getting it right and doing it for less.
RZ Other Notes: Somebody would be very foolish not to make a cast recording or official DVD of this show.
*OK so they offer premium tickets for £50, but you know what? Those aren’t on the proper scale and while they aren’t as stupidly expensive as in the US, the RZ strongly encourages British patrons NOT to support producers in this attempt to sell overpriced tickets.
Every now and then, the critics have to eat their words. And in this case, the RZ is going to eat his about this show having no chance of going commercial. Taking on a limited run at the Playhouse between now and whenever La Cage finally arrives from the Chocolate Factory, The Harder They Come is back in London and better than ever.
First and foremost, the book’s mess has been mopped up. The RZ approximates 10-15 minutes of obvious material are gone including a song at the beginning and a major spoiler-tastic scene towards the end. Some songs have been trimmed and other scenes clarified. The plot is streamlined, the acts feel more balanced, and it’s just right. The contrast of low budget staging and fancy West End theatre also helps to emphasise the show’s grit, lost to the concrete bunker known as the Barbican.
The music sounds better than ever too, and the cast deliver tight group numbers and some of the best choreography in the West End. The Harder They Come is still driven by its music, and a repeat visit only drove home the strength of the score.
With a (much) smaller stage than the main house at the Barbican, the RZ suspects that the West End transfer is closer to the original and while there’s an added intimacy in the tiny Playhouse, the energy feels lower as well, the side effect of taking a cast from original to transfer to tour to transfer in such a whirlwind. It may pay off to wait a bit before going, just so the cast can clear previews and get some rest.
The question is, does the transfer justify West End prices? Fortunately for punters, the prices are cheaper than most straight plays in the West End, a benefit of subsidised backing. Therefore, the RZ suggests booking ASAP to those who want to escape from the recent bombastic offerings from the old school and fast food fluff from the new.
Where: Playhouse Theatre
When: Until 1 Nov., M-Sa @ 19:30, W & Sa @ 14:30
How Much: £10-£32.50*
Concessions: Check with the BO
--------------------
RZ Unofficial Worth Paying: £32.50 for getting it right and doing it for less.
RZ Other Notes: Somebody would be very foolish not to make a cast recording or official DVD of this show.
*OK so they offer premium tickets for £50, but you know what? Those aren’t on the proper scale and while they aren’t as stupidly expensive as in the US, the RZ strongly encourages British patrons NOT to support producers in this attempt to sell overpriced tickets.
Wednesday, 12 March 2008
REVIEW: "The Harder They Come"
(In honour of the Arts Council, perhaps this one could be referred to as tick-box reviewing...)
Jamaica is a beautiful land of bright colours, reggae music, marijuana, and evangelical Christianity where even the most abject poverty can be accepted with a song and a spliff. At least that’s what Perry Henzell would have audiences believe in (get ready for it) the Barbican’s transfer of Theatre Royal Stratford East’s production of Henzell’s adaptation of his original 1972 film The Harder They Come, which he co-wrote with Trevor Rhone.
Whew, what a mouthful.
This tale of a country boy’s attempts to make it big in the music business via sex, drugs, and violence has gone through two sold-out productions at its fringe home and is parked at the Barbican for a month before embarking on a UK tour. Brimming with soulful reggae classics and a glowing passion for life in the face of adversity, The Harder They Come is a solid night out, albeit flawed. By handling his own adaptation, Henzell assumes a level of familiarity with the film’s plot and the Jamaican politics of its time which modern (white?) British audiences are likely to miss without going home and checking resources on the original material. In addition to the subtextual issues, a more glaring problem comes as the book takes leaps through protagonist Ivan’s life without any solid idea of a timescale. When Ivan turns from frustrated musician to revolutionary anti-hero, it happens in the blink of an eye and a scene lacking clarity.
That said, most audience members aren’t expecting (or seeking) a work about Caribbean socioeconomic concerns, and the score, recycling the film’s line up with a healthy dose of classics and standards (all uncredited) to boot is where it’s at. The result is a mix of tones and outlooks, frequently finding the humour in bleak events - Little Sally wouldn’t call this a happy musical, but it’s joyous nonetheless.
Rolan Bell leads the endlessly energetic cast as the ruthlessly naïve Ivan with some of the best dance moves to hit the London stage in months. The remaining cast have individual identities during the dialogue scenes, but fall back to form the community surrounding Ivan’s life during most of the songs.
Design-wise, this production betrays its low budget roots. A cheap looking fixed set by Ultz (also responsible for Stratford East’s recent production of The Blacks) is decked out in red/yellow/green, containing the cast as they mill about with the band located in centre stage and stage right. His costumes, likely resembling the film (the RZ hasn’t seen it), bring out the the best and worst of 1970’s excess from disco to blaxploitation films. While the period is evoked, nothing in the design resembles the grit present in the material or the original film’s image.
While The Harder They Come doesn’t fall hard on its arse, it’s an imperfect yet infectious time out, though non-Brits are likely to feel they’re missing something. The Island experience is tied far more closely to the Black British community (and therefore UK culture at large) than the Af-Am subculture in the States, one would be hard pressed to justify missing this in what is shaping up to be a solid spring for musical fans.
Where: Barbican Main Stage
When: M-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 14:30 until 5 April
How Much: £10-£30
Concessions: All tickets £5 on 2 April @ 14:30, check with Barbican for others.
-----------------------
RZ Unofficial Worth Paying: £20. Off-Broadway script and production values.
RZ Other Notes: It’s fascinating to see how the newspaper critics handle shows like these. At the Guardian, Lyn Gardner gushed over this show’s fringe run and the fact that it’s apparently the first all-black cast and creative team musical to be in the UK, while the Telegraph’s reviewer took a far more standard approach. Would this have had the lifespan it’s had including its new high profile run if it had white producers or directors? Who knows. What the RZ does know is that the prospects of a West End run happening, let alone turning a profit for The Harder They Come are slim, even if it is following the same adaptation formula as, say, the ultra white-bread Dirty Dancing.
Jamaica is a beautiful land of bright colours, reggae music, marijuana, and evangelical Christianity where even the most abject poverty can be accepted with a song and a spliff. At least that’s what Perry Henzell would have audiences believe in (get ready for it) the Barbican’s transfer of Theatre Royal Stratford East’s production of Henzell’s adaptation of his original 1972 film The Harder They Come, which he co-wrote with Trevor Rhone.
Whew, what a mouthful.
This tale of a country boy’s attempts to make it big in the music business via sex, drugs, and violence has gone through two sold-out productions at its fringe home and is parked at the Barbican for a month before embarking on a UK tour. Brimming with soulful reggae classics and a glowing passion for life in the face of adversity, The Harder They Come is a solid night out, albeit flawed. By handling his own adaptation, Henzell assumes a level of familiarity with the film’s plot and the Jamaican politics of its time which modern (white?) British audiences are likely to miss without going home and checking resources on the original material. In addition to the subtextual issues, a more glaring problem comes as the book takes leaps through protagonist Ivan’s life without any solid idea of a timescale. When Ivan turns from frustrated musician to revolutionary anti-hero, it happens in the blink of an eye and a scene lacking clarity.
That said, most audience members aren’t expecting (or seeking) a work about Caribbean socioeconomic concerns, and the score, recycling the film’s line up with a healthy dose of classics and standards (all uncredited) to boot is where it’s at. The result is a mix of tones and outlooks, frequently finding the humour in bleak events - Little Sally wouldn’t call this a happy musical, but it’s joyous nonetheless.
Rolan Bell leads the endlessly energetic cast as the ruthlessly naïve Ivan with some of the best dance moves to hit the London stage in months. The remaining cast have individual identities during the dialogue scenes, but fall back to form the community surrounding Ivan’s life during most of the songs.
Design-wise, this production betrays its low budget roots. A cheap looking fixed set by Ultz (also responsible for Stratford East’s recent production of The Blacks) is decked out in red/yellow/green, containing the cast as they mill about with the band located in centre stage and stage right. His costumes, likely resembling the film (the RZ hasn’t seen it), bring out the the best and worst of 1970’s excess from disco to blaxploitation films. While the period is evoked, nothing in the design resembles the grit present in the material or the original film’s image.
While The Harder They Come doesn’t fall hard on its arse, it’s an imperfect yet infectious time out, though non-Brits are likely to feel they’re missing something. The Island experience is tied far more closely to the Black British community (and therefore UK culture at large) than the Af-Am subculture in the States, one would be hard pressed to justify missing this in what is shaping up to be a solid spring for musical fans.
Where: Barbican Main Stage
When: M-Sa @ 19:30, Sa @ 14:30 until 5 April
How Much: £10-£30
Concessions: All tickets £5 on 2 April @ 14:30, check with Barbican for others.
-----------------------
RZ Unofficial Worth Paying: £20. Off-Broadway script and production values.
RZ Other Notes: It’s fascinating to see how the newspaper critics handle shows like these. At the Guardian, Lyn Gardner gushed over this show’s fringe run and the fact that it’s apparently the first all-black cast and creative team musical to be in the UK, while the Telegraph’s reviewer took a far more standard approach. Would this have had the lifespan it’s had including its new high profile run if it had white producers or directors? Who knows. What the RZ does know is that the prospects of a West End run happening, let alone turning a profit for The Harder They Come are slim, even if it is following the same adaptation formula as, say, the ultra white-bread Dirty Dancing.
Thursday, 7 February 2008
THOUGHTS: "RENT Remixed" Closing
(Second post today, read below for more.)
So the RZ bit the bullet and went to the production of doom for a third time. It just seemed like the right thing to do - having been in the front row for the first production, he was in the back of the circles for the last. And what do you know, this time it almost clicked. Perhaps it was Jesse Wallace not being as vulgar and in-your-face as Denise Van Outen. Perhaps it was having a Mimi who could sing without gasping like she were drowning and fading into the ensemble. Or maybe it was just not caring anymore. The production retained its major flaws in structure and text, but taken as a concert of Larson's songs, it was a passable and dare the RZ say, entertaining evening. While it fails as a production of a cohesive musical, the RZ still feels there is enough interesting material here to justify aural preservation but doubts a legit CD will ever come.
Meanwhile, as far as the West End Disaster Watch goes, the internet is eagerly anticipating April's opening of Gone With The Wind, and the RZ's first preview ticket is thankfully purchased and at the ready. For the musically deprived otherwise, Stratford East have a Barbican transfer opening soon, an in-house production doing the same, and Hackney Empire are working through a musical about Sister Wendy, the great art-show Nun. Indeed, there are good times ahead.
So the RZ bit the bullet and went to the production of doom for a third time. It just seemed like the right thing to do - having been in the front row for the first production, he was in the back of the circles for the last. And what do you know, this time it almost clicked. Perhaps it was Jesse Wallace not being as vulgar and in-your-face as Denise Van Outen. Perhaps it was having a Mimi who could sing without gasping like she were drowning and fading into the ensemble. Or maybe it was just not caring anymore. The production retained its major flaws in structure and text, but taken as a concert of Larson's songs, it was a passable and dare the RZ say, entertaining evening. While it fails as a production of a cohesive musical, the RZ still feels there is enough interesting material here to justify aural preservation but doubts a legit CD will ever come.
Meanwhile, as far as the West End Disaster Watch goes, the internet is eagerly anticipating April's opening of Gone With The Wind, and the RZ's first preview ticket is thankfully purchased and at the ready. For the musically deprived otherwise, Stratford East have a Barbican transfer opening soon, an in-house production doing the same, and Hackney Empire are working through a musical about Sister Wendy, the great art-show Nun. Indeed, there are good times ahead.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
