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A beauty of a panto - oh yes it is!
There is nothing like a dame . . . and Iain Lauclan is one of panto's best, seen here (right) as Nanny Knot with John Webb as the pottering King Cuthbert. Pictures: Robert Day Sleeping Beauty The Belgrade Theatre, Coventry **** IT WAS with
inappropriate dread that I set off for the Belgrade's
Sleeping Beauty.
I simply hadn't grasped what extraordinary production values a Pantomime
in the provinces was capable of today.
In Mozart terms,
that's like sneering on the way to The
Magic Flute, surmising it couldn't
nearly measure up to Figaro. This deliciously in-your-face show, exuding
excellence in every department - direction, design, the two stunningly
ticklish leading roles - was written and directed by Iain Lauchlan, and
presented, in association with the Belgrade, by his company Imagine
Theatre, which masterminds some 40 or so tongue-in-cheek Christmas shows
across the country. If Lauchlan can deliver quality of this kind,
seasonal Pantomime is in grave danger of being revolutionised. Virtually
gone are the merely corny, hackneyed and predictable. Instead comes a newly scripted, well-gauged,
genuinely funny show for all ages: not Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty,
or some Hans Christian Andersen-like offshoot, but something both
sunnier and richly darker; more like the Brothers Grimm or, say,
Hansel and Gretel.
Designer Mark Walters is a vast part of this
scintillating show's success. His multicolour set, garishly ripe mixed
with the possibly economical, and superbly constructed, yields delight
after delight; but more important, props (the kitchen scene, for
instance) are a hoot and the costumes – especially Lauchlan's seven or
so changes as the impossible larger than life, achingly funny nurse
Nanny Knot – were out of this world.
It's easy for Pantomime – or any comic - costumes to acquire a jokey dressing-up box quality: starting to lose their bloom, a bit creased; crumpled, faded, passé. Not so here for a second: the quality of their fashioning is worthy of a Pantomime Oscar.
All the more impressive, then, that they were
generated in the Belgrade's own studios, one advantage, perhaps, of the
handsome rear stage extension, which the Belgrade's front-of-house area
and auditorium have, admittedly, yet to match. Yet the Belgrade's acoustics are fine. For a
start, both the Good Fairy (Hollie Anne Cartwright) and the show's
major-domo, Muddles (Craig Hollingsworth) had first-class diction,
attractive presence, beautifully chiselled characters and oodles of
personality. Hollingsworth's interaction with the audience is quite
superb: yet wholly fresh and original, for gags aside, Lauchlan's
shrewd, wittily-wrought script so eschews the obvious that Muddles, the
Buttons of this show, feels like an entirely novel creation.
Hollingsworth, either as young as he seems or
amazingly adept at playing a sort of indeterminate late teenager, is a
complete natural. Yet you can tell that a huge amount of thought,
calculation and intelligent hard graft has gone into the role, to lend
him identity and differentiate him it from the hack, two-dimensional
figure so characteristic of Panto. Never missing a trick,
Hollingsworth's put-upon Muddles – a mixture of Everyman, court jester
and shop-floor frontman – is a glorious creation; owing his ingenuity,
doubtless, to detailed plans worked out with Lauchlan, merged with sheer
native genius. The hand of meticulous design is on everything about this
show: the seeming effortlessness conceals hard work and much intelligent
thought.
I missed the incident-prone Press Night, when technicalities played havoc with the production, but the next day yielded a high-jinks variant, when a string of sausages discarded to the wings resisted as stubbornly as a Pantomime donkey. A series of glorious ad-libs ensued, something
along the lines of Pete and Dud or vintage Benny Hill, with the actors
struggling to keep straight faces. It emerged as a side-splitting
sequence of verbal and visual mishaps; achingly funny, especially as
contrasted with the perfectly-honed precision of everything else; except
that the ad-libs felt honed too. There were several nicely extended cameos: Katy
Stephens as the Bad Fairy was one of the weaker, armed with an
infuriatingly empty leer, enunciating variably and frankly clichéd; but
she got considerably better, her script (arguably the weakest of the
show), was partly to blame; and cardboard, impossibly two-dimensional
villains are, after all, grist to the mill with Pantos.
If she has the vocals, Stephens would have made a
really very acceptable Queen of the Night in Mozart's The Magic Flute;
that, at least, is what she looked like. Iain Lauchlan as Nanny Knot in a fetching little(ish) number which appears to have been styled on the rear of a 1959 Cadillac Sedan de Ville Her aide-de-camp, the oafish (or Lord
of the Rings-ish) Gob (Lee Samuel), with Glaswegian accent to match,
is more successful, though the accent occasionally clouds his diction. ‘Yob'
might have been just as appropriate a name. The King (Cuthbert) is a
potterer, and John Webb could potter for England; his dotty scenes early
on added a lot, although here again the script might have developed him
a little further. That leaves Prince and Princess. Morna MacPherson is a
traditional leading beau, narrowly skirting the vapid; Lindsay
Harding a touching, fey belle dormante. Each could have done with
a bit of pepping up - whether a fault in direction, script, actors, or
all three.
One of the exquisite moments in Iain Lauchlan's
staging is the Act I final tableau, in which all fall asleep, a
beautifully contrived, Nanny-free piece of blocking, reprised - to my
eye, perfectly - for the start of Act II. This was one of countless
points at which Marcus Robinson's lighting, well-mapped out,
scrupulously attentive to detail, got it right and right again. The
musical score, with a small band, seemed less distinctive, but the
group's execution under Glenn Hogue, who also played keyboards, was
immensely sound and characterful. If this Belgrade show felt like the very apex of
Pantomime excellence, it was almost all down to Iain Lauchlan. Dame
Nanny Knot deserves to go down amongst the legendary creations of the
genre. Wickedly – but rightly - awarding himself the only spotlit solo
entry from the rear stalls –a grotesque, bulbous apparition - he is in
top gear before even reaching the stage. As director, even in scenes
where Nanny is crazily cavorting (always under control) he is scrupulous
not to neglect the others.
This Pantomine Dame's quick-swap garbs - some
seven-plus total changes, plus a fabulous new colour-coded attire for
the entire ensemble at the curtain-call - are stupendous, and
wonderful on the eye. If that lot cost the Belgrade a bomb (although
with their backstage talent, it may not have done), it warranted every
penny. His make-up, too, is to die for. Larger than life, an aproned buxom Britannia,
Iain Lauchlan dominates the Belgrade stage without greedily upstaging
his cast. His attentiveness engenders a marvel of well-marshalled
teamwork, as well as a masterpiece of comic timing, which I compare
elsewhere to the unsurpassed Desmond Barrit (of RSC and National Theatre
fame). I hope to see more of Lauchlan's, or his company's, work anon: I
anticipate it, too, will be knockout. To 05-01-13. Roderic Dunnett Meanwhile behind you . . . **** THIS might be Sleeping Beauty but could
just as easily be called the Ian and Craig show. Celebrated panto dame Ian Laughlin has a long
association with the Belgrade in the festive season and is not only the
writer and director but the star as Nanny Knot delighting the audience
with his lively rapport. Muddles (Craig Hollingsworth) awarded the role of
master of ceremony joins Nanny with a collection of puns and innuendos
that appealed to all ages. Another memorably performer was Katy Stephens as
the Bad Fairy. She fulfilled her duty in causing hissing and anxious
looks in some of the under fives in the audience. She also made a good
passing attempt at a few lyrics imitating Marilyn Monroe rendition of
‘'Happy Birthday to you''. The favourite scene from a straw poll in the
interval was a prolonged slapdash icing of the cake, enhanced by a
volunteer dad, Paul, who following initial reluctance submitted to the
flying/skidding icing cake activities. This new found stardom resulted
in Paul volunteering to return. Later four small children volunteers seemed
undaunted by a friendly interview by Muddles and a gloriously
overdressed Brittannia. Costumes, particularly Laughlin's, were a
spectacular part of the show, incorporating the likes of bagpipes, pies
and the Flintstones along with bird and egg hairstyles. The excellent sets and sophisticated scene
changes were impressive for their mechanics and speed of change and the
Prince's fight with the Bad Fairy, ending in the slaying of a ferocious
dragon, even stopped younger audience members swinging their luminous
swords. The story was adapted but remained fairly
accurate until near the end. Following considerable suggestions , with
audience participation and a song, that we were in for a double wedding
with Nanny and King and the Princess and Prince that is as far as it got
with the show ending abruptly with another merry song and dance.
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