|
|
|
|
|
|
Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
|
|
All I have to do is Dream: Elvie Broom, left, as Puck, all drapes, drainpipes, brothel-creepers, quiff and D.A. tells of his latest mischief to the King of the Teds, sorry, Fairies, Oberon, played by Richard Ham. A Midsummer Night's Dream Sutton Arts Theatre **** THE amateur stage never ceases to
surprise in the depth of quality it can produce and Sutton Arts have
managed a little gem here. Shakespeare is not the easiest for any company,
professional or amateur, but director Debbie Loweth has made it all look
all so simple in this entertaining comedy linking the lives of
Athenian high society, the ‘rude mechanicals' from the working men's'
club and the fairies in the forest. I would say it was a modern dress version, except Robin Goodfellow, or Puck, chief mischief maker of the fairies, and Oberon, King of the Fairies, were both dressed as rather flashy teddy boys which is not exactly modern but is certainly 400 years or so more modern than doublets and hose. The Elfish Elvie Broom, as Puck, has a
mischievous, cheeky look about her and adds a nice touch with a Scouse
accent. Richard Ham, meanwhile, is working a double shift as he also
plays Theseus, Duke of Athens, which does involve twice as many words to
learn and some quick changes. Not that he is alone mind, Elena Serafinas has to
be in and out of frocks just as fast as Hippolyta, bride to be of
Theseus, and Titania, Queen of the fairies. It is the impending wedding of Theseus which
hangs the whole tale together as Hermia, Suzy Donnelly, is in love with
Lysander, Tomos Frater, who in turn loves her, but she is ordered by her
world-weary father Egeus, played by Richard Kemp, to marry
Demetrius, played by Dexter Whitehead, who also loves her although she
hates him, while Helena, Michelle Dawes, is in love with Demetrius, who
hates her. Are you keeping up at the back? Into this mix we add Oberon and Puck and a secret
love potion and Oberon's attempt to make Demetrius love Helena, which
would have worked - had Puck not administered the potion to the wrong
lover . . . but then again the course of true love never did run
smooth.
The quartet of lovers – and haters – are just
superb particularly in the fight scenes as Hermia and Helena go at each
other hammer and tongs, scattering Lysander and Demetrius across the
stage in all directions. Don't we just love a good catfight with hair
pulling and the lot? It is a long scene but they made it seem fast and
furious with never a stutter or hint of hesitation with Lysander and
Demetrius looking as if they were genuinely struggling to keep them
apart. All good stuff – and then we had the two male love rivals
in rutting mode, strutting their stuff in so you think you are hard
do you? mode threatening each other menacingly with flick knives –
although, in true bloke way, not quite menacingly enough to actually get
hurt. While all this is going on over at the
Wheeltappers and Shunters, carpenter Peter Quince, played in a resigned,
vague way by Robert Alexander, is organising - in its loosest sense -
his group of artisans into possibly the world's worst theatrical company
as they set about mangling the tale of Pyramus and Thisbe, or Thisbouyee
as Tom Snout the tinker tells us when playing the wall. As with Elvie's
Scouser Puck, Aimee Hall added interest to the part with the broadest of
Black Country accents - and a penchant for munching an endless supply of
sandwiches from her lunchbox - as well as displaying all the stage
presence of . . . well a wall. The oft quoted line is that a good actor
is someone who remembers their lines and does not bump into the
furniture. Tom Snout remembered his lines. Helping the mechanicals cause is Bottom, who in
truth is a bit of a pain in the . . . bottom. Not only does he want to
play every part in the play but claims he can do every one brilliantly.
Patrick Richmond-Ward gives him an unbounded enthusiasm and some nice
touches, such as adjusting his false moustache with a flourish during
the final performance when Bottom's acting brings new meaning to the
phrase truly dire. Matching him is Francis Flute the bellows mender,
who could well be Crossroad's Benny's long lost son, played by Richard
Aucott. The slow-witted Flute has to play Thisbouyee - which
could be an alternative reason as to why Pyramus went and topped
himself, who knows?
While they are rehearsing at night in the forest, ill met by moonlight as Shakespeare would have it, a forest, incidentally, which must have been about as crowded as the Bull Ring on the first day of the sales, Bottom ends up with an ass's head, thanks to Puck. Titania then falls in love with bottom, but
that is more thanks to Oberon and his magic potion than the fine
qualities of Bottom's ass so to speak, all of which gives us an amusing
sideline. A special mention for Josh Sood who was
responsible for the two songs, a sort of Andrew's Sisters or Inkspots
version of Shakespeare ditties, the first sung admirably by Louise
Farmer, who played Robin Starveling, who in turn played moonlight, and
fairy Moth – that part just flew by (sorry couldn't resist it). The second was from Dan Payne who played Snug,
who in turn played the Lion, and fairy Peaseblossom. Both songs had
Aimee Hall, fairy Mustardseed, and fairy Cobweb, Richard Aucott, as the
backing. There is no credit for set design in the
programme but whoever it was deserves a pat on the back. The set is
simple, stark, flexible and largely black with no curtain and no change
of scene taking more than a few seconds opening with a sort of seedy 50s
night club, which can change to the working men's' club in an instant or
swivel into a forest with just a push, jelped by a slick stage crew
while l It all helped to keep the action moving and probably have us a more authentic performance than some of the elaborate sets sometimes employed these days.
The Lord Chamberlain's Men, Shakespeare's
company, had little in the way of scenery when they first gave the dream
to the public around 1595 and, remember, Elizabethan actors often
performed their plays in what was then very much modern dress.
Roger Clarke Dashed dreams . . . SHAKESPEARE did not figure highly in the
Clarke household when I was a child – apart from one play, which reached
legendary proportions . . . A Midsummer Night's Dream. When my late father was a teenager, like most
teenage lads in the 1930s, he was a huge fan of American gangster films.
The idea of the films was to show crime did not pay with the gangster
getting his comeuppance in the final reel in a violet death at the hands
of law and order. So much for theory. The likes of George Raft,
Humphrey Bogart, Edward G Robinson, Paul Muni and ol' dirty rat himself,
Jimmy Cagney, became heroes in a Britain struggling through recession.
Talking about the latest gangster films, discussing who would win
between, say, Edward G and Raft, or even better, dressing, talking and
wisecracking like a Hollywood gangster – that was something to make life
a little more exciting in a drab Britain with its high unemployment and
take it or starve wages. Thus it was that when the latest Jimmy Cagney
film came out with stars including comedian Joe E Brown, which
guaranteed a laugh, and Micky Rooney, my father and his mates, and many
more gangster fans it must be said, flocked to the local flea-pit for
another violent prohibition epic of mobsters against the world . . . Except Cagney was playing Bottom and Rooney Puck in Max Reinhardt's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Apparently the evening was not classed as a stunning success as my father reminded everyone at any opportunity for the rest of his life. |
|
|
|
