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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. |
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Murder and mayhem takes a bow
Herman (Stefan Austin, left), Anne (Kerena Taylor) and Robert (Martin Copland-Grey) and at the centre of the action among the twists and intrigue of theatre thriller Stage Struck
The Nonentities The Rose Theatre, Kidderminster *** A DRAMATIC surprise, well accomplished,
at the end of the first act gives Simon Gray's thriller the lift it
probably needs, and lays the foundation for a post-interval feast of
gunshots, shocks and a general increase in excitement. The story concerns a theatre couple: he is a
stage manager who is envious of his actress wife's successes – but it is
what happens, rather than the reasons for it, that carries it along. The
most memorable line comes when one of the cast of four picks up the
telephone and says, “This is the deceased speaking.” Mr Gray is clearly inviting us not to take things
too seriously. Perhaps he was deliberately testing our attention when
someone lies on his back – ie, supine – on the settee and is
required to announce that he is prone, which is not the same thing at
all. In any case, he need not have said anything: we can see quite
clearly for ourselves the position he has put himself in. And what are we too make of the symbolic knife
and gun that we learn have been laid on the bed? Do they mean that death
is coming murderously to the man or to his wife, or is there a suicide
in store?
Martin Copland-Grey is Robert, the husband of
seven years, the behind-the-scenes man on the way to claiming his
own starring role. He spends much of the action in an excited twitter,
but somehow manages to stay in control of the remarkable speed with
which he is occasionally required to speak. Kerena Taylor brings self-confident glamour as
the actress who has won awards. Her name is Anne, and it seems something
special in the way of coincidence that the psychiatrist to whom she
turns – and she was turning all the way back in 1979, when this
agreeable piece of hokum was written – is called Widdicombe, so we now
know that as far as politics and the dance floor are concerned we've
been watching life imitating art. Bob Graham is Widdicombe. He arrives as Anne's
well-spoken psychiatrist but is required in the second act to sound like
one of the lads from darn sarf, which he does with conviction, well
sustaining an unexpected interlude when he holds centre-stage with
aplomb. Stefan Austin is the amiable, if unlikely-named,
Herman, who takes his turn in the gun-pointing palaver that happens
after the interval. There are red herrings and red blood. There's a
bleeding body behind the settee: there must be, because we can see it. I
bet stage manager Keith Higgins and his talented set-building crew were
relieved when they realised that their excellent handiwork was going to
emerge unscathed from all that shooting and stabbing. To 19-02-11 John Slim |
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