On Wednesday night 150 Theatregoers attended our sell out Outing to see Peter Hall’s acclaimed production of Pygmalion at the Old Vic Theatre in Waterloo. The production of George Bernard Shaw’s 1916 classic started life with a highly successful, Whatsonstage.com Award winning run at the Theatre Royal, Bath last year.

 Original stars Michelle Dockery and Tim Pigott-Smith star as Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle. All of our Theatregoers were given a free programme as they settled down to watch the classic rags to riches tale of a cockney flower girl transformed into a society duchess by a phonetics teacher. The cast also features James Laurenson (as Colonel Pickering), Una Stubbs (Mrs Pearce), Tony Haygarth (Alfred Doolittle) and Barbara Jefford (Mrs Higgins). During the interval Whatsonstage.com Theatregoers claimed their free drink in the Old Vic’s sumptuous Pit Bar. Read the rest of this entry »

Tonight’s opening of The Revenger’s Tragedy at the National is a reminder of the spontaneous combustion that often leads to the the most exciting theatre.

This is the play that in 1966 made Trevor Nunn’s reputation overnight and convinced Peter Hall that the young Turk should succeed him as head of the RSC.

In fact, Peter Hall is alleged to have said at the Stratford dress rehearsal that Nunn’s production marked the most exciting directorial debut in the town since his own.

And it was virtually a stop gap at the end of depressing season. It was Nunn’s first solo RSC production, mounted on a minimal budget on the set being used for David Warner’s Hamlet with only one well known actor in the leading roles, Ian Richardson.

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It was the week of the big blow-out: Neil LaBute’s Fat Pig proved size was a big tissue, the television series Super-sizers revealed two presenters, Giles Coren and Sue Perkins, eating for England down the ages until they were sick, and big Jodie from Blackpool (says she’s size 14; make that an 18) won the role of Nancy in Oliver! despite the fact that neither Cameron Mackintosh the producer, nor Andrew Lloyd Webber, the theatre owner, wanted her to.

Will Jodie manage eight shows a week? Will she do anything at all surprising as Nancy? Will director Rupert Goold be thrilled that she’s won the role ahead of my favourites, Rachel and Niamh, not to mention Jessie who came on strong towards the end?

I guess the answer is no to all three questions. One thing’s for certain: it’s the time of the big girl in the West End at the moment, what with Leanne Jones in Hairspray, the wonderful Ella Smith in Fat Pig and next up Jodie in Oliver!

On top of which fatty food for thought I had lunch in Joe Allen with an old friend and scoffed Eggs Benedict and hash browns just to keep Sir Derek Jacobi company; he was doing exactly the same at the next table but arose and made his exit with his customary grace and agility. Mind you, he did have broccoli on the side. I had extra fries and chocolate dessert.

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The Lord kept mentioning that he wasn’t sure if said Nancy has the stamina to do eight shows a week. Seems like none of them are allowed to! See below before you book, expecting to see the winning lass!

This is from the see tickets website:

Performance Schedule – Nancy & Oliver

As performances do not commence until 12 December, we do not yet have a full confirmed performance schedule for Nancy and Oliver.

Due to licensing issues we cannot decide which Oliver will perform until shortly before the performance starts.

Sickness and holiday permitting, we have decided that the winning Nancy is scheduled to perform on Monday and Tuesday evenings, Wednesday matinees and Friday evenings. Until the show opens in December we cannot make a final decision on any additional performances.

Cameron Mackintosh Ltd

There’s a lot of drama in sport. So why, I wonder, is there so little sport in drama? The thought came to me while watching Richard Bean’s The English Game on tour at Guildford. This cracking play (it arrives at Kingston’s Rose Theatre this month) uses cricket as a metaphor for the splits and fissures in English life. Yet, as I watched a Surrey audience lapping up Bean’s joke-filled state-of-the-nation play, I found myself puzzling over why theatre still takes a slightly sniffy attitude to sport.

Cricket hasn’t done too badly. Richard Harris’ Outside Edge caught the tension amongst the tea-making wives on the boundary: I remember my old sports journalist mate, Frank Keating, coming up to me on the first night and wittily describing it as “Ayckbourn off a shorter run”. And the great Ayckbourn himself included an off-stage cricket-match in Time and Time Again. You could also add to the list Terrence Rattigan’s TV play and film The Final Test, and the cricketing metaphors that pepper Pinter’s work. But it’s taken Bean to realise that cricket has a lot to tell us about who we are: just as the spirit of cricket is being eroded, so, Bean suggests, our native tradition of tolerance is being capsized by saloon-bar racism and the anti-Islamist stance of bullying media pundits.

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Well, now that the dust has settled and you have had time to pick yourself up off the floor, or maybe you have just finished watching Britain’s Got Talent on Skyplus; what a final!

I must admit I didn’t have the pleasure of watching the results show live, as I was at a gig, but I did see the three girls battle it out to begin with. Then I blocked all media coverage and watched the results at midnight, braced for a bad result. But what of the final three?

Firstly, Sam handled herself with real grace. I know I have given her some stick on here as she did seem slightly too driven for me and lacking in emotion. Her performances again, lacked the pizzazz yesterday needed to win, but she was a really gracious third place contestant. Not once did she resemble a spoilt brat like many do who get so close.

If you saw Britain’s Got Talent on the other side, you probably know what I mean. I’m sure this lass has a future, she could end up in Chicago, although I can see Bill Kenwright rubbing his hands with glee as he may just have found another narrator for his Joseph tour; an ideal role for Sam. If Tara can do it! Read the rest of this entry »

My spies tell me that Jessie, Jodie, Sam and the lord himself were spotted at one of Liza Minnelli’s gigs in London last week. Anyone who saw JB and the Lord on Jonathan Ross last night will know why. Liza coaches the girls tonight, well not literally, but the via the V.T as it has already happened.

It got me thinking really, as I am lucky enough to be reviewing one of Liza’s gigs on Monday night in Manchester. One of the reasons why I love this singer is that you feel when she is on stage that she is getting rid of some inner demons; she completely loses herself in the moment, just like her late mother, Judy Garland. Sure, she’s not as good as she used to be, but she still brings emotion to a song by the bowler hatful.

Now, I know that I’d Do Anything is ultimately a reality tv show, but sometimes the contestants are criticised for having “nothing behind the eyes”, “lack of depth”, or “not feeling the song.” But then you listen to them off stage and all you hear is “I have wanted this al my life!” Have they really? Since birth, all they have thought about is Nancy? It’s a very small part, why didn’t they aim higher?! Read the rest of this entry »

With the final just twenty four hours away, everyone has their favourite, although unlike Joseph and Maria, many folks’ faves have since been sent packing. Has your Nancy left the building already? Or is the feisty one still there, waiting to win?

I liked Rachel and thought Sarah was a very talented lass. I also thought Ashley had a certain something; she wasn’t always on the money but, as a reality tv character, she had a real survival instinct which became very endearing. So, as you read through my ideal scenario for tomorrow, leave a comment whether you agree or not, as you guys have kept this blog going and your views are really appreciated.

First to go:
Hopefully Jessie. I know this Irish philly has a huge following but apart from the voice, which on the odd show has been exceptional, there is no star quality. The posture, the answering back to the panelists and the awkwardness of this performer needs ironing out and it will take more than a few months to do that.

Next:
Sam. There is no doubting that this girl has grown as a performer. But due to the constant praise, she seems to believe her own hype, beyond belief. The role itself requires some emotional depths to be plunged. Can you imagine the Bill Sykes scene, whereby he beats Nancy? Sam would either smile throughout or look blank, as she has no real acting style apart from earnest or happy. Read the rest of this entry »

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On Tuesday night (27 May 2008) Whatsonstage.com was joined by over 120 Theatregoers at the Duke of York’s Theatre in London’s West End for the most anticipated new play of the year, 21-year-old Polly Stenham’s That Face.

The first 25 people to book for the Outing were happy to learn that they had won a That Face posters signed by the cast. All of our Theatregoers were quick to settle into their top price seats to watch the funny, emotional and often thought provoking play that deals with alcohol abuse and relationships within a family in meltdown. Read the rest of this entry »

Alan Brien died last Friday. He was the first, and best ever, theatre critic on the Sunday Telegraph; indeed he was the first appointment to that newspaper when it was launched in the early 1960s.

That was the measure of Alan’s distinction. The Sunderland son of an electrical engineer on the town’s trams, he went to Bede Grammar School and Oxford via a stretch in the RAF at the end of the war including a raid on Hitler’s mountain retreat of Berchtesgarden.

He was both earthy and urbane, worldly and thoroughly radical, a brilliant talker and writer on many subjects and a great rival, as well as friend, of Kenneth Tynan. They don’t make critics like him any more, certainly not on the Sunday Telegraph, anyway.

He was a regular star contributor to Plays and Players when I edited the magazine in the mid 1970s. He was always late with his copy, to the extent that I used to have to go round to his Paddington apartment and wrench it physically from his own hands.

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