★★★½

“Auton – with the soul of a poet – is funny, self-deprecating, eager to please and brimful of hope”

Genial optimist and shaman-in-a-suit Rob Auton asks us to close our eyes at the opening of his set. For a while we sit in the dark. He asks, have we ever worn trainers that fit as snugly as our eyes in their sockets?

Ironically – for we are briefly blind – he then invites us to see life as he does: full of wonder and curiosity and moments of accidental scintillation.

For the next hour, the comedian conjures worlds where the advice on the side of a washing up liquid bottle – leave the dirtiest dishes till last to keep the water cleaner for longer – is evidence of universal kindness.

He shambles around on stage, a self-confessed hopeless mic-wrangler, appearing like “Harry Styles, only old and depressed”. He has long hair and a beard, like Jesus, which is good for a gag or two.

The ultimate shuteye is death, of course. He reflects on a visit to Heptonstall cemetery where Sylvia Plath is buried (“that’s the kind of stag do’s I get invited to”). He notes how the poet’s fans have left pens and pencils on her headstone. He admires a life that could inspire such affection.

But thinking further, he asks whether he’d swap places – dead with headstone pens or alive with pen in hand.

Alive, he believes, always alive. And what follows is an aching entreaty to the living from all those buried alongside Sylvia Plath, each yearning to return to old hobbies now denied them. Auton is not above moving sincerity in between the cute gags. Indeed, that’s his act.

But then he’s back to life’s oddities. Take blinking. He conjures a parallel world where everything is the same except people make a clucking noise when they blink.

He shambles through his set, delightfully capricious. He swears there’s a script, but he sounds like a wacky dad looking out the car window making on-the-fly observations to entertain bored kids. These thoughts often coalesce into what one might recognise as a joke, other times not so much. (Punchlines are not a priority, he declares early on). There is a fuzzy Work In Progress feel for which his charm mostly, if not entirely, compensates.

This is a funny and surprisingly touching tribute to life as a slender moment of awareness packed with opportunity. We leave the theatre high on his hippyish zeal and optimism.

The show has yet to find its full potential. But in the meantime, Auton – with the soul of a poet – is funny, self-deprecating, eager to please and brimful of hope. The winter chill is thawed by his sunny rays.

PLAY ON!

Lyric Hammersmith

★★★★★

“The unique quality of this musical is that each number comes with its own ever-increasing ‘wow factor’.”

The atmosphere in the bar is electric. The only thing missing is the fog of cigarette smoke, otherwise we’ve walked into an old brownstone building on the corner of 52nd Street. It is the early 1940s. Was that Charlie Parker over there by the bar? I’m sure I just saw Dizzy Gillespie. Through the crowds clutching their Daiquiris and Manhattans, I think I can hear Duke Ellington strike a few opening chords on the grand piano. But then the chime of the intercom – with its five-minute call – brings us back into the twenty-first century, as we file into the auditorium for Sheldon Epps’ musical “Play On!”

The title comes from the Duke’s famous opening line from “Twelfth Night” on which this musical is based. Epps’ concept, with the book by Cheryl L. West, takes brazen liberties with Shakespeare while still convincing us of its faithfulness. The result is a revelation – as we are transported from Illyria to the Cotton Club in Harlem in nineteen-forty-something. The music of Duke Ellington slots into the narrative as though he were commissioned to write the songs specifically for this show. This is hardcore jazz, steeped in tradition, but sharing the stage with its modern sister ‘hip-hop’ thanks to the stunning choreography of Kenrick H2O Sandy MBE.

The opening routine sets the tone – a burst of precision and emotion, the ensemble moving as one, led by Llewellyn Jamal. Breaking free from the song and from his magnetic dance moves, Jamal coaxes us into the action, playing Jester – a chancing, two-timing yet loveable rogue. Into the club wanders his niece, Viola (Tsemaye Bob-Egbe), an aspiring songwriter looking to make it big in the Big Apple, and hoping to join the ranks of the club’s band leader ‘Duke’. She hasn’t bargained for the reception she receives though. “Ain’t no woman can do songwriting” her uncle Jester tells her. To be taken seriously she dresses as a man and becomes Vyman. Meanwhile ‘Duke’ (Earl Gregory) is suffering from writer’s block, unable to complete his melodies. With his Mojo gone, so too has the affections of Lady Liv (KoKo Alexandra) the nightclub’s diva. Vyman is tasked with trying to put things right and, with the help and hindrance of Rev (Cameron Bernard Jones), Miss Mary (Tanya Edwards) and Sweets (Lifford Shillingford) we embark on a very Shakespearean comedy of errors. With all that jazz.

The unique quality of this musical is that each number comes with its own ever-increasing ‘wow factor’. And each performer matches the demands of the material with equal virtuosity. Gregory’s plaintive ‘I Let a Song Go Out of My Heart’ is followed by Alexandra’s ‘Mood Indigo’ (what an entrance Alexandra makes!). Bob-Egbe’s ‘Don’t Get Around Much Anymore’ rightly betrays the fact that she does get around a lot on the musical theatre scene. Smoky, bluesy ballads interlock with Bebop, big band syncopation. ‘It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing’, but “Play On!” swings over the edge, and we cling on in ecstasy as it sways to the rhythm. An infectious and irresistible rhythm courtesy of the onstage five-piece band, led by musical director Ashton Moore at the grand piano.

Each number is a highlight – the solos, duets, quartets and more. Jamal and Shillingford deliver a brilliantly hilarious ‘Rocks in My Bed’ while the first act closes with a rousing ‘Solitude’, each singer overlapping before coming together into a rousing, show-stopping ensemble. The vocal dexterity is matched by their handling of West’s text. Bob-Egbe’s fluidity and Jamal’s flexibility are a master class in acting and timing, while Gregory’s cool smoky tones evoke the period with echoes of a young Leslie ‘Hutch’ Hutchinson in his Harlem days.

The ending of the story plays fast and loose with the original plot. Rev, who represents Malvolio, has a very different fate. The reconciliations are not wholly expected by those familiar with Shakespeare’s text. In fact, in some ways, this has a more satisfactory conclusion. The feelgood factor is one that the Bard may not have sanctioned, but we endorse it, and love it. And we leave the auditorium with more than a dance in our step. “If music be the food of love, play on… Give me excess of it”. That sums it up really.

ROB AUTON: THE EYES OPEN AND SHUT SHOW

Soho Theatre

★★★½

“Auton – with the soul of a poet – is funny, self-deprecating, eager to please and brimful of hope”

ROB AUTON: THE EYES OPEN AND SHUT SHOW

Soho Theatre then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 1st February 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Rhys Rodrigues

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ROB AUTON

ROB AUTON

ROB AUTON

PLAY ON!

Lyric Hammersmith

★★★★★

“The unique quality of this musical is that each number comes with its own ever-increasing ‘wow factor’.”

PLAY ON!

Lyric Hammersmith

Reviewed on 31st January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

Previously reviewed at this venue:

PLAY ON!

PLAY ON!

PLAY ON!