★★★★

“a magnificent and terrible thing to watch”

Darkness descends into the carefree life of teenager Toni with such unexpected force that breath drains from her lungs. Then ours. Ever after in this heart-wrecking drama, we struggle to regain balance.

Because, by the time this trauma strikes, young Toni has become our friend. Theoretically, the teen – self-deprecating, romantic, smart – occupies the theatre space alone for 90 minutes, but such is her boundless joy at the prospect of a budding romance that we quickly become her BFFs. What should I wear? What about this? Or this? What should I say? Aren’t his eyelashes just the loveliest?

The mechanics of a crush are awkward so she’s eager to crowdsource some insight.

The romance is almost too perfect as first loves must be. They plan a life together over their first shared milkshake. She will be a writer, he will take pictures. They hold hands. Brush arms. The individual kisses merge into one swelling super-kiss…

But the title of the play is Tarantula. The playwright is master weaver Philip Ridley. Nothing can be as straightforwardly simple as snogging by moonlight.

Something’s coming. Darkness is coming. The clue is in the moments of fugue state when Toni mentions her prospect’s name – Michael. Is she lovestruck? Or something-else-struck?
We soon find out.

You cannot take your eyes off Georgie Henley, who plays Toni. She won’t let you. As the naive schoolgirl, she is mercurial and giddy and all the things a girl can and should be. She dares you not to delight in her. Later, that same thrill is transmuted by her experience into something forced and manic. She is the same but different. The same but shrill. She challenges you to spot the artifice of her carefully constructed veneer of uber-glee.

Under Wiebke Green’s direction, the trauma that visits Toni is physical. It stalks her endlessly and then – in a quite astonishing and visceral way – it occupies her. She struggles to breathe. She is paralysed. She is felled. She remembers.

This parasitical body snatcher is a composite of unresolved pain and guilt and grief. Because one version of Toni died that day – the bright Oxford-bound lover of books and do-gooding school clubs – and this uncanny valley version took her place. What’s left is a too-keen gym bunny who urgently wants to be the hero of everybody’s tale.

To achieve this transformation, Ridley’s script is full of character, heart and keen detail. His lusty appetite for story, the darker the better, help to create a topical slice of gothic horror lightened by moments of utmost tenderness. It is perhaps 10 minutes too long, especially in the later stages, but accomplished, nevertheless.

For all the cleverness, laughter and texture in the script, it is the sinister contortions of Georgie Henley that will stick in the memory. Especially that manic dead-eyed smile, reminiscent of the innocent we met at the start of the evening but now fixed and crazed as Toni is compelled to make stand after stand against the dark tyranny of her memories.

This is a story about second chances when second chances are the last resort. To illustrate this, Georgie Henley destroys us with the scale of her loss. Her performance is courageous and raw. It is a magnificent and terrible thing to watch.

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★½

“a lively and enjoyable take on a beloved operetta”

Donna Stirrup’s new production of The Pirates of Penzance offers a fresh perspective on Gilbert and Sullivan’s beloved operetta. Produced by Pirates (Penzance) Ltd in association with Tarantara Productions Ltd, this staging features a nearly 50-strong company of singers and musicians, delivering Sullivan’s intricate score and Gilbert’s witty wordplay with remarkable energy. The result is a polished rendition that retains much of the charm of the original work, though it occasionally stumbles in its attempt to innovate.

Stirrup’s decision to move the action from the late 19th century to 1919 raises intriguing questions. In the programme, she asks, “Do pirates always have to be done with frilly shirts and bandanas?” The answer here is definitively no. Laura Jane Stanfield’s costume design is more Peaky Blinders than Pirates of the Caribbean, dressing the Pirate King in a sharply cut three-piece suit, while his crew sport muted, earthy tones and chunky wool jumpers. Flat caps abound, and the occasional eye patch or hook appear as self-styled accessories, markers of their identity as “pirates.” This aesthetic repositioning casts the pirates as post-WWI figures—perhaps damaged soldiers or opportunistic profiteers—adding an intriguing layer to the story of Frederic, a young man caught between duty to his former comrades and his newfound love.

Frederic, having completed his accidental apprenticeship with the pirates, resolves to leave their company and lead an honest life. He soon falls for Mabel, one of the daughters of the eccentric Major General. However, his freedom is short-lived when he learns he was born on 29 February, meaning he is still bound to the pirates for another 60 years. This revelation sets the stage for a playful mix of romance, comedy, and farcical twists, leading to a light-hearted resolution.

While the concept of the pirates as post-war figures is intriguing, it remains underexplored. Conductor Martin Handley hints in the programme that the pirates are “damaged goods,” scarred by their experiences, but this idea is not fully developed in the performances or direction. As a result, the pirates’ motivations and back stories feel ambiguous, making the post-war context feel more like a stylistic choice than a fully realised reinterpretation.

The performances, however, bring energy and charisma to the stage. Jonathan Eyers commands attention as the Pirate King, his rich baritone lending gravitas to the role. Guy Elliott’s Frederic is earnest and engaging, his bespectacled appearance suggesting more Oxbridge graduate than indentured pirate. Sioned Gwen Davies makes a striking Ruth, the woman who raised Frederic, opening the show slumped in a battered leather chair, smoking and drinking. Dressed in luxurious black and green velvet, with bold patterns and in one scene a dramatic hat adorned with feathers and a parrot’s head, she exudes both grit and a touch of flamboyance.

Ellie Laugharne’s Mabel brings emotional depth and vocal clarity to the role, particularly in ‘Poor Wand’ring One,’ which she performs with a delightful sense of parody. Presented as bookish and in mourning, she is contrasted by her more frivolous sisters, whose demeanour (and costuming) provide a light-hearted foil. Barry Clark’s Major General is a comedic highlight, delivering the iconic ‘I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General’ with gusto. Dressed in a red-and-white striped bathing suit, Union Jack socks, and brown sandals, his struggles with a deckchair add to the hilarity. The bumbling police force also provides plenty of laughs in their numbers ‘Tarantara’ and ‘A Policeman’s Lot Is Not a Happy One,’ with their antics, including the relief of removing their boots and sharing a chocolate bar, bringing additional levity.

Stanfield’s minimalist set design supports the action effectively, with a raised wooden pontoon doubling as a pirate ship, a Cornish beach, and the Major General’s (bought) ancestral home. Simple backdrops—a ship’s sail, a ‘Welcome to Penzance’ train poster, and a Union Jack—help establish the various settings. The orchestra, visible behind the backdrops, performs with vibrancy and sensitivity under Handley’s baton, allowing Sullivan’s score to shine without overpowering the singers.

While some of the wordplay may be lost, either through enunciation or the theatre’s acoustics, the vocal performances are exemplary, and the staging is inventive. The reimagining of the time setting, though interesting, doesn’t fully explore the post-war themes, yet the production still delivers plenty of humour, energy, and exceptional musicality. Ultimately, this Pirates of Penzance is a lively and enjoyable take on a beloved operetta, with spirited performances that make for a thoroughly delightful night out.

TARANTULA

Arcola Theatre

★★★★

“a magnificent and terrible thing to watch”

TARANTULA

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 10th January 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Kate Hockenhull

Previously reviewed at this venue:

TARANTULA

TARANTULA

TARANTULA

THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★½

“a lively and enjoyable take on a beloved operetta”