Tag Archives: Abi Davies

Plaid Tidings
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Bridge House Theatre

Plaid Tidings

Plaid Tidings

Bridge House Theatre

Reviewed – 1st December 2018

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“For all its narrative flaws, it would take a stonier heart than mine to resist this dose of festive cheer and performance by a talented cast”

 

First things first: the vocal skills on display in this show are great. So great in fact, they unfortunately serve to highlight an at times baffling plot.

The Plaids are a sixties close harmony group who, in the Forever Plaid musical which precedes this, lose their lives in a tragic accident but return to earth to seek stardom. This instalment sees them again travel from the firmament to regale us with festive delights because … well, a convincing reason is elusive.

This doesn’t really matter, but it also becomes apparent that it’s the Plaids’ lifelong ambition to have their own Christmas TV special. This is one of several indications of a critical challenge for audiences: a Pacific-sized gap in cultural reference which is hard to traverse. For American viewers for whom the annual variety show is a central part of the holidays, this would make more sense.

The central premise, then, feels weaker than a melting icicle. But the musical performances are great fun; we find ourselves hankering for the next song during dialogue expounding the curious narrative. Lines are delivered with sometimes excessively earnest if admirable gusto, and one or two of the accents are America by way of the UK. In such a small venue, the brio (and later, the handbells) can border on the overpowering.

The studio space, above a great-looking pub, does allow for the full benefit of the music, especially in the fun a cappella Sha-Boom (Life Could Be A Dream). Musical Director Laurie Denman on the piano as well as voice is especially cracking, with a rendition of Kiss of Fire bringing comedic physicality into the slower first half. Later, β€˜Twuz Tha Nite B4 Xmas introduces a welcome slice of funk to cut through the saccharine and It’s Beginning To Look Like Christmas has us swaying. Passing mention must be made of fact that during the music and movement, the noisy stage surface becomes an occasional distraction.

Plaid Tidings first came about in a California theatre following the bleakness of 9/11. Arguably, we’re again in dire need of an injection of gentle fun. But Pasadena in 2001 is a long way from contemporary London, and some of the clumsier elements are at odds in the diverse south of the capital. There is an uneasiness in affecting the required Jamaican accent (β€˜she take ma money and go Christmas shopping’) during one audience singalong. The group wisely limit the Caribbean affectation, but what remains jars today. Equally, the group’s apparent horror when they find themselves under the mistletoe is lazy; is the idea of men kissing really so shocking in 2018?

The evening closes with a collective rendition of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. The audience applauds enthusiastically. For all its narrative flaws, it would take a stonier heart than mine to resist this dose of festive cheer and performance by a talented cast.

 

Reviewed by Abi Davies

Photography by Jamie Scott-Smith

 

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Plaid Tidings

Bridge House Theatre until 23rd December

 

Other shows reviewed by Abi Davies:

 

The Archive of Educated Hearts | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2018
Fanatical – the Musical | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2018
Burke & Hare | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2018

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com

 

Burke & Hare
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Jermyn Street Theatre

Burke & Hare

Burke & Hare

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed – 30th November 2018

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“A quiet night in the West End this is not. And quite right too. For what could be more festive than death, deceit and intrigue?”

 

Messrs William Burke and Hare have passed into mythology as notorious grave robbers who turned a profit in 1820s Scotland flogging corpses to medical schools. Tom Wentworth’s comic script revisits their tale, claiming to be an β€˜objective’ rendering, β€˜rooted firmly in reality’. But those seeking an authoritative retelling of Burke and Hare’s story need not apply. This is history played for laughs – a mission very successfully achieved.

Indeed, there’s frank admission of the history’s slipperiness throughout. The opening scene sees the actors in and out of character, clamouring to rehabilitate the reputations of their respective roles. This also serves as a handy introduction to this micro-cast of three.

Such lean staffing certainly leaves nowhere to hide, but this strong ensemble pull it off. Impeccable comic timing delivers laugh-out-loud moments, with Alex Parry and Hayden Wood especially effective as the dastardly duo.

Also strong, Katy Daghorn as, well, almost everyone else, at times comes off a touch mannered. As with all the actors here, her ready command of accents is impressive but her physicality can feel awkward. This is a small niggle, though, given the dexterity shown by this apparently tireless trio in what must be an exhausting performance.

The cast canter through a merry repertoire of Victorian Edinburgh’s finest. Indeed, real fun is had with the limits of a three-person cast in a confined space. One gag sees the cast stumped when they realise that, all on stage, they are without a corpse. Considerable charm is applied by Wood and a conscript found: sit on the front row at your peril.

This quip wears thinner in an extended sequence in the second half, but Parry’s shattering performance of every member of an extended family group is nonetheless impressive. This retold joke, though, perhaps eats into time that might have been better spent unravelling the tail-end of the narrative a little more; the conclusion is upon us with little warning and the outcome of the eventual criminal trial feels rushed.

Every resource is put to work to create atmosphere and place in this tiny theatre. This includes intelligent uses of music and sound, such as the metronome set ticking as we wait for yet another lodger to shuffle off this mortal coil. Mention must also be made of the cast’s really beautifully executed close harmonies, from drinking songs to ballads. Lighting, too, is neat, variously suggesting the fug of an Edinburgh street, a sterile anatomy lecture hall and the snug boarding house amongst others.

All in all, Burke and Hare offers surprising levels of merriment for a play about resurrection men. There is balance here – we’re given real menace leading up to and pathos at the death of one key player – but the night rattles along at a fair pace. A quiet night in the West End this is not. And quite right too. For what could be more festive than death, deceit and intrigue?

 

Reviewed by Abi Davies

Photography by Philip Tull

 


Burke & Hare

Jermyn Street Theatre until 21st December

 

Our review of the original Watermill production:
Burke & Hare | Watermill Theatre | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2018

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Woman Before a Glass | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2018
Mad as Hell | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2018
The Dog Beneath the Skin | β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2018
Tonight at 8.30 | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2018
Tomorrow at Noon | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2018
Stitchers | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | June 2018
The Play About my Dad | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2018
Hymn to Love | β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2018

 

Click here to see more of our latest reviews on thespyinthestalls.com