Tag Archives: Adam King

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS and THE HUMAN VOICE

★★★★

Charing Cross Theatre

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS AND THE HUMAN VOICE

Charing Cross Theatre

★★★★

“an elegant and remarkably economical production that makes the two works feel like parts of the same tragic story”

Two very different operas become a compelling portrait of one woman in this elegant double bill. Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht’s The Seven Deadly Sins follows Anna as she travels through the cities of America, earning enough money for her parents back home. In Francis Poulenc and Jean Cocteau’s The Human Voice, a woman faces the end of a love affair during a single, devastating telephone conversation. In director Alejandro Bonatto’s production, the woman at the centre of The Human Voice becomes another chapter in Anna’s story, with both roles performed by soprano Katherine McIndoe.

The decision to stage The Seven Deadly Sins without its ballet element, particularly the second Anna, inevitably reduces the sense of duality at the heart of the original conception. At the same time, it places greater emphasis on the sung narrative, with the compacted musical sequences driving the action forward. The result is less about two versions of Anna in dialogue with one another and more about following a single woman’s journey.

Continuing with the scaled-down production, Anna has only her mother, baritone Phil Wilcox, and father, tenor Harry Grigg, with the pair also taking on the roles of her lovers. Both bring a strong sense of theatricality, with Wilcox’s deliberately camp, drag-housewife quality as Anna’s mother particularly adding to the humour, while Grigg brings an equally assured presence as her father. Their performances bring out both the comedy and darker undercurrents of Anna’s journey.

The connection with The Human Voice is an imaginative one. Cocteau’s central character is simply ‘Elle’, allowing the production to make its own connection between the two women. The handwritten cards naming each sin continue into the second opera, where ‘Love’ becomes an additional ‘sin’. This was not part of the original conception of The Human Voice, but here it provides a neat dramatic link. Having sacrificed so much of herself in pursuit of money and survival, Anna has eventually staked everything that remains on one relationship. When that collapses, there is nowhere else for her to turn.

McIndoe faces an extraordinary vocal and dramatic challenge across both works. Weill demands incredible diction and enunciation, with the words cutting through the music and carrying the sharpness of the text, while Poulenc allows for a much more lyrical vocal line. The contrast moves effectively from the theatrical energy and humour of the first opera to the increasing intimacy of the second. The moment when McIndoe comes to sit on the edge of the stage is particularly effective, stripping away some of the theatricality and allowing Anna’s vulnerability to come fully to the fore. Her performance brings out the wit, humour and sensuality of the first opera, as well as the growing desperation and heartbreak of the second.

The production design is economical but expressive. Grey drapes surround the stage, with shadow work involving Anna’s parents behind the leather settee where she often performs, suggesting their ever-present influence and the world she has left behind. Two black grand pianos face each other across the rear of the stage, with percussion hidden between them until the curtain is removed later in the first opera. Anna’s sweet dress when she leaves Louisiana gives way to a silky two-piece shortie pyjama set and black negligee gown, with her jewellery charting the material rewards of her new life. For The Human Voice, the mirror, percussion and one piano disappear and the telephone emerges from beneath the sofa. The physical world has contracted, just as Anna’s life has, while the older Anna’s cream silk pyjamas create a visual link between the two works.

The musicians handle the contrasting scores with equal assurance. Adrian Salinero and Elspeth Wilkes share the piano parts in The Seven Deadly Sins, with Kepa Malgorzata providing percussion, while Wilkes takes the piano for The Human Voice, with Salinero joining for one movement on flute. Weill’s sharp-edged theatricality and rhythmic energy give way to Poulenc’s more fluid and lyrical score, reflecting the very different moods of the two operas.

Ultimately, this is more than a pairing of two very different operas. By presenting The Human Voice as another chapter in Anna’s story, Bonatto creates a portrait of a woman who spends the first part sacrificing herself in pursuit of money and survival, only to find herself with nothing left when the relationship she has staked everything on comes to an end. It is an elegant and remarkably economical production that makes the two works feel like parts of the same tragic story.



THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS AND THE HUMAN VOICE

Charing Cross Theatre

Reviewed on 12th September 2026

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Adam King


 

 

 

 

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

I WAS A TEENAGE SHE-DEVIL

★★★

The Other Palace

I WAS A TEENAGE SHE-DEVIL

The Other Palace

★★★

“Almost sung through, and brilliantly so, the musical has still to find its voice”

The rock musical, “I Was a Teenage She-Devil”, opens with a bang; and as though aware that the only way is up, it keeps the energy levels pushing the high end of the rev meter to danger point. Eighty minutes and twenty-two songs later we are a little bit breathless. The show’s protagonist claims she has been to ‘Hell and back’, but it would be a stretch for us to make a similar assertion. It really isn’t deep enough to get anywhere near the underworld.

Sean Matthew Whiteford, the one responsible for the book, music, lyrics and orchestrations, hit upon the idea fifteen years ago. Originally titled “Girlfriend from Hell” it is a mash up of eighties, horror, cult movies and high school musical. ‘Grease’ meets ‘Cruel Intentions’, with a deal with the Devil thrown in among the many other gore-infested influences. On paper it is a chaotic mess. On stage it is similarly anarchic and shambolic, yet it knows precisely its target audience and goes straight for the jugular.

The premise is wafer-thin (as are the characters). Set in an American High School, Nancy (Aoife Haakenson) is the four-eyed, nerdy wallflower ostracised by the popular kids – the jocks and the cheerleaders and the cool ones. Bullied to breaking point she cries out for help. To the rescue comes Satan (Sean Arkless) with an offer she can’t refuse. The price is her soul. Obviously. The outcome is a bit of a bloodbath. Revenge is far from sweet, but redemption is a sugar rush.

Tiffani (Caitlin Anderson) is banned from the cheerleader squad for being cruel to Nancy. Aided by her boyfriend Big Rod (Jordan Fox) she decides to humiliate Nancy. We are not sure why Nancy delves into such pits of despair – she seems to be supported by (very) close friend Debbie (Ashley Goh). But love is blind, remember, and before we can open our eyes we have to experience the darkness. We know exactly where this story is going, every step of the way. Yet it is a funny and farcical romp through the guitar-powered score and the witty dialogue, firmly rooted in the eighties. There are constant references to the movies that inform the text, many of which would go over our heads if it weren’t for video-store worker Doobie (Jacob Birch) on hand to explain the joke. Completing the line up are Todd (Louis Hearsey) and Heather (Charis Stockton).

The script, like the song list, highlights the ensemble nature of the show. The supporting characters have some of the best lines, and everyone has their solo number. All eight cast members have the vocal ability, agility and variety to scale the heights of the rock belt and also to dip into the smooth waters of the ballads (Goh, in particular, achieves this with the dynamic ‘Looking for Love’). They say the Devil has all the best tunes, but here he has to share them with his co-stars. ‘Raise Some Hell’ is exactly what it says on the tin – an ensemble piece heralding Nancy’s transformation into spiky bad girl. Arkless’ Satan is more seventies Glam, while wearing the studded jockstrap pilfered form eighties band Cameo’s lead singer. It (the song – not necessarily the jockstrap) is a highlight, bathed in smoke, red light and gleeful appreciation from the audience. We are in Rocky Horror territory at times (‘Satanic Panic’), but the bulk of the repertoire – along with the hair styles and costume – is power pop through and through.

Director and choreographer Rachel Klein has her work cut out keeping the cast within the confines of the venue’s studio space. With the audience up close, and with the abundance of severed limbs flying around, safety must be an issue. And there’s the crux. The show errs on the safe and the predictable. A superficiality, and a mildness even, that the high-octane performances can’t disguise. Almost sung through, and brilliantly so, the musical has still to find its voice. While the characters are either looking for love or revenge or blood, we are looking for the teeth that can draw that blood. It won’t raise Hell. But it is easy to swallow, and a whole lot of fun with a devilishly fine cast.



I WAS A TEENAGE SHE-DEVIL

The Other Palace

Reviewed on 8th April 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Lidia Crisafulli


 

 

 

 

I WAS A TEENAGE SHE-DEVIL

I WAS A TEENAGE SHE-DEVIL

I WAS A TEENAGE SHE-DEVIL