Tag Archives: Anthony Van Laast

STILETTO

★★★★

Charing Cross Theatre

STILETTO

Charing Cross Theatre

★★★★

“a luscious musical that intrigues and teases with, rather than pulls, our heartstring”

The first thing you notice about the new musical, “Stiletto”, is the opulence of Ceci Calf’s set. Dimly lit in the pre-show, it depicts not so much a Venetian palazzo but something more subterranean. You almost expect ripples of light, cast from the canal waters, to dapple from above. It is moody, portentous and atmospheric. The musical itself follows suit. Consistently soul-stirring, grandiose and lush, it looks and sounds exceptional. A balcony circles the stage behind its proscenium arch, like a minstrel’s gallery. In the shadows we can make out the silhouettes of the fifteen-piece orchestra. A cast of seventeen grace the stage, yet Chris Baldock’s musical staging never makes it appear crowded. From the opening dramatic bars of music, we know we are in for something grand. There is a danger that the show might take itself too seriously. A feeling, however, which soon dissipates under David Gilmore’s pacey and fresh direction.

We are in Venice in the early part of the eighteenth century. Marco Borroni (Jack Chambers) is on the cusp of stardom. He is a ‘castrato’, which means he was castrated before puberty to preserve his soprano voice. Apparently, the process not only keeps the vocals skills intact, but it also in no way diminishes his pleasure-giving prowess – as his siren-like patron, the Contessa Azurra (Kelly Hampson), seductively points out. Meanwhile Marco meets feisty Gioia (Jewelle Hutchinson), a slave’s daughter, in the market square. His lust is turned into sheer wonder when he hears her sing, and he vows to sweep her up from the gutter into his own impending rise to fame and fortune. Of course, there are snags. In this case an accidental death, an ensuing scapegoat bound for the hangman’s noose (i.e. Gioia – that’s no spoiler by the way), a corrupt judicial system, and the predictable battle between good and bad – the underdog and the powerful. Tim Luscombe’s book follows a formulaic narrative, but there is a quirkiness and modernism to the dialogue, much of which swings effortlessly in time to the musical preludes.

The plot may be a touch thin, but Matthew Wilder’s score is as ripe and succulent as they come. Wilder generously gives each major character a solo moment in the spotlight, but he also allows the full ensemble to shine throughout. This could almost be a sung-through musical and often has that feel – the underscore subtly echoing the songs. Simon Nathan’s orchestrations highlight the variations; from a quiet harp-accompanied ballad through to the full pageantry of sweeping ensemble numbers. There are many musical highlights and just as many performance highlights. Chambers, as Marco, has a natural flair, mixing innocence with passion, carnality with self-righteousness. And a voice to match – particularly when standing alone, closing the first act with a gorgeously delivered ‘The Wanting’, or lamenting the tragic figure of his tutor Faustino (a rich-toned Greg Barnett). Jennie Jacobs stands in as a masked mezzo soprano whenever Marco is called upon to demonstrate the ‘castrato’ voice. Kelly Hampson’s Contessa Azurra is a force to be reckoned with, standing up to her corrupt yet camp husband, Pietro (a wonderful Douglas Hansell). Hampson’s solo number, ‘Amore Mio’ has a bond-theme quality, but with more interesting time signatures and shifts in tone.

There are surprises, too. When Connor Wood, as the mute Niccolo, finds his voice at a crucial moment in the story we are quite taken aback by his singing voice during ‘No Words’; and Sam Barrett’s down-trodden Luigi blossoms as he turns saviour and vocal raconteur extraordinaire with his solo number ‘Go Along’. But the one to watch out for is Jewelle Hutchinson, stealing the show whenever she walks on stage as Gioia. Spirited and ballsy (ironic given her paramour’s deficiency in that department), Hutchinson lets Gioia’s vulnerability cut through as well. And all the while her rich, wide-ranged vocals pierce our hearts.

The performances bring a heightened energy to the stage that befits the setting and the storyline. Cementing the sense of period are Anna Kelsey’s glorious and flamboyant costumes. Passion is the key word for this show. And drama. Sometimes melodrama slips in which, if you’re not paying attention, can hide the flaws in the narrative. It does feel as though a trick or two is missed, and certain themes are underexplored while the finale comes a little too quickly and too forced. That frustration aside, this is a luscious musical that intrigues and teases with, rather than pulls, our heartstrings. Full of light and shade, musically as well as visually, it might not penetrate quite as deeply or cleanly as a stiletto, but it certainly gets under your skin.



STILETTO

Charing Cross Theatre

Reviewed on 31st March 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson

 

 


 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

JACK AND THE BEANSTALK: WHAT A WHOPPER! | ★★★ | November 2024
TATTOOER | ★★★ | October 2024
ONE SMALL STEP | ★★ | October 2024
MARIE CURIE | ★★★ | June 2024
BRONCO BILLY – THE MUSICAL | ★★★ | January 2024
SLEEPING BEAUTY TAKES A PRICK! | ★★★★ | November 2023
REBECCA | ★★★★ | September 2023
GEORGE TAKEI’S ALLEGIANCE | ★★★★ | January 2023
FROM HERE TO ETERNITY | ★★★★ | November 2022
THE MILK TRAIN DOESN’T STOP HERE ANYMORE | ★★★ | October 2022

STILETTO

STILETTO

STILETTO

KISS ME, KATE

★★★★

Barbican

KISS ME, KATE at the Barbican

★★★★

“This is a blazing production, burning with wit and charm, song and dance, and with a feelgood finale that is far hotter than a British summer”

We are officially in summer in a couple of days’ time, although it might not necessarily feel like it. But a couple of bars into the overture of Cole Porter’s classic, “Kiss Me, Kate” and the clouds disappear. We are instantly put in a good mood, unable to resist the warmth and the joie de vivre this sizzling and silly musical has to offer. Porter is on top form, complemented brilliantly by Sam and Bella Spewack’s book which adopts Shakespeare’s ‘play-within-a-play’ trick, taking its subterfuge to new heights.

Both ‘Taming of the Shrew’ and ‘Kiss Me, Kate’ have gathered accusations of misogyny over time, but if you look deeper, the bard and the songsmith are, in fact, championing women’s rights. And Bartlett Sher’s revival brushes off any remaining crumbs of sexism that may linger with this revival. The sheer force of the two leading ladies’ performances, of course, helps immensely.

The show opens with a curtain call. One that is being rehearsed for the opening night of ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. Fred (Adrian Dunbar), the egotistical director and producer, is starring as Petruchio while his ex-wife, Lilli (Stephanie J. Block), plays Katherine. The two bicker constantly, like Burton and Taylor on a bad day, yet Dunbar and Block effortlessly reveal the deep-seated, hidden love and affection they still hold for each other. The only casualty here is the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ dynamic – we just know from the off that they’ll eventually reconcile, despite Lilli being betrothed to a strait-laced, regimental General Harrison Howell (a delightful cameo from the underused Peter Davison).

 

 

Meanwhile Lois (Georgina Onuorah) and her gambling, misbehaving boyfriend, Bill (Charlie Stemp), are enjoying their own backstage tussles. Not least because there’s a thing going on between Lois and Fred. The shenanigans don’t stay in the green room, however, but are dragged kicking and screaming onto the stage, playing havoc with Shakespeare’s storyline. Throw in a couple of gangsters chasing a gambling debt (Hammed Animashaun and Nigel Lindsay), and the farce is complete.

It is a star-studded production, with an equally starry ensemble. Everyone has a moment to glow in the spotlight, yet nobody outshines anyone else. Each swing, and chorus member, portrays a well-defined, unspoken personality too. Anthony Van Laast’s choreography is stunning, not just visually but also in its storytelling, reaching its climax in the Act Two opener, ‘Too Darn Hot’, which elicited an ovation that finally had to be cut short by the performers themselves, worried that they might miss the last train home.

Matching the dancing skills are the vocal skills. Georgina Onuorah and Stephanie J. Block mix power with fragility, wit with emotion. Onuorah’s show-stopping ‘Always True to You in My Fashion’ is another highlight, while Block’s ‘So in Love’ is steeped in gorgeous torment. Slightly out of his depth, Adrian Dunbar reprises the number. He can hold a tune, for sure, but his vocal shortcomings do stand out against the sheer wall of virtuosity he is surrounded by. Dunbar’s own virtuosity is confined to his character acting and comic timing which is, indeed, spot on. Hammed Animashaun and Nigel Lindsay, on the other hand, are a double act with a triple threat, showcased by their superbly comic performance, and brilliant rendition of ‘Brush Up Your Shakespeare’.

Catherine Zuber’s costumes perfectly mirror the various elements of the show, mixing the eroticism of the backstage, sultry and sexy glamour with the onstage Elizabethan grandeur. Michael Yeargan’s revolving set seamlessly guides us through the stage door onto the stage, via the dressing rooms and back again. This is a blazing production, burning with wit and charm, song and dance, and with a feelgood finale that is far hotter than a British summer. While it’s definitely not too darn hot outside, inside the Barbican, it’s sizzling.

 


KISS ME, KATE at the Barbican

Reviewed on 18th June 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

LAY DOWN YOUR BURDENS | ★★★ | November 2023

KISS ME

KISS ME

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