Tag Archives: Apollo Theatre

Cruise

Cruise

★★★★★

Apollo Theatre

CRUISE  at the Apollo Theatre

★★★★★

 

Cruise

 

“John Patrick Elliott’s live score throbs beneath the anecdotes in perfect harmony”

 

Say what you want about the pandemic (and a lot has been said), but in retrospect it is vaguely possible now to glimpse some positive repercussions. And time always has a habit of painting thick coats of nostalgia over past events, so that many of us now recall fondly those empty days of 2020, freed from the guilt that naturally accompanies inactivity, but free to explore undiscovered creativity. One individual who grasped that opportunity by the horns is Jack Holden. A ripple of an idea evolved into a stream (quite literally a live stream – and one which reshaped the burgeoning artform) which in turn evolved into the first new play to open in the West End after lockdown. Its second run comes with rumours of a feature film in development.

Two little gripes to get out the way before continuing. I reviewed the show last year at the Duchess Theatre, and little – if anything – has changed; so it would be easy just to copy and paste. But if the content remains the same, the perception has altered slightly. With the added passage of time, the second-hand nature of Holden’s writing is that much more apparent. His ingenious wordplay and gifted command of the stage remains undisputed, but these are other people’s stories. It went unnoticed before, but now there is a vague sense that the integrity, of one born too late, might be questioned.

The performance does its utmost to silence any reservations, however. The Eighties weren’t Holden’s world, but they are vividly recreated in a whirlwind ninety minutes of sight, sound, song; poetry and prose. The atmosphere and soundscape are spot on, as is Holden’s vocabulary that speaks of a Soho sadly long submerged under the waves of so-called gentrification. Holden is Jack (himself), working a decade ago at ‘Switchboard’; the LGBT+ telephone helpline. Left alone on a Saturday morning in the office he receives a call from Michael. The show becomes Michael’s story – a ‘gay veteran’ who survived, but not without the battle scars and the memories of loved ones lost on the way. We meet his saviour, the barmaid Catherine (Tabby Cat), Lady Lennox who charges just two chats a day for a year’s rent in a Soho townhouse; Fat Sandy, DJ Fingers the Mancunian nutcase, Jacob and Jason – the Nymphs of Greek Street, Polari Gordon and Slutty Dave. The fleshpots and drinking dens (most of which have been killed off, while HIV targeted many of its inhabitants) are brought to sparkling life with a sense of nostalgia that is sometimes overwhelming in Holden’s masterful retelling.

It is a portrayal that is faultless and fearless. Visually unchanging, Holden slips into each character with a finely tuned precision and incredible command of expression and accents. John Patrick Elliott’s live score throbs beneath the anecdotes in perfect harmony. Just as Holden creates the illusion of a crowded stage, Elliott is a one-man orchestra; eclectic, electric, and essential. Prema Mehta’s lighting is, indeed, another member of the cast: an equally evocative voice that helps tell the story.

It is the story of a man given a death sentence who decides to ‘go out with a bang’. Who won’t just ‘face the music’ but will play it. It is the story of a survivor. One who survived first the stigma, then the disease. “We carry on” he says. “What else can we do”. Okay, Holden may be too young for his words to carry the full weight with which they are burdened, but they certainly resonate at a time when we’re recovering from another epidemic.

“Cruise” hits hard. And plays hard too. Hedonistic joy dances with tragedy. Innocence and experience pass in the night. Holden encapsulates a lost generation without mourning it. He acknowledges his nostalgic yearning, and is ultimately grateful that he was ‘born too late’. And he does so with real respect. “Cruise” is an absolute joy. A celebration. A party not to be missed.

 

Reviewed on 17th August 2022

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

 

 

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Horrible Histories: Barmy Britain Part Four

★★★

Apollo Theatre

Horrible Histories: Barmy Britain Part Four

Horrible Histories: Barmy Britain Part Four

Apollo Theatre

Reviewed – 6th August 2019

★★★

 

“the kids fell about laughing throughout — and even the adults had a good time”

 

Summer time, and the livin’ is easy. Unless, of course, you happen to be the parent of children with school holidays. What to do with the little angels? You could do worse than gather them up and take them to Horrible Histories, Part Four, now playing at the Apollo Theatre in London’s West End. Your kids will thank you for it, although their teachers may be less enthusiastic when their pupils recount the details from writer and director Neal Foster’s quirky take on British history.

The Birmingham Stage Company, which produced this and earlier Horrible History shows, has come up with an ingenious solution to the problem of Christmas pantomime: Summer pantomime. Summer panto, it turns out, is a show that has all the elements of panto, but is cut down to touring size. It is performed by only two actors and a suggestion of a set, including lots of costumes, sing-along songs, and kid friendly sound effects. In this particular production, the show is neatly placed on the stage of the musical currently playing in the evenings at the beautiful Apollo Theatre. This is a good situation for the cast of Horrible Histories. It is also a more comfortable solution for audiences, since many summer children’s shows have tended to play outdoors, where good acoustics (and seating) are in short supply.

Horrible Histories, Part Four is a fast-paced romp through Britain’s past, starting with the unfortunate Roman Saint Alban, our first British martyr, and ending with an introduction to the night soil men. These historical snippets are sandwiched between timely references to the present state of the British body politic aimed to draw in the parents, while their kids laugh at all the fart and poo jokes. Because that is the theme that ties together the aforesaid saint, and the early sanitation workers of Victorian England. Don’t be put off by this — the kids fell about laughing throughout — and even the adults had a good time returning to a primary school mindset.

The play — if you can call it that, because it is really a bunch of anecdotes loosely strung together from “facts” of British history — is performed by Benedict Martin and Pip Chamberlin. Their athletic talents are on full display as they manage a dizzying range of male and female characters, complete with myriad costume changes and messing about with an adaptable chest that turns into everything from a Viking longship to a steam locomotive railway carriage. They are ably assisted in their endeavours by sound designer Nick Sagar, and the musical talents of Matthew Scott, who knows how to write songs for audience participation. A special shout out also to set and costume designer Jacqueline Trousdale for the perfect design solution for this kind of show, and for making everything so versatile.

Horrible Histories, Part Four has all the elements of the traditional British pantomime — audience participation, lots of singing and dancing — even the obligatory cross dressing parts. However, the lack of a coherent plot, such as that in traditional Christmas pantos like Dick Whittington will make Horrible Histories a less satisfying show overall. Nevertheless, the Horrible Histories franchise is a good way to introduce primary school children to theatre, and hopefully, they’ll want to continue this thoroughly British tradition into adulthood.

 

Reviewed by Dominica Plummer

Photography by Mark Douet

 


Horrible Histories: Barmy Britain Part Four

Apollo Theatre until 31st August

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
Operation Ouch! | ★★★★★ | December 2018

 

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