Tag Archives: Barney Wilkinson

MARTIN GUERRE

★★★

The Old Vic

MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

★★★

“The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving”

They say that a musical is never truly finished. Any form of dramatic entertainment will change through workshops, regional runs, transfers and previews, but a musical work will often reappear years later with radical changes, cuts, additions and rewrites. Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg’s “Martin Guerre” was first staged in 1996 and has since been through many revisions. The current revival has brought Annabel Mutale and Paul Hodge on board contributing new lyrics, with the formidable director and writer Matthew Warchus lending his capable hands to reshape the material. It is a much shorter, and more pared down, theatrical performance from the creators’ most famous spectacle – ‘Les Misérables’ – but there are hints of the extravaganza it could become with the jostling crowd scenes, ensemble flag waving, dramatic orchestral sound and historical French setting (even though the accents seem to be running around the Yorkshire Moors somewhere).

Played in the round, there appears to be a lot going on. But if you pick away at the flesh, the bones of the story beneath are quite brittle. Martin Guerre is chosen for an arranged marriage to Bertrande but is bizarrely driven out of town by mob rule for failing to sleep with his wife (she doesn’t fare much better either). Martin seeks solace on the battlefield for seven years before returning to a hero’s welcome. But all is not what – or more crucially who – it seems to be. Set in the 16th century and inspired by true events, there are elements of witchcraft, lynch law, superstition and patriarchy in a male dominated society. The current iteration of the show, however, shifts more focus onto Bertrande, placing her more firmly in the spotlight. Liv Andrusier is a spirited Bertrande who seems to know much more than she is letting on. In more ways than one, the husband who returns to her seven years later is not the man he used to be, but we never really discover how complicit Bertrande is to the story’s central premise of stolen identity.

To those unfamiliar with the narrative, much of the opening twenty minutes can be bewildering and not a little confusing. Not enough time seems to be spent on building the characterisation, which makes for a less compelling experience. Sung through, some of the lyrics are lost in the mix during the ensemble numbers, yet when the lead performers break into the solo numbers, the effect is quite magnificent. ‘Someday’ is a highlight, demonstrating Andrusier’s powerful yet wistful voice. The band, under Matthew Jackson’s musical direction, drive the musical throughout at a steady pace, with elements of folk and madrigal cutting through Tom Curran’s lush orchestration.

But overall, there is little to grasp onto emotionally, despite pockets that do bring us to the edge of our seat; particularly the moment when Bertrande, presented with a ‘Sophie’s Choice’ kind of dilemma, has to decide, and prove to the court, who her husband truly is. The programme credits two of the cast (Alex James-Hatton and Shane O’Riordan) to the role of Martin Guerre, but in the course of the evening we learn otherwise. Meanwhile, Barney Wilkinson’s Guillame tries to be one step ahead as the jealous villain of the piece whereas it is, in fact, Colin Ryan’s village idiot – Benoit – who really has the answers.

The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving. Yet the dramatic and symphonic presentation doesn’t hide the fact we leave with unanswered questions. At just ninety minutes, motivation and context get short shrift. We need more individual connection and background to understand better why the villagers behave the way they do. It is gripping in its own way, but it is neither epic, nor does it quite have the intimacy of a love story. For a show that deals principally with identity, it is still in search of its own (which is the main crux of this semi-staged, preview production). With Schönberg’s quite beautiful score the solution can’t be far away. But as they say: a musical is never truly finished.


MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

Reviewed on 20th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Maybanks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

CABLE STREET

★★½

Marylebone Theatre

CABLE STREET

Marylebone Theatre

★★½

“an important story with a compelling core and an impressive cast”

After two sold out 2024 runs, ‘Cable Street’ marches back into London. Based on the Battle of Cable Street, where ordinary people stood up to antisemitism and fascism, this musical offers a timely take on community but never quite finds its rhythm.

October 1936. Fascism is rising across Europe. Oswald Mosley’s antisemitic British Union of Fascists (BUF) plans to march through London’s Jewish East End. East Enders amass in their thousands in protest, reaching boiling point at Cable Street. The crowds roar “¡No pasarán!” (“They shall not pass”) – but can they hold the line, and at what cost?

Reworked since its 2024 productions, ‘Cable Street’ has a strong core but muddled execution. Alex Kanefsky’s book distils events into three quintessentially East End perspectives – Jewish, Irish and working class British. Kanefsky sharply captures how the increasingly disenfranchised, working class Ron is drawn in by the BUF, and how anger pushes Jewish Sammy to the brink of murder, offering a clear-eyed look at human complexity. Each period of unrest cleverly shifts the communities from resistance to rupture to resolve, emphasising the message of strength through solidarity.

Other elements land less well. The wider narrative feels scattered and superficial, juggling multiple families, supporting characters, conflicts and even centuries. The shared flat scenes grow more engaging as the families interweave, but never quite land on what binds them. Even central character arcs feel loose: the Sammy-Mairead romance (briefly a triangle with Ron) fizzles out by Act 2; and Ron’s unravelling feels underdeveloped. The present day frame – opening without a strong hook, fading out in Act 2, and ending on an underwhelming note – fades alongside the far richer 1930s thread.

Adam Lenson’s direction, with associate Hetty Hodgson‍, sharpens Sammy and Ron’s inner struggles and adds real weight to the mothers’ perspectives. However, there are some puzzling choices: the Hamilton style Act 1 button feels overfamiliar, the candy coloured BUF number is tonally confusing, the Times sandwich board feels cartoonish, and the leaflet based ‘violent resistance’ feels unintentionally ironic. Several sections feel static, with sparse and sometimes simple choreography from Jevan Howard Jones‍ which makes Sammy’s fluid street dance feel a little incongruous.

Tim Gilvin’s score, supervised by Tamara Saringer and directed by Dan Glover with Bianca Fung assisting, taps into the 1930s East End’s multicultural soundscape, blending Irish folk, Klezmer, Jewish liturgy and Caribbean influences. However, it’s also crammed with contemporary styles, such as R&B, drum and bass, and a big dose of rap for Sammy, which don’t always gel. Furthermore, genres change abruptly mid song – sometimes more than once – and don’t always align with dramatic tone. However, ‘Only Words’ and ‘Stranger/Sister’ are beautiful stand out songs. The band (Elizabeth Boyce, Robyn Brown, Joel Mulley, Max Alexander-Taylor) delivers a richness that belies their small size.

Yoav Segal’s set design is striking, with the bleak, raw exterior softening into the families’ homes. Sam Waddington and Ben Jacobs’ lighting leans into these contrasts with some strikingly dramatic moments, though others could be further developed. Charlie Smith and associate Mike Woods’ sound design is initially a little imbalanced but settles. The use of effects in high stakes moments is slick and impactful. Lu Herbert’s costumes feature slick transitions between present day and 1936, and similarities between the three families reinforce the sense they’re not so different after all.

The ensemble cast is superb. Isaac Gryn is outstanding as Sammy, oozing raw emotion and irresistible charisma, with commanding vocals and assured movement. Barney Wilkinson charts Ron’s radicalisation with striking authenticity and a stunning belt. Preeya Kalidas’ Edie and Elizabeth steal the show, pairing rich, soaring vocals with gritty, raw emotion. Jez Unwin shapeshifts effortlessly between multiple characters — sometimes within seconds — delivering ‘No Words’ with richness and emotional heft. Romona Lewis Malley gives Rosa’s supporting role real dimension and sings with impeccable precision.

‘Cable Street’ tells an important story with a compelling core and an impressive cast. However, several elements need refining for the production to land with the weight it deserves.



CABLE STREET

Marylebone Theatre

Reviewed on 26th January 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Johan Persson

 

 

 

CABLE STREET

CABLE STREET

CABLE STREET