Tag Archives: Ceci Calf

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

FARM HALL

★★★★

Theatre Royal Haymarket

FARM HALL at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★★

“a fascinating reconstruction of what might have been said”

Last year’s Jermyn Street Theatre production of Katherine Moar’s cerebral play journeys the short distance down Haymarket to take up residence at the majestic Theatre Royal.

The title Farm Hall takes its name from the real Cambridgeshire country residence in which a number of Germany’s top physicists are imprisoned at the end of the war and where their every word is recorded and scrutinised. The play is a fascinating reconstruction of what might have been said and how such a collection of brilliant men may have behaved. With the central character of Werner Heisenberg in common, Moar’s fascinating first play invites comparison with Michael Frayn’s brilliant Copenhagen.

The action is set entirely in Farm Hall’s downstairs drawing room; a room that first appears luscious with antique mahogany furniture, polished floorboards, and a Persian rug in front of the open fireplace, until one’s eyes are drawn to the damp on the walls and the peeling wallpaper (Designer Ceci Calf). Everything is softly lit (Lighting Designer Ben Ormerod) exuding a gentle period feel.

The six scientists, impeccably dressed in suits and ties, sit and stand around. It transpires they are rehearsing a scene from Noel Coward’s Blithe Spirit just to fill the time. Later, we’ll see them reading, or playing chess or backgammon. One scientist amusingly sulks because they haven’t got Monopoly. There is surprisingly little talk about science. Director Stephen Unwin skilfully moves the six men around the room without ever hurrying the pace or making the room appear overcrowded.

At first it appears that the dashing Weizsäcker (Daniel Boyd) is the group’s ringleader, controlling the group’s activities and its conversation, and then Von Laue (David Yelland, delightfully plummy) as the senior scientist. Like a group of public-school boys, they fantasise about pretty girls, there are petty rivalries, even some slight bullying of the generally disliked Diebner (Julius D’Silva) – the lone experimental physicist amongst a majority of theoreticals. The empathic Hahn (Forbes Masson) tries to see that everyone gets along and Bagge (Archie Backhouse) prickles that he has the most of all to fear for the future. The six actors are all excellent, the dialogue flows and we are drawn in, fascinated by their individual stories.

And then the tone changes, a large shadow is cast over the gathering as the Americans drop the first atomic bomb. Each man reacts differently, Heisenberg (a mightily impressive Alan Cox) simply won’t believe it. Hahn is inconsolable and hints at suicide. And the conversation turns from games to something more serious. Did they really intend to create a bomb for the Nazis or did they just pretend to? Heisenberg ambiguously admits that both could be true and as the group collect their suitcases on their eventual release they are now asking themselves the impossible question: What is truth? And that is one question too big for any short play to answer.

 


FARM HALL at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

Reviewed on 13th August 2024

by Phillip Money

Photography by Alex Brenner

 

 


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HEATHERS | ★★★ | July 2021

Farm Hall

Farm Hall

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