Tag Archives: Charles Flint

The Secret Garden

★★★★

Theatre at the Tabard

THE SECRET GARDEN at Theatre at the Tabard

★★★★

“above all the show is a heart-warming tale where the messages do not overpower in the slightest”

Let us step back in time. It doesn’t have to be a century. Two or three decades will just about do. If you’re old enough, you will be looking through tinted glasses at a misremembered landscape strewn with innocent pastimes and simple pleasures, unencumbered by material covetousness and technological hunger. We are all familiar with those platitudinal posts on social media that compare and contrast ‘then-and-now’ childhoods. Or invite us to ‘name one thing you could bring back from (choose your decade here) that doesn’t exist anymore’. It is all a game, but at heart we all, at one point or another, seek out the comfort of nostalgia. Well, here’s a short cut for you: the current ‘Theatre at the Tabard’ production of “The Secret Garden” will take you straight there.

Without succumbing to any festive trappings, Simon Reilly’s seasonal offering, adapted by Louise Haddington from Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic novel, opens like an Edwardian Christmas card. Old fashioned, but not dated. The heart is in the story telling, the humour and the message. The premise might be quite unfamiliar to most twenty-first century children, but this interpretation makes the characters’ situations instantly understandable. At its core is Mary Lennox, the orphaned girl sent to live in the imposing Yorkshire country manor, the home of her reclusive uncle. Daisy Rae captures well the initial wide-eyed alarm at the unfamiliar. Initially a cantankerous old woman trapped inside a young girl’s body, we forgive her ways as we witness her learning and rejuvenating. Rae generously relinquishes lead role status, allowing as much importance to be attached to the others. Most notably Jordan Rising, as the young Dickon, who nurtures Mary, who in turn nurtures and helps heal Sam McHale’s quirky Colin – her bed ridden cousin. Life is austere, but not devoid of devotion and kindness. Mari Luz Cervantes, as Martha the maid, demonstrates a winning tolerance that blossoms into friendship. A companionship shared by Freya Alderson’s housekeeper, Mrs Medlock, albeit from a respectful distance.

Reilly teases little nuances from his cast that add an extra layer to the personalities. Mrs Medlock occasionally, almost subconsciously, pats Mary like a rescue-dog. Rae’s subtle expression of bewilderment when she utters the word ‘thank you’ for the first time. When Mary meets her uncle Archibald for the first time, we are quite moved by the suppressed emotion. A touch too young for the role perhaps, Richard Lounds still manages to convey a reserved gravitas that barely conceals the grief he still feels ten years after losing his wife. Lounds doubles as the gardener, Ben Weatherstaff, for which he is more suited.

It is a story of healing. Gentle. A slow burner, lit by embers rather than fire. As Mary slowly thaws, we are kept warm. The show is well aware of its audience and plays to it, pushing no boundaries but blossoming within its own confines, like the eponymous Secret Garden itself. Simple devices shift the action from the manor’s interior out into the garden, underscored by Nick Gilbert’s suggestive music. Hazel Owen’s design matches the modesty but delivers a remarkable, show-stopping reveal. Complemented by Nat Green’s lighting, a fairy-tale sprinkling of magic lays a sheen on what could potentially be a dusty tale.

The feelgood factor crawls its way under our skin, and once there it stays. Burnett’s messages are timeless, and in this interpretation, they are a celebration rather than a sneer. The housekeeper declares that children should not be ‘looked after too much’. They need ‘fresh air and liberty’. A poetic echo of our modern-day soapbox reprovals. But above all the show is a heart-warming tale where the messages do not overpower in the slightest. Instead, they are camouflaged within the entertainment. It is simple magic. And it is simply magic.

 

THE SECRET GARDEN at Theatre at the Tabard

Reviewed on 13th December 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Charles Flint

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

About Bill | ★★★★★ | August 2023

The Secret Garden<

The Secret Garden<

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Sorry We Didn't Die At Sea

Sorry we Didn’t Die at Sea

★★½

Park Theatre

SORRY WE DIDN’T DIE AT SEA at the Park Theatre

★★½

Sorry We Didn't Die At Sea

“There are moments of excellence … but in the end the story just doesn’t quite hold”

Sorry We Didn’t Die at Sea, directed by Daniel Emery, is a surreal satire about the perils of people-smuggling. Set in a near-future, Europe’s economy has collapsed and three English citizens place their trust in a human trafficker, setting off to an unknown destination in his brand-new shipping container.

While there’s the obvious social commentary – what if Europeans were the ones arriving illegally on foreign shores, desperate for help – on the whole this is more about the dynamics of an unlikely trio forced to rely on each other in order to survive.

The setting consists of a three-sided red curtain. It serves both as the walls for the shipping container and as a backdrop to the smuggler’s surreal barker-like digressions in which he educates the audience on random bits of information he’s picked up from the internet on these long, boring journeys: pasta recipes, the etymology of “empathy”, the history of the shipping container. Felix Garcia Guyer, playing the smuggler, or as he’s known in the programme, “The Burly One”, is, as with the rest of the characters, a caricature of a person. But his combination of intimidating ruffian and bizarrely well-informed lunatic brings an unknown element to the otherwise fairly plodding plot.

Marco Young’s “The Stocky One”, escaping from a serious conviction, is off-set by Will Bishop’s “The Tall One”, a clueless toff. And as the only woman on stage, Yasmine Haller is, predictably, “The Beautiful One”.

The story of human trafficking gone wrong is a major one, and it’s easy to see why writer Emanuele Aldrovandi would whittle it down to these archetypal characters, but it results in the story losing its way somewhat. It’s hard to know what we’re supposed to take away from it and on top of that, after 95 minutes straight through, the ending simply trails off.

There are moments of excellence, and the conversations around what one is willing to do to survive are genuinely brutal, but in the end the story just doesn’t quite hold.

SORRY WE DIDN’T DIE AT SEA at the Park Theatre

Reviewed on 14th September 2023

by Miriam Sallon

Photography by Charles Flint


 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

The Garden Of Words | ★★★ | August 2023
Bones | ★★★★ | July 2023
Paper Cut | ★★½ | June 2023
Leaves of Glass | ★★★★ | May 2023
The Beach House | ★★★ | February 2023
Winner’s Curse | ★★★★ | February 2023
The Elephant Song | ★★★★ | January 2023
Rumpelstiltskin | ★★★★★ | December 2022
Wickies | ★★★ | December 2022
Pickle | ★★★ | November 2022

Sorry we Didn’t Die at Sea

Sorry we Didn’t Die at Sea

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