★★★★★

“soul-stirring, celebratory and foot-tappingly uplifting”

It is sometimes extraordinary how a figure can fade into the back pages of history. Sister Rosetta Tharpe was a huge star in the 1930s and 40s, who struck a chord with a white electric guitar slung around her neck, that helped change the face of modern popular music. Yet somehow the gospel superstar ended up forgotten within her lifetime. George Brant’s impressive yet intimate portrayal will surely redress that injustice. Avoiding the epic, Brant focuses on a particular part of her life – her partnership with Gospel and R&B singer Marie Knight – and celebrates the legacy in a glorious play with music. It is a remarkable achievement in that, by pinpointing a moment in time, he still manages to give a concise and precise insight into the culture, history and background that shaped the characters. And then, of course, there is the music!

Set in a funeral parlour, a coffin laid out beneath a large wooden crucifix upstage, we are in Mississippi in 1946. “There’s rules” explains ‘Sister’ Rosetta (Beverley Knight) as she prepares her protégé and singing partner Marie Knight (Ntombizodwa Ndlovu) for their tour of the segregated Southern States (the unusual setting was the only venue that allowed the pair to rehearse). It starts out as a kind of audition for Marie, but her vocal style rapidly wins over the already established Rosetta. What ensues is the rehearsal which this show encompasses. The musical numbers slot beautifully and organically into the dialogue, sometimes stopping and starting again. The show is a conversation, a confession; a heart-to-heart that slickly builds up in momentum and passion. Like a musical ‘soul stew’ – a device coined by the late bandleader King Curtis in which a song will introduce one instrument at a time over a cycle of twelve bars until the full force bubbles into waves of musical bliss. Writer George Brant has followed a similar recipe, introducing rich details and pinches of backstory at crucial points into the dialogue. Knight and Ndlovu give faultless performances with their easy onstage rapport. When they launch into song, however, the production soars – whether the whole band accompanies, or if it is just the bluesy riffs of Liam Godwin’s piano or musical director Shirley Tetteh on guitar.

Rosetta Tharpe was renowned for her guitar playing. Decades ahead of her time she became known as the ‘Godmother of Rock and Roll’ whose influence touched countless stars including Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Little Richard. Marie was a formidable piano player as well as a singer. Neither Knight nor Ndlovu play the instruments, but director Monique Touko gets around this with clever stage craft. Ndlovu doesn’t mime but uses her whole body to evoke the inbuilt rhythm and soul of a pianist, while Knight opens a guitar case to let the notes fly out into the air. Through the staging, we get a full sense of the real-life character’s influence as she changed the face of music back in the forties, leading gospel into the world of rhythm and blues and soul. Shunned by the straitlaced church for performing in nightclubs, she persuades the ingénue Marie to follow suit. Her mission was to “put a bit of club into the church, and some church into the club” as she swung between chapel in the morning and New York’s Cotton Club at night.

The writing avoids preaching. The natural dialogue touches on personal tragedy and adversity but is steeped in humour too. Rosetta’s chipping away at Marie’s saintly exterior offers moments of biting comedy as she shapes the latter’s high church voice into the smoky jazz vibe needed for their subversive success. The song list is plucked from Rosetta’s impressive repertoire, and the combination of Knight’s and Ndlovu’s voices is gold dust that rises to the rafters. ‘This Train’, the rocking ‘Rock Me’, ‘Sit Down’, ‘I Want a Tall Skinny Papa’, ‘Strange Things are Happening Everyday’ are highlights among highlights, the glory of which is shared by the two singers. There is no competition (as in the reality), but it is a union borne of generosity and joy – and this love of the music is all too clear in the harmonies.

The poignancy of the setting (designer Lily Arnold’s shrine like funeral parlour) is emphasised in the twilight moments of the show. We slip forward in time in an ingeniously surreal twist in the narrative that derails our cosy expectations and plunges us into a moving epilogue, the emotion matched by haunting a Capella vocals. “Marie and Rosetta” is soul-stirring, celebratory and foot-tappingly uplifting. When asked about her music and its influence, Rosetta Tharpe is reported to have replied “Oh, these kids and rock and roll – this is just sped up rhythm and blues. I’ve been doing that forever”. I’m sure this show will enjoy the same longevity.

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★★

“brims with swearing, colloquialisms, double entendres, and joyful absurdity”

Nikolai Gogol’s razor-sharp satire The Government Inspector gets a bawdy and riotous reimagining in this new adaptation by Phil Porter, directed with pantomimic glee by Gregory Doran in his Chichester debut. Fuelled by farcical energy, the production is packed with verbal wit and physical comedy that rarely misses a beat.

The plot is deceptively simple: a small, corrupt provincial town panics at news that a government inspector is due to arrive incognito. When they mistake a feckless young civil servant for the feared official, chaos ensues. Enter Tom Rosenthal as Khlestakov, the supposed inspector, who quickly realises he can exploit the town’s credulous officials – a rollicking parade of grotesques, each more deluded than the last – for money, food, flattery, and more.

Rosenthal, best known for Friday Night Dinner and Plebs, brings his trademark hapless charm to Khlestakov, a delightfully louche fantasist revelling in the absurd power thrust upon him. In between extracting money, goods, and favours, he sets about seducing the Mayor’s wife (Sylvestra Le Touzel) – gloriously ridiculous, flirtatious, and determined to outshine her own daughter – and the daughter herself (Laurie Ogden), whose wide-eyed naïvety is tinged with a quiet desperation to be noticed. Ideally, he’d have both.

On first meeting Khlestakov in his sleazy accommodation, he seems somewhat subdued – especially compared with the cavalcade of comic officials who dominate early on with scene-stealing flourishes. But Rosenthal’s performance builds into a compelling piece of comic buffoonery – especially in a hilariously drunken return to the Mayor’s house after a boozy lunch. He is ably supported by Nick Haverson as Osip, his sardonic, long-suffering manservant.

Lloyd Hutchinson gives a standout performance as the morally bankrupt Mayor, his sweaty desperation rendered with delicious physicality. He’s joined by a motley crew of officials, each scrambling to ingratiate themselves and slip the impostor a few hundred roubles. There are strong comic turns throughout: Joe Dixon’s pompous Judge, whose knees keep giving way; Christopher Middleton’s cigar-fumbling Head of Schools; Oscar Pearce’s gleefully self-serving Charity Commissioner, all too happy to reveal the Mayor’s misdeeds; and Reuben Johnson’s jittery Postmaster. Miltos Yerolemou and Paul Rider are particularly entertaining as Bobchinsky and Dobchinsky – a Tweedledum-and-Tweedledee pair of nosy busybodies, obsessed with their own imagined importance.

These absurd officials are starkly contrasted with the town’s merchants, who visit the supposed inspector seeking justice, only to be swindled again. Leigh Quinn’s Sergeant’s Widow delivers a quietly devastating moment as she recounts being publicly beaten, revealing the scars on her back. It’s a grim reminder that beneath the foolery lie real-world consequences.

Porter’s script is sprightly and accessible, injecting Gogol’s 19th-century satire with contemporary irreverence. It brims with swearing, colloquialisms, double entendres, and joyful absurdity. Standout lines include Khlestakov describing the Mayor’s wife as a “randy old honey badger” and boasting he has “a pie in every finger” – playful, outrageous, and unexpectedly sharp.

The opening scene hints at something more substantial. The Mayor, pondering why St Petersburg might be sending a government inspector to their backwater, dismisses the idea of war – confidently assuring his colleagues that Russia would never be interested in such a remote place. It’s a fleeting but pointed allusion to contemporary geopolitics and a knowing nod to Gogol’s Ukrainian identity (acknowledged in the programme). While this moment garners a chuckle, such modern resonance is quickly left behind, as the production commits more fully to good-natured farce than to drawing serious parallels with 21st-century politics.

The production embraces the meta-theatricality woven into Gogol’s text. The characters’ frantic need to impress is echoed in the actors’ heightened delivery, exaggerated movement (thanks to movement director Mike Ashcroft), and frequent breaking of the fourth wall. The final “frozen tableau” – the moment of stunned silence when the real inspector is announced – is held just long enough to become hilariously awkward, prompting uneasy titters and a ripple of recognition.

Francis O’Connor’s set design captures a world teetering between grandeur and decay. The Mayor’s office-turned-drawing-room features filing cabinets bursting with paper and oversized doors that suggest delusions of grandeur. The inn’s squalid room, with its grimy skylight and claustrophobic scale, offers a stark contrast – and provides an excellent setup for a well-executed physical comedy. O’Connor’s costumes are a visual feast: lavish, absurd, and sharply attuned to each character’s vanity and social pretensions, particularly in the cases of the Mayor’s preening wife and posturing daughter.

Doran keeps the whole machine ticking with precision. The pace never flags. This is a lively and well-crafted revival that entertains with gusto. While it flirts with deeper contemporary parallels through its satirical edge, it ultimately settles for broad, enjoyable farce – and a very enjoyable one it is.

Tag Archives: Chichester Festival Theatre

MARIE AND ROSETTA

★★★★★

UK Tour

MARIE AND ROSETTA

Rose Theatre

★★★★★

“soul-stirring, celebratory and foot-tappingly uplifting”

MARIE AND ROSETTA

Rose Theatre

Reviewed on 9th May 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ANIMAL FARM | ★★★ | February 2025

NEVER LET ME GO | ★★★ | September 2024

SHOOTING HEDDA GABLER | ★★★★ | October 2023

MARIE AND ROSETTA

MARIE AND ROSETTA

MARIE AND ROSETTA

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

★★★★

Chichester Festival Theatre

THE GOVERNMENT INSPECTOR

Chichester Festival Theatre

★★★★

“brims with swearing, colloquialisms, double entendres, and joyful absurdity”