“Brooks practically steals the show with her soul-stirring “No Woman, No Cry”.
There’s a backline of oversized speakers, on which the cast and musicians sway to the beat while Bob Marley bounces downstage to take the microphone. Over the vamping, pulsating music, Marley introduces the cast members, inviting applause for each name check. We are definitely in gig territory here – not one of the oldest, most elaborate West End theatres. A sensation reinforced by the stripped back narrative that follows. The music is key. But like with Marley himself, it serves the purpose of getting the message across in ways that mere words cannot achieve.
David Albury bears a striking resemblance, physically and vocally. He is the alternate Bob Marley, but the role seems to have been written for him alone as he takes us on the journey of one of the most popular, yet most misunderstood, musicians in modern culture. Marley has achieved immortality, but some argue that his image is commercialised and diluted. “Get Up Stand Up!” gives us a glimpse of the real deal. The ghetto kid who believed in freedom. And fought for it. The convert to Rastafari. The kid sent away by his mother to Kingston for a better life. The ambassador of love, loss and redemption. The victim of an assassination attempt who headlined the ‘One Love’ Peace Concert in 1978, receiving the United Nations Peace Medal of the Third World. The cancer victim. But we also catch sight of the misogyny, the carelessness and self-absorption that affected those closest to him – namely his wife, Rita (Gabrielle Brooks), and long-term girlfriend, Cindy Breakspeare (Shanay Holmes).
The most revealing and poignant moments of the evening are provided by Brooks and Holmes. Hearing Marley’s words resonate from these two formidable women’s voices adds layers of compassion, tenderness, and bitterness. Brooks practically steals the show with her soul-stirring “No Woman, No Cry”.
Marley’s somewhat questionable attitude towards women is certainly thrown into the spotlight, and while writer Lee Hall tries to mitigate by highlighting Marley’s ‘marriage to the band’, we never really get a sense of what makes him tick. As mentioned, we do only get the broad outlines. The dialogue between the numbers does tend to assume we know so much already. But with such a wealth of material that’s probably a necessity, and it does spur us on to do our own homework. In the meantime, we can relish in the sheer energy of Clint Dyer’s production. It is a jukebox musical that never feels like one. Marley’s songs are the soundtrack to his life, so obviously make the perfect soundtrack to this sweeping panoramic vision of a visionary artist. Dyer races through the story, but occasionally stops the track to zoom in and focus on particular moments. Marley watches his younger self (brilliantly played by Maxwell Cole) leave the family home, while later on the young Marley stands by to witness his older self receive his cancer diagnosis.
These moments of unconventionality never detract from the ‘concert’ feel of the show. And, after all, it is the songs that tell the story. Shelley Maxwell’s choreography is stunning but, with an eye on a West End audience, occasionally mismatched to the material. But the roots are still there, just as Marley stayed true to his own roots even when Chris Blackwell of Island Records (Henry Faber) sensed a need to reach out to the predominantly white, British audience in the 1970s.
The set list is comprehensive, including lesser known, more lyrically challenging numbers along with the signature tunes we know and love. As the evening slows down to a plaintively acoustic “Redemption Song” we see the intoxicating mix of the gentle and the explosive that coexisted within Marley’s spirit. And his spirit is in full attendance throughout the night. The crowd can’t fail to follow the command of “Get Up Stand Up” during the rousing encore.
“Shrewdly directed by Michael Longhurst it is in equal measure clever, insightful, cruel and incisive”
“Teenage Dick” relocates ‘Richard III’ to an American High School, thus securing its place in the growing group of plays and films that have taken Shakespeare’s works four hundred years into the future, transposing the heroes and villains into modern teenagers. In writer Mike Lew’s assured hands, the translation works exceedingly well, though possibly this is mainly down to the excellent casting; particularly Daniel Monks who cuts a compelling figure as ‘Dick’ (Richard Gloucester). It is a multi-layered performance which not only matches the colourful cleverness of Lew’s script, but often surpasses it.
It centres on Richard’s plot to become president of his senior class at Roseland Junior High. Unpopular and disabled, he openly acknowledges his distorted physicality but then uses it to partly account for his crooked mind. We are on more tricky and dangerous ground than in Shakespeare’s day, but Monks depicts this internal conflict with intelligence and wit. Much has been made of Lew’s insistence that the lead characters be played by disabled actors, but one should be wary of the significance of this. Monks has hemiplegia but it doesn’t necessarily inform his depiction of the character’s darker side. There are more profound issues at stake that drag one down to the depths of villainy that his character descends into?
Monks’ performance is exceptional as he tackles the knotted weeds of self-loathing and raging ambition. Ruth Madeley, who is in a wheelchair, is also terrific as his best friend ‘Buck’ Buckingham, a kind of virtuous flipside to Dick’s burgeoning evil. With equally strong support from Siena Kelly as Anne Margaret, Susan Wokoma as Elizabeth York, Alice Hewkin as Clarissa Duke and Callum Adams as ‘Eddie’ the parallels with Shakespeare’s text apparent and quite ingeniously toyed with. The dialogue is sharp and cuttingly funny and works best in tongue-lashing mode when the actors fire their invective at each other rather than aim for sometimes long-winded introspection.
The central themes are occasionally drummed home. How much is Richard’s disability the cause of the ugliness of his actions? Shakespeare went further than this interest in just the physical, and to some extent Lew does too with his references to Machiavelli and the four pathways to power. Is it better to be loved or feared? But the mix doesn’t quite work here. Society’s fear of disability is different from Machiavelli’s conceived fear of an oppressor. It is a complex matter and one that needs more than a couple of hours of stage time to explore; particularly if you still want to entertain the audience.
If you play down the over analysis of the intentions, “Teenage Dick” is a quite stunning modern-day interpretation of Shakespeare’s villainous Richard of Gloucester. Shrewdly directed by Michael Longhurst it is in equal measure clever, insightful, cruel and incisive, with performances that do clearly entertain as much as they provoke debate.
