Tag Archives: Christopher Parkinson

MY FAIR LADY

★★★★

The Mill at Sonning

MY FAIR LADY

The Mill at Sonning

★★★★

“a wonderfully stylish presentation, and an absolute joy”

Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe’s “My Fair Lady”, the musical based on George Bernard Shaw’s 1913 play “Pygmalion”, by sheer default, could run into problems with today’s audience. The overt misogyny, magnified by the class divide, cannot be avoided without tearing up the book and starting from scratch. Joseph Pitcher’s intimate staging at the Mill at Sonning doesn’t do that. Instead, it creates an atmosphere of impending change. Set against a backdrop of Edwardian unrest, suffragette action, labour strikes and protest it gives Eliza Doolittle a solid context. The rebel in her almost cuts the puppet strings she dances to. I say almost – this adaptation still sticks faithfully to the compromises of Shaw’s (and Lerner and Loewe’s) ending.

Soundbites and snatches of modern broadcasts introduce the narrative – the Spice Girls’ declaration of Girl Power, Margaret Thatcher’s inaugural public address – before spooling back to the dawn of the twentieth century, Emmeline Pankhurst and women’s right to vote. Although this is never thoroughly followed through, it sets the tone before settling into a lavish, albeit traditional, telling of the story.

Simbi Akande, sultry yet fiery and gamine as Eliza, makes her voice heard amid the bustle of Covent Garden’s flower market. The barrow boys and buskers whirl around her with their accordions, fiddles and banjos. Backed by Nick Tudor’s four-piece band, the music (fabulously orchestrated by Charlie Ingles) is deliciously rich and varied, frequently whisking us back to the golden age of Hollywood musicals. The choreography (Joseph Pitcher and Alex Christian) is a masterclass in adapting to a limited space while appearing to be on a West End stage, while the exceptionally talented, all-singing, all-dancing ensemble flesh out the various locations with their slick and varied routines. Even the scene changes are seamlessly woven into the movement, as furniture and props waltz in and out of view, led by their leading partners.

Up close, we get a focused look at the two disparate worlds of Eliza Doolittle’s and that of the privileged, emotionally detached professor Henry Higgins. Nadim Naaman captures Higgins’ blind self-belief with authentic accuracy. Ignorant rather than innocent, he nevertheless reveals a crack in the solid wall that has imprisoned his emotions. The class divide may still be unsubtly characterised and cartoonish, but there is a chemistry between Akande and Naaman that suggests that Eliza is more than just an experiment for Higgins.

Even though we are witnessing a bygone era, the humour resonates without bruising modern sensibilities. Eliza’s early elocution lessons elicit lots of laughs. Mark Moraghan is wonderful as Eliza’s dustbin man father, willing to sell himself, and his daughter, for social advancement but horrified by his new middle-class life. His “Get Me to the Church on Time” is a musical highlight. And it is the music we are really here for, which is full of highlights. Akande is earthy yet plaintive for “Wouldn’t It Be Lovely”, and defiantly raw during “Just You Wait”. Both are reprised in Act Two with a different slant, aching and vulnerable, but still not beaten down. Alfie Blackwell, as foppish, potential love interest Freddy, gives a moving, inebriated “On the Street Where You Live”. There is a fine mix of emotion and flamboyance in all the musical numbers, with Ingles’ arrangements ingeniously punctuated with fluctuations and pauses to let the narrative shine through. The up-tempo, ensemble routines are a delight, while the slower numbers (“Without You” and “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face” especially) show us the softer, more vulnerable side to the leading characters.

There is a moment in the second act – following “You Did It”, the duet performed by Higgins and Jo Servi’s charismatic and commanding yet sympathetic Colonel Pickering – that encapsulates the mood of this interpretation of the show. Akande brilliantly conveys – partly through stillness and silence – the questions that bubble away inside Eliza Doolittle. ‘Where do I come from?’, ‘Where is my due credit?’, ‘What is my place in this world?’ are written in her eyes. This unspoken anguish adds texture to the songs and layers to the text. A shame the conclusion can’t be tweaked, though. The feminist slant doesn’t disguise the flaws. Nor does it detract, whatsoever, from the overall, understated lavishness of the production. This is a wonderfully stylish presentation, and an absolute joy. A real feast for the senses. Especially with the pre-show meal. It does make for quite a late night, though. But, hey, no matter. “I Could Have Danced All Night”.



MY FAIR LADY

The Mill at Sonning

Reviewed on 28th November 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE SHADOW IN THE MIRROR | ★★★ | September 2025
WHITE CHRISTMAS | ★★★★ | December 2024
BEDROOM FARCE | ★★★★ | August 2024
THREE MEN IN A BOAT | ★★★ | June 2024
CALENDAR GIRLS | ★★★★ | April 2024

 

 

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY

🎭 A TOP SHOW IN NOVEMBER 2024 🎭

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA

★★★★★

Dominion Theatre

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA at the Dominion Theatre

★★★★★

“Crisp, dazzling, bold and brash”

Back in 2003 a young woman was hired as a personal assistant to a very well-known editor-in-chief for ‘Vogue’ magazine. When Dame Anna Wintour (for it was she) learned that a novel (reportedly earning its author a $250,000 advance) was being published, she said “I cannot remember who that girl is”. Within months, though, the rest of the world knew very well who Lauren Weisberger was. When news reached Hollywood, the rights were snapped up and Meryl Streep stepped into Wintour’s high heeled shoes, playing the thinly disguised character of Miranda Priestly – the high-flying, ruthless head of ‘Runway’ magazine.

Fast forward a decade or two. Elton John is drafted into the empire, along with American singer, actress, model, producer, dancer, designer and overall icon Vanessa Williams. Elton’s job is to knock out a memorable and instantly recognisable score, while Vanessa has some pretty lofty stilettos to fill. It has been a long catwalk, that eventually led – via a preview summer season in Plymouth – to London’s grand Dominion Theatre. With the sheer abundance of new musicals currently opening in the West End at the moment, it needs to make a splash to stand out. But as Anna Wintour herself has famously said; “If you can’t be better than your competition, just dress better.” This musical has taken her words to heart.

“The Devil Wears Prada” is, simply put, a stunning production in every way. Crisp, dazzling, bold and brash; it invites you to wallow in the feel-good spectacle without straining to look closely for the hidden safety pins that hold it all together. For that is not the point. This is pure escapism and, as such, arrives at just the right time of the year. Let’s get the anticipated, predominant quibble out of the way first. Why a musical? It was certainly one of my questions. But the answer came quickly. Most of the dialogue is lifted from the film, and what the team have done (Kate Wetherhead’s book, Shaina Taub and Mark Sonnenblick’s lyrics and Elton John’s music) is to let the spoken word bleed seamlessly into song. There is a natural rhythm to the text, that is full of cracking soundbites, that cries out for a melody. Melodies that unmistakably come from Elton’s ivory-tickling fingers. Motifs lifted from his back catalogue ring out loud above the musical theatre bias but, hey, it is uplifting and sounds superb. The voices catapult to the rafters, even if – or perhaps due to – some of the emotion being too impassioned for its subject matter.

Despite a huge ensemble, the story revolves around a small bunch of characters. Wannabee journalist Andrea ‘Andy’ Sachs (Georgie Buckland) lands herself the job as junior PA to the savage chief of the magazine; Miranda Priestly (Vanessa Williams). Initially a square peg in a round whole, Andy undergoes a transformation that puts Olivia Newton John’s leather-clad make-over in ‘Grease’ to shame. The new look comes with greater responsibilities, extra glamour, but also a split form boyfriend Nate (Rhys Whitfield) and a realisation that she has strayed from her true path. She usurps Emily’s (Amy Di Bartolomeo) place in Miranda’s favour, gets off with writer Christian (James Darch) in Paris and unwittingly gets drawn into a back-stabbing subplot that leads the company’s art director Nigel (Matt Henry) to the sacrificial altar. It is no doubt common knowledge, and therefore no spoiler, that Andy ultimately sees the error of her ways. Buckland’s anthemic closing number, ‘What’s Right for Me’, is a pure, belting, sparkling highlight of the show.

Vanessa Williams is made for the role of Miranda. Like the show itself she refuses to take herself seriously. It’s a devil of a role but Williams captures the joy that follows in the wake of the abuse she fires at her victims. A perverse concept, but she gets it right. Her entourage are all triple threats, adept at comic timing, precision dancing and gorgeous singing. The star of the show, though, is Buckland whose Andy is both impressionable and strong. For a West End debut, she astonishingly commands the stage with ease.

It is a large stage to fill. Tim Hatley’s scenic design is a filmic masterstroke that leads us from New York to Paris and back again; weaving through dressing rooms, offices, apartments and boulevards; swooping beneath an illuminated Eifel Tower with a perspective that throws the cityscapes way beyond the back wall. And, of course, this show would never get away with skimping on the costume budget. Gregg Barnes has pulled out all the stops (aided probably by a blank cheque). Our chins are left almost scraping the floor when the jaw-dropping spectacle of the Paris Fashion Week scene closes Act One.

“The Devil Wears Prada” is sumptuously staged under Jerry Mitchell’s slick direction and choreography. Style certainly wins over content – and it is deliciously cheesy. But taken with a pinch of salt the effect is elevating, intoxicating and warming. It does exactly what it is supposed to do. Within seconds of the opening number, we cease to question or care about the artistic choices. Who cares if it comes across slightly dated at times? Or that the characters are skin deep beneath their designer outfits. The show is a glorious triumph. A devilishly good night out. Go and see it.

“Why are you still here? Go! That’s all!”


THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA at the Dominion Theatre

Reviewed on 28th November 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Matt Crockett

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE ROCKY HORROR SHOW | ★★★★ | September 2024
GREASE | ★★★★ | May 2022

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA

THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA

 

 

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