★★★★

“Jack Chambers’ Mozart movingly shows every single hope, fear and regret”

Saving Mozart by Charli Eglinton bursts onto the stage, bringing Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart and his complex family dynamics to life and bang up to date. Though like Mozart’s actual career, it gets a little lost at points.

A modern musical about the man behind the mastery, Saving Mozart explores the complex relationships that challenge and drive him. The close bond with his equally prodigious sister Nannerl is shaken; his taskmaster father prioritises success and society over his children; his protective mother (spoiler alert) dies too soon; his rival Salieri both guides and gets in the way, and his ambitious wife Constanze pushes him on when all seems lost.

Eglinton’s writing injects humanity into the story, showing us the struggles and successes inside Mozart’s troubled mind. Satisfyingly, the women in his life are credited as the real reasons for his success. That said, the plot suffers from trying to do too much, charting his itinerant career and several complex relationships and exploring themes that sometimes go nowhere. Between that and a score bursting with songs, the core of the piece gets a little lost. This isn’t helped by some character inconsistencies. The father, Leopold, lacks a coherent character arc, instead flipping between unforgiving stage dad and regretful father figure. Salieri seems to go out of his way to hamper Mozart’s career before abruptly making amends. Even Nannerl, who dotes on Mozart in Act 1, sides entirely with her father in Act 2 despite him scuppering her life’s happiness. Even if this is what happened in real life it could be more nuanced, perhaps through more dialogue.

Eglinton’s score is fantastic, cleverly weaving in fragments of Mozart’s music and completely reinventing them within a very modern sound drawing on pop, rock, blues and even Michael Bublé. There are some very catchy songs, such as the virtuosic opening number ‘Remember Me’; devastating songs, such as the mother’s soulful ‘He’s Only a Child’; and high energy ensemble songs, such as ‘Stand Up Stand Down’. Though again, the score feels a little full and perhaps could be refined to create some breathing space.

Co-directed by Taylor Walker and Markus Olzinger, the piece is emotionally charged from the off. Mozart narrates his life as the only character breaking the fourth wall, drawing you into his troubled mind from the beginning. He also shadows his younger self, deepening the poignancy of these formative moments.

The cast is stunning. Jack Chambers’ Mozart movingly shows every single hope, fear and regret while delivering soaring yet raw vocals. Aimie Atkinson’s Nannerl exudes brilliance, wit, affection and frustration with equally nuanced vocals. Jordan Luke Gage’s smouldering Salieri absolutely sizzles with knowing cynicism and a voice to die for. Gloria Onitiri’s Anna Maria Mozart is devastatingly soulful. Izzie Monk absolutely holds her own as Little Mozart, with the stage presence and singing capability of a much older actor. The ensemble brings the energy and nails Walker’s choreography, executing a range of styles with precision and prowess, though would benefit from a bit more space. The musicians and musical direction by Robert Wicks are also fantastic, bringing the score to life with biting precision and virtuosic skill.

Justin Williams’ set design is modern and monochrome, with a big white ‘M’ dominating more familiar elements of the otherwise minimalist set (much like Mozart himself). Julia Pschedezki and Lucy K. Crew’s costumes bring haute couture to the stage, elevating 18th century ruffs and frills with enviable silhouettes and styles. This contrasts with 18th century style wigs and hair (Renate Harter) which are beautiful and complex. Sound design (Tom Marshall) is spot on, blending seamlessly with the score. Lighting design (Ben Jacobs) is at points as iconic as the action on stage.

Based on writing alone, I’m not sure if Saving Mozart achieves its aim; but the cast, score, choreography, design and direction more than make up for it in this sizzling, foot tapping, bass thumping musical that will make audiences fall in love with Mozart all over again.

THE WHITE CHIP

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“There is a lot of fun to be had along the way in this remarkable piece”

There’s an old joke that has been doing the rounds for quite some time now, that goes something along the lines of ‘quitting alcohol is easy… I’ve done it hundreds of times’. It is a very apt phrase for Steven, the protagonist of Sean Daniels’ profoundly autobiographical play “The White Chip”. Steven has relapsed many times; the titular ‘white chip’ is a token given to a newcomer or somebody returning to an ‘Alcoholics Anonymous’ programme, signifying the beginning of a journey towards recovery and sobriety. There’s an obvious flippancy to the above one-liner, but like many jokes it is rooted in truth. Daniels knows that the best way to get a serious message across is to dress it up in fine humour, and in this respect, his play is the epitome of style. There are many laughs that, on close inspection, are dangerously close to the bone.

Steven tasted his first beer as a pre-teen. His first sip tasted terrible. The second wasn’t so bad, and by the third his love affair with booze began. Love affair? An abusive relationship. For much of his adult life Steven is a functioning alcoholic. He graduates, he creates a successful theatre company, gets married. He is riding high. In tandem, however, his marriage is on the rocks, he distances himself from his ailing parents, he loses his job. He is plunging low. We follow Steven through various trials, witnessing his tactics to keep his destructive drinking habit secret. Ed Coleman, as Steven, gets right to the core of the character, portraying him with striking realism. It is almost impossible to see where Daniels ends and Coleman begins – writer and actor becoming one and the same. Sentimentality is abandoned as Coleman recounts his tale, for the most part addressing the audience while at other times slipping into dialogue with the many people his tumultuous life affects. Mara Allen and Ashlee Irish take on these characters with brilliant and stylised multi-rolling: colleagues, drinking buddies and, with aching poignancy, the suffering parents. Allen’s portrayal of Steven’s mother – also a recovering alcoholic – is cutting and compassionate, extremely funny and ultimately moving.

But it is Coleman, with his chiselled physicality and expert hold on the text, that commands our attention. Daniels’ writing, which has the feel of an extended monologue, resonates with shades of a more family-friendly Hunter S. Thompson. Matt Ryan directs with a masterful eye on the essence of the piece. Allan and Irish continually orbit Coleman’s central character, pulling the anchor away from this desperate character, but eventually helping him find his moorings. Lee Newby’s stark set relies on simplicity: stacked chairs like a Manhattan skyline and a roving table are all that are needed to evoke the various locations, while Jamie Platt’s lighting throws us into the shadows of Steven’s mind only to repeatedly pull us into the glaring reality of his illness with the bright, cold lights of an AA meeting hall.

We learn a lot about the backstory, the lapsed Mormon background and thwarted ambitions. We gain little understanding, however, as to the reasons for Steven’s descent into dependency. But that is the fundamental point. The most common answer to the question of ‘how did it get this far?’ is invariably ‘I don’t know’. Daniels’ play makes no claims to address this. Instead, it addresses the fall out and, more importantly, the potential for recovery. Split into two halves, the balance favours the drinking days leaving us less time to appreciate the road to recovery. But Daniels makes that road more accessible, stripping away the barbed brambles of stigma. His brutal honesty and humour destroy any sense of shame. Fundamentally a true story, it is a heartfelt confession and, in a way, a love letter to those that helped him – in particular his own mother. At a crossroads in his life, Steven (and by extension Daniels) needs to make a decision to live or die. He calls his mother who steers him from the edge, keeps him on the phone for ten whole hours, and saves his life. Even if you haven’t come close to this sort of experience you cannot fail to be moved. But if you do relate to it personally in any fashion, it is authentically powerful, deeply moving and sad, yet steeped in hope.

There is a lot of fun to be had along the way in this remarkable piece, with affectionate jibes at religion and psychobabble. There is a slight tendency towards self-satisfaction towards the closing moments, but we can overlook that. “The White Chip” is a revelation. Intimate, honest, challenging, sensitive but funny too.

SAVING MOZART

The Other Palace

★★★★

“Jack Chambers’ Mozart movingly shows every single hope, fear and regret”

SAVING MOZART

The Other Palace

Reviewed on 5th August 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Danny Kaan

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

Saving Mozart

Saving Mozart

Saving Mozart

THE WHITE CHIP

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★★★

“There is a lot of fun to be had along the way in this remarkable piece”

THE WHITE CHIP

Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 15th July 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Danny Kaan

Last ten shows reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

THE WHITE CHIP

THE WHITE CHIP

THE WHITE CHIP

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