Tag Archives: Elexi Walker

MARY AND THE HYENAS

★★★

Wilton’s Music Hall

MARY AND THE HYENAS

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★

“an eye-catching tribute to millions of devalued female lives”

Animal spirits are roused, and a proto-feminist movement born, amid blood and viscera, in Mary and the Hyenas, a raucous musical re-telling of the short but impactful life of Mary Wollenstonecraft, the 18th century philosopher, writer and radical.

She died, aged 38, following complications giving birth to the girl who would grow up to write Frankenstein, and the show gives Mary the 10 days between birth and death to educate her daughter on how to be a woman in a hostile world.

The dilemma is this: give them the freedom to think and risk a life of restraint and frustration; or let them be ignorant and perhaps content with marriage and childcare.

Mother Mary inevitably chooses the former path – and sets about educating not only her own daughters but every daughter everywhere, riling the patriarchy no end and filling girls’ heads with discomforting notions of self-fulfilment and equality.

Rock chick Mary is brought to vivid life in a tour-de-force performance by Laura Elsworthy, tear-stained, pink-haired, sharp-elbowed and forever with a rebel yell on her lips. She presents Mary not as an invulnerable ideologue, but a woman susceptible to the very traps and manipulations she sees with such clarity elsewhere.

She lives and loves outrageously, and to her very great cost.

Elsworthy is supported by a five-strong backing group – Ainy Medina, Beth Crame, Elexi Walker, Kat Johns-Burke, Kate Hampson – who rise to meet the demands of a very physical production. They are forever scaling designer Sara Perks’ mountainous and boxy set, or donning hats, aprons, glasses, accents etc to create a full cast of characters. In between they belt out songs by Tor Maries (Billy Nomates).

It is a pity that the songs fail to ignite despite all the huffing and puffing on the embers. The shouty affirmations seem to be in search of a melody and the cold Human League style electro-pop doesn’t assist, draining the numbers of emotional connection. The lyrics are symptomatic of the production’s greatest failing. The sloganeering, however well meaning, is an easy go-to, filling the gaps when the story-telling flags. It is a call-and-response of diminishing returns.

Beyond the committed cast, the strengths of director Esther Richardson’s over busy but colourful production lie in the depiction of women conditioned to become little more than ornaments and brood mares. Humour is the most effective weapon in writer Marueen Lennon’s arsenal. She pricks the preening pomposity of the male intelligentsia who view Mary as an oddity to be treated warily and at arm’s length. The audience responds warmly to these infrequent sprigs of wry lampooning and crave more of the same.

(“I won’t be able to apply myself with a husband,’ says one would-be anatomist. “I bet they get in the way.”)

Mary and the Hyenas is an eye-catching tribute to millions of devalued female lives – and to one of endless significance.



MARY AND THE HYENAS

Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 20th March 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Tom Arran


Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE MAGIC FLUTE | ★★★★ | February 2025
POTTED PANTO | ★★★★★ | December 2024
THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE | ★★★★ | October 2024
THE GIANT KILLERS | ★★★★ | June 2024
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM | ★★★★★ | April 2024
POTTED PANTO | ★★★★★ | December 2023
FEAST | ★★★½ | September 2023
I WISH MY LIFE WERE LIKE A MUSICAL | ★★★★★ | August 2023
EXPRESS G&S | ★★★★ | August 2023
THE MIKADO | ★★★★ | June 2023

 

MARY AND THE HYENAS

MARY AND THE HYENAS

MARY AND THE HYENAS

Robin Hood

Robin Hood: The Legend. Re-Written

★★

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

ROBIN HOOD: THE LEGEND. RE-WRITTEN at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★

Robin Hood

“The performances are uniformly strong, joyful, silly and skilful”

 

Everyone has their own favourite image of Robin Hood, whether it be Kevin Costner, Jason Connery, Russell Crowe (really?); or the Disney rendition. Or a camp pantomime outlaw in green tights. Carl Grose has taken three of those archetypes and has them gate-crash his alternative – and quite eccentric – version of the legend. The device is an embodiment of the quirky humour that, unlike the sleight of hand archery skills on display, often misses its target.

Part of the problem is that nobody, including Grose, seems to know where the target is. You can’t see the wood for the trees in this overgrown Sherwood Forest where tangled brambles of offbeat ideas lie in wait like thorny catch weed. You don’t need to wade too far in to get lost. Or frustrated enough to want to turn back. Tax collectors in hi vis jackets delight at relieving commoners of their bow fingers. Fingers which, no less, end up in a casket the sheriff keeps hidden away, occasionally lifting the lid to allow the dismembered digits to prophesise to him in squeaky voices. We are in a pretty slaughterous world where scarlet blood puddles and muddles the greenery. Where fact, fiction, myth and legend collide at the whim of an insurgent history teacher on acid.

The opening moments are magical, the scene set by the Balladeer (Nandi Bhebhe; velvet voiced and spellbinding). The landscape is borrowed from Jez Butterworth’s ‘Jerusalem’ as the mystical atmosphere swiftly morphs into a kind of ‘state of the nation’ play. “Who owns England?”, the downtrodden ask. Sheriff Baldwyn (a commanding performance from Alex Mugnaioni) keeps the King in a permanent state of befuddlement by spiking his tea in order to have free reign to be as dastardly as can be. Paul Hunter’s portrayal of the king is a masterclass in comic buffoonery, while still conveying that this hapless monarch knows much more than he is letting on.

Chiara Stephenson’s split-level set crudely separates the two classes, but there is plenty of social mobility. Not least the sheriff’s grog-guzzling wife, Marian (Ellen Robertson – in fine, playful form). We are never quite sure of her motives, but her disdain of, and possibly guilt over, her privilege drives her to extremes of disguise, the likes of which would be far too big a spoiler to reveal here. An ensemble troupe of Merry Men (excuse the Olde Worlde gender reference) create the required mayhem to subvert the established order. Apparently, it all started with a plan to build a new road, putting much of the forest at risk. A rather throwaway shuffle onto the environmentalist bandwagon, but I guess Grose felt the need.

The performances are uniformly strong, joyful, silly and skilful. It must have been a task, but director Melly Still guides the company through the mayhem with a steady hand. For the most part. At interval, the lawns are littered with bemused expressions heading for solace at the bar. It is short lived. The second act gets jaw-droppingly bizarre as we become lost in a sea of abdications, beheadings and resurrections. In the spirit of true farce, some ends are tied up, but no matter how hard we try the disjointed fragments of this production never really meet in our minds. The theatrical trickery has to be admired (Ira Mandela Siobhan is compelling as the conjuring but doomed villain, Gisburne) but the overall journey is unnavigated. Lost in the forest, left to make it up as it goes along.

As the sun sets and a crescent moon hangs above Regent’s Park, we file out into the night wondering if what we have just seen really did come from the same writer who penned “Dead Dog in a Suitcase” and “The Grinning Man”. The tagline in the PR blurb pronounces “Think you know the story of Robin Hood? Think again!”. It promises revelation, but the question remains the same as we leave the theatre.

 

Reviewed on 23rd June 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

Once On This Island | ★★★★ | May 2023
Legally Blonde | ★★★ | May 2022
Romeo and Juliet | ★★★½ | June 2021

 

Click here to read all our latest reviews