★★★★

“A bittersweet tale succinctly expressed and elegantly performed”

Noël Coward’s “Still Life” was first presented in 1936 at the Phoenix Theatre, starring the writer himself alongside Gertrude Lawrence. Although one-act plays were unfashionable at the time, Coward was a particular fan of the genre so, in 1935, he conceived the idea of a set of short plays to run in repertory under the umbrella title “Tonight at 8.30”. Most people, of course, know the story through David Lean’s full-length feature film “Brief Encounter”. A romantic drama that portrays the chance meeting, ensuing love affair and ultimate leave-taking of a doctor and a married woman. It’s not a happy ending and is one of Coward’s more serious undertakings.

The sadness and seriousness of the lead couple’s secret affair, however, is offset by lighter moments courtesy of the other characters that populate the refreshment room of Milford Junction railway station. The current production, directed by Tam Williams, brings these contrasts to the fore with a remarkable, site-specific staging in the grand saloon of Theatre Royal Drury Lane. Despite it being a touch more opulent than Milford Junction, it is an ideal setting. The audience are seated at the tables (carriages) that surround the central bar, becoming ‘extras’ to the action while taking afternoon tea. The station café is run by Myrtle (Elizabeth Elvin) who spends most of the time flirtatiously fending off the amorous attentions of ticket-inspector Albert (Antony Jardine). Waiting for her train is Laura (Rachel Pickup) who, when she gets a bit of coaldust in her eye, provides the prefect cue for physician Alec (Alasdair Craig) to come to the rescue. A series of five vignettes charts the course of their romance over the subsequent year.

The sparks that fly don’t ever light up the sky, but the subdued, Englishness of the courtship is its essential charm. Both Pickup and Craig are masters of the understatement. Pickup is steeped in dignity and composure while Craig’s contained matter-of-factness betrays his profession and consequent social interactions. The emotion fizzes beneath this decent and proper veneer and eventually, when they seem to be about to break through, it is all just too late. Elvin’s Myrtle is playful but down to earth, tolerating with unfettered affection Jardine’s frisky station master. Meanwhile, there is Seren Sandham-Davies as Beryl who never fails to add to the delightful dynamics (Jardine and Sandham-Davies also double up – demonstrating a striking versatility – as other colourful characters).

Music is a pivotal part of the production, with Jardine switching from banjo to guitar, and Sandham-Davies linking the scenes at the piano. Frequently bursting into song, they never break out of character – it’s what these café workers do to pass the time of day. The hustle bustle of the station whirls around us like a delicate gale, the eye of which contains the stillness of Laura and Alec’s story. Theirs is a still life, but unseen currents are raging under the surface. The climax is upon us all too soon, and it lands with a sadness. Laura wants to follow her heart, but the unfortunate arrival of Dolly, her busy-body friend (Elvin) delays her, and offstage we hear the sound of Alec’s train departing one final time.

The setting is lavish, but the high ceilings of the salon are a challenge to the acoustics. Words are sometimes lost and aurally we occasionally lose sense of the location. But the cast rise above it, refusing to let the emotional richness go amiss. A bittersweet tale succinctly expressed and elegantly performed. There is no back story, and some of the side story (glimpses of Laura’s home life, for example) is passed over. But we get all we need from the characterisation. And we get more that we need on the tiered cake stands that are brought to the tables. Tea and sympathy – an English cliché perhaps, but the perfect combination in this case.

THE THREEPENNY OPERA at the Cockpit Theatre

★★★

“A promising opening, that isn’t quite sustained throughout.”

We walk into the ‘Factory of Plays’. A kind of warped bandstand sits centre stage, with mannequin torsos circling it; grotesque and absurdist, some attached to rope like an umbilical cord. Or a hangman’s noose. The front rows of the auditorium are littered with musical instruments. An accordion, trombone, trumpet, cello, clarinet. A banjo here, a Hawaiian guitar there. The space feels abandoned as though some frenetic activity has been interrupted. The truncated figures, like a troupe of mute Frankenstein’s creatures, waiting to be brought back to life. Enter two inventors, in white lab coats, followed by a cast of actor musicians in high-vis jackets.

This is the premise behind the OVO Theatre’s interpretation of the Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill ‘play with music’. Translated by Robert David MacDonald (dialogue) and Jeremy Sams (lyrics), it adopts many ‘Brechtian’ characteristics. There is no fourth wall whatsoever here as we witness the action being created in front of us. Characters step out of the narrative to talk to us. A phone is borrowed, a beer bottle grabbed and swigged from (oh, how far we have thankfully moved on from the specious sensitivities of the pandemic), scenes are interrupted by metallic tones and bizarre announcements. We are never quite sure where we are. There is something Orwellian. Dystopian. Yet grounded in present day politics. A Clockwork Orange meets Boys from the Blackstuff. A promising opening, that isn’t quite sustained throughout.

Macheath appears, chimera-like from within a cage to the strains of his signature tune. It is uncertain whether he is being created or born. He emerges savvy and streetwise, but with a menace that is too soft at the edges. Peter Watts is clearly enjoying the role, initially channelling Harold Steptoe but then allowing his natural charisma steers him into more dangerous territory. However, the sense of true danger is never quite realised in Adam Nichols’ staging. He allows the slapstick to overshadow nuance.

“Musically it is spot on”

Mark Carlisle’s Peachum has a gravitas as Macheath’s nemesis, aided by Annette Yeo’s feisty Mrs Peachum. Their tentative hold over the beggars of London is challenged when their daughter Polly (Emily Panes) marries Macheath. Panes dresses Polly in innocence – a veil that is easily torn by Macheath’s unscrupulous womanising, allowing her to reveal the dormant steeliness. Panes has one of the stronger singing voices. Although the cast comprises an all singing, all playing company, they don’t always meet the musical challenges. Harmonies and tuning are further loosened by conductor Lada Valešová constantly ducking and diving, like an itinerant beggar, around the playing space. Song introductions suffer from a slight delay while she locates the various musicians, and vice versa. This stop-start stodginess permeates much of the first act, and it is only after interval that the flow finds its true course.

Musically it is spot on, avoiding the pitfalls of some modern interpretations of jollifying the compositions. And Brecht’s intentions are duly honoured. The absurdity is in plain sight and the surrealism defies theatrical convention. But rather than neatly slotting into the narrative, frustratingly some choices are just a touch too bizarre and random, and we disengage as our understanding gets muddied. Nearly a hundred years ago when it opened in Berlin, the work was a radical critique of the capitalist world. It is indeed just as relevant today, and doesn’t necessarily need modern anachronisms, especially ones as clumsy as slipping in references to William and Kate into the libretto, or offhand allusions to Boris Johnson. The themes are more universal than that and Brecht and Weill deserve more respect.

What cannot be avoided is the original disjointed ending, which this production does manage to pull off cohesively and with an emotional commitment that makes sense of the satire. This is largely due to Watts’ performance, his rendition of ‘Call from the Grave’ one of the highlights. Society hasn’t really changed much since “The Threepenny Opera” first premiered. The moral messages are just as raw. OVO’s interpretation retains that rawness – and the genuine grit, even if it doesn’t always grip.

Tag Archives: Emily Panes

STILL LIFE

★★★★

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

STILL LIFE

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

★★★★

“A bittersweet tale succinctly expressed and elegantly performed”

STILL LIFE

Theatre Royal Drury Lane

Reviewed on 7th September 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Andreas Lambis

STILL LIFE

STILL LIFE

STILL LIFE

The Threepenny Opera

★★★

Cockpit Theatre

THE THREEPENNY OPERA at the Cockpit Theatre

★★★

“A promising opening, that isn’t quite sustained throughout.”

“Musically it is spot on”