★★★★

“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”.

BRIGADOON

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★

“The music and dance are the highlights, stylishly adding extra layers of the story onto the dialogue”

Lerner and Loewe’s “Brigadoon” hasn’t been performed in London for over thirty-five years, and the word, from some quarters, seems to be that there must be a reason for this. In short, though, Drew McOnie’s magical interpretation at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre is a strong counterargument as to why it is definitely high time for a revival. Adapted and (kind of) updated by Rona Munro it almost makes sense of its impossibly whimsical narrative but, and goes along with it, creating an enchanting mix of music, dance and drama. We are swept up into the fantasy of it all, which in itself is quite a feat. It is the sort of plot that, if closely analysed, the holes picked in it would cause it to collapse completely.

The echoing sound of a big drum kicks off the evening, followed by haunting bagpipes. Basia Bińkowska’s multi-levelled, lush and heather-wrapped set merges into the park’s natural background. Two American fighter pilots appear over the brow of the hill. The romantically inclined Tommy (Louis Gaunt) is wounded while the more down-to-earth Jeff (Cavan Clarke) is rather unsuccessfully trying to get their bearings. They have literally dropped out of the sky and according to their map they appear to be nowhere. From this ‘nowhere’, however, the village of Brigadoon appears out of… well… nowhere. We have no alternate but to suspend our disbelief – the effect is quite intoxicating as we are surrounded by the glorious harmonies of the villagers. McOnie’s choreography is beautifully balletic, yet it somehow belongs to the world of Scottish reels and bagpipes too.

Brigadoon only exists for one day every one hundred years, thanks to a divine spell cast by the local minister two hundred years previously to protect it from the outside world. The townsfolk are forbidden to leave, otherwise the village would disappear forever. An outsider can only stay if they fall in love with a local, so strongly enough that they are prepared to give up everything for their love; ‘…after all, laddie, if ye love someone deeply, anythin’ is possible!’. The pilots spend pretty much all of act one unaware of this phenomenon, but when they discover it, have quite different reactions. This is very much a fairy tale, but also a love story burning away at its heart, with enough shades of darkness to prevent it from being too honey dewed.

The music and dance are the highlights, stylishly adding extra layers of the story onto the dialogue. Occasionally the movement is extraneous but always spectacular, held together by musical director Laura Bangay’s twelve-piece orchestra that mixes the traditional with the contemporary. The ensemble is just as vital as the lead players who generously never pull focus from the energy that floods the stage. Gaunt’s performance is quite believable (even if his story isn’t) in his depiction of an unwavering belief in love, that is also prone to moments of self-doubt, while Clarke’s pragmatic Jeff challenges but also accommodates his co-pilots idiosyncrasies, culminating in a deeply moving finale. The excellent Georgina Onuorah gives intensity and grace to Tommy’s love interest Fiona, while Nic Myers’ flirty Meg teases with, and confuses, Jeff with uncertain sex appeal. Jasmine Jules Andrews and Gilli Jones, as the newlyweds Jean and Charlie, are an enchanting couple. Danny Nattrass, as the tragic, lovesick Harry, matches an agile personality with a true talent for dance. Like the entire cast, the movement clearly defines the emotions and intentions of the characters.

All set against Jessica Hung Han Yun’s mystically atmospheric lighting, the evening is a delight throughout. The sumptuous score is at once familiar, yet fresh, with favourites such as ‘Almost Like Being in Love’, ‘The Love of My Life’ and ‘There but for You Go I’ sealing the message. It is a glorious tribute to the power of love. Like the unwitting co-pilots who wander into Brigadoon, we cannot fail to be moved and entertained by this production. It is unashamed escapism, but once we’re hooked, we don’t want to escape it.

MY FAIR LADY

The Mill at Sonning

★★★★

“a wonderfully stylish presentation, and an absolute joy”

MY FAIR LADY

The Mill at Sonning

Reviewed on 28th November 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

Previously reviewed at this venue:

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY

BRIGADOON

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★

“The music and dance are the highlights, stylishly adding extra layers of the story onto the dialogue”

BRIGADOON

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 12th August 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Senior

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

BRIGADOON

BRIGADOON

BRIGADOON</h3

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