★★★★★

“an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning”

Towards the end of the first act of “Fiddler on the Roof”, the sun is gently sinking behind the trees of Regent’s Park and candlelight casts its quivering, magical glow across the stage. A lone fiddler plays the opening bars of the achingly beautiful wedding song, ‘Sunrise, Sunset’. When we reach the bittersweet and hypnotic strains of the chorus, it is as though the number was written for this very moment: for this one particular sunset shared by a thousand people beneath a clear, unifying sky. It is one of many instants that make Jordan Fein’s current staging of “Fiddler on the Roof” one to remember for a long time.

When Sholem Aleichem’s “Tevye’s Daughters: Collected Stories” was first published in Yiddish at the dawn of the twentieth century, he was praised for the naturalness of his characters’ speech and the accuracy of his portrayal of life in the Shtetels of Eastern Europe. His writings combined cheerfulness in the face of adversity with the tragedy of the fate of the societies and their traditions. He probably had no idea that it would one day spawn one of the most successful and highly acclaimed musicals. Revived many times over the half century since its premiere, never before has it reflected the true nature of Aleichem’s writing with such accuracy and sensitivity. The creative elements of Jordan Fein’s interpretation come together in an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning.

The story centres on Tevye (Adam Dannheisser), the milkman in the village of Anatevka who is trying to cling onto his Jewish traditions as the outside world encroaches upon his family’s and the villagers’ lives. Not only that, but he is also up against his rebellious and progressive daughters who question the conventions, shunning the idea of arranged marriages; choosing instead to marry for love. The highly charged yet affectionate subversiveness of his daughters, however, is nothing compared to the dark shadow of the Imperial Russian pogroms rapidly approaching.

Tom Scutt’s imaginative set looms large over the action. A wheatfield uprooted from the ground, wrenched upwards in an arc exposing the name of the village embossed deep into the earth like an indelible stamp. Times are changing but the heritage runs deep. Beneath the canopy the orchestra is visible, the ensemble cast rarely leave the stage and the leading players watch from the sidelines when not in their own scenes. The community spirit is captured before a word is spoken (or sung). Nick Lidster’s clear-cut sound lends fragility to the solo numbers alongside the power of the rousing choruses of the ensemble. Julia Cheng’s choreography conjures a series of grand tableaux, like fine art in real life animation – meticulous yet shapeshifting: the comedy of ‘The Dream’ drifting into a macabre nightmare, or the rousing joy of ‘The Wedding’ that sinks into sinister violence as the Tsar’s officers intrude.

Adam Dannheisser, as Tevye, shifts superbly between the darkness and the light. A dominant figure yet dominated by the women in his life, he brings out the inherent comedy in the script with a true glint in his eye. A standout performance, but one of many; including Lara Pulver, as his wife Golde who really pulls the strings, along with Liv Andrusier’s feisty Tzeitel and Georgia Bruce’s pocket-rocket portrayal of Hodel. These strings snap when it comes to Chava, whose desire for marriage outside the Jewish faith is a line Tevye will not cross. Hannah Bristow adds poignancy with some evocative clarinet playing, endowing her character with a significance almost as symbolic as the eponymous ‘fiddler’ (the virtuosic Raphael Papo).

The pulse of the piece is the score. Jerry Bock’s music and Sheldon Harnick’s lyrics have gained fame and familiarity over time, but the company inject fresh individuality into the songs. Full of imagery they range from intimate to anthemic, from the major to the minor, backed by the twelve-piece orchestra. The emotional impact of the music never fails to stab, and then soothe the heart, culminating in an aching finale that feels global yet is inseparable from its ethnic origins. This is musical theatre at its heartfelt best.

DARK NATURE at the Canal Café Theatre

★★★

“But Betts, in a flowing, gothic black dress, is a striking presence”

When looking back over our lives, many of us have a ‘before and after’ event lodged in our mind. Some sort of milestone which we use to place memories. Sometimes trivial, often traumatic. What happened ‘before’ remains immutable. The aftershock usually has various, ghostlike pathways as the ‘what if…?’ question echoes internally and insistently. Until we finally realise that the present – and possibly the future – is as unchangeable as the past. There are no ‘sliding doors’ we can control at our whim. Not even in fairy tales.

Michaela Betts, in her atmospheric and candidly personal musical narrative “Dark Nature, seems to have reached that point. It is not always clear how much is autobiographical truth or embellishment, but Betts doesn’t shy away from delivering some dark reminiscences. It is not always comfortable. A meandering stream of consciousness as the show weaves in and out of the realms of fantasy. So much so that it often feels like two unrelated pieces that have converged into an oddly mismatched whole.

But Betts, in a flowing, gothic black dress, is a striking presence. She delivers her story at the piano while, under her schoolmistress like gaze, Antonia Richards relives her younger self. Something happened when she was seven years old. We don’t learn the true, dark nature of this until the end; a finale we are led towards, step by step through songs of innocence and experience. Richards depicts credibly a personality trying to maintain the veneer that everything is still okay (“I was every parent’s dream”) while clearly a childhood has been stolen, and the steps into adulthood are carved in the precipice of self-destruction. As she teeters, losing balance, you almost believe the lie when she repeatedly calls out that “you can’t touch me – I feel nothing”.

Helen Goldwyn’s staging reflects this split personality. One minute ethereal, the next profanely harsh. Some beautiful projected animation draws us in while less successful attempts at audience participation push us away again. Only when Betts sings are we truly rooted. She becomes majestic at the piano, her fragile melodies accompanying her delicately beautiful voice. Unique and melancholic, her songs are dark folk tales in themselves, cinematic in scope but with the intimacy of a campfire. We are seduced but there is always a danger of being burned. No more so than during the closing number “The Rose” with its award-winning animated video projected onto the back wall. The lyrics are the blueprint for this show, the aching melody is the texture that emblazons the outline.

It is a gorgeous moment, but the progression there is uneven. Yet we learn a lot on the way, and are exposed to many important questions of abuse, grooming, body-shaming, gaslighting, coercion, addiction, self-harm, self-esteem. The narrative doesn’t so much touch on these as delivers a punch. But sometimes the swing misses, and the presentation is jarring. To her credit, Betts doesn’t try to supply the answers. “There is no judgement here”. Yet the lack of resolve is a little confusing, and the curtain call suffused with doubt, which we can see written on the performers faces. Is Little Red Riding Hood out of the woods or is the wolf still on her tail?

But “Dark Nature” is a theatrical journey worth taking, if not for Betts’ haunting presence as a singer songwriter. It is the music that truly touches, and lingers into the night. And, of course, the voice.

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning”

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewed on 6th August 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

DARK NATURE at the Canal Café Theatre

★★★

“But Betts, in a flowing, gothic black dress, is a striking presence”

DARK NATURE at the Canal Café Theatre

Reviewed on 23rd August 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ben Wulf

More Camden Fringe 2023 Reviews:

Dark Nature

Dark Nature