Tag Archives: Jamie Platt

MY FAIR LADY

★★★★

The Mill at Sonning

MY FAIR LADY

The Mill at Sonning

★★★★

“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”.



MY FAIR LADY

The Mill at Sonning

Reviewed on 28th November 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE SHADOW IN THE MIRROR | ★★★ | September 2025
WHITE CHRISTMAS | ★★★★ | December 2024
BEDROOM FARCE | ★★★★ | August 2024
THREE MEN IN A BOAT | ★★★ | June 2024
CALENDAR GIRLS | ★★★★ | April 2024

 

 

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY

MY FAIR LADY

RAGDOLL

★★★★

Jermyn Street Theatre

RAGDOLL

Jermyn Street Theatre

★★★★

“a highly watchable cast, delivering line after line of snappy dialogue”

Katherine Moar’s “Ragdoll” is inspired by the trial of Patty Hearst – the heiress turned actress, kidnapped by the Symbionese Liberation Army in the 1970s who was later convicted of working with them and being charged for armed robbery. Her defence lawyer, Francis Lee Bailey, lost the case despite putting forward the fact that she was coerced into it by her captors. Although the names have been changed, there is little to separate the fictional characters from the real-life ones (even the SLA is namedropped). So ‘inspired by’ is probably an understatement. The disguise is a very thin veil. There is no disguising at all, however, the sharpness of Moar’s writing in her thoughtful, thought-provoking, ingeniously structured and punchy new play.

The narrative is split between two pivotal points in the lives of our protagonists. In the late seventies, Holly (Katie Matsell) is awaiting trial for her role in the armed robberies. Her hotshot lawyer, Robert (Ben Lamb) sees it as a case to project his career into the major league. There is a lot of media attention, some of it unwanted and unwarranted. Robert has his own distractions, too, mainly in the shape of a hack journalist out to smear his name. We first meet the couple in the present day. They are estranged by now, but Robert (Nathaniel Parker) is calling in a favour from Holly (Abigail Cruttenden), hoping she can bear witness to his character and help clear him of allegations of an ‘inappropriate nature’. Holly is naturally resentful – having been ghosted and abandoned by Robert decades earlier. We are aghast at Robert’s confidence that borders on arrogance. Tensions and stakes are high, and emotions rise even higher, tempered by moments during which Moar leads us gently into ‘odd-couple’ comedy territory.

We never drift into familiar territory, however. Even if sometimes we think we might be heading that way. Whenever that happens, Moar repeatedly sticks the knife in with a twist, forcing us to look at things in a different way. The two time periods are separated, until further twists reveal how great and significant the overlap is between past and present. A fascinating dramatic device is at play here, which the cast pull off masterfully.

The characters are undoubtedly privileged but are played with a compassion that arouses our sympathy. Matsell’s nervous idealism as the younger Holly turns into the fury and resignation that Cruttenden portrays with a bubbling, volcanic strength. Lamb, as the rising star of the courtroom, hasn’t yet had his smooth confidence worn away by the knocks to his career, while Parker’s present-day Robert, however, clings onto this self-conviction by a thread. They are both victims in a way. Victims of changing times and attitudes as much as circumstance. “If I had died, people would like me more” quips Holly in retrospect, thankfully without sentimentality. Josh Seymour directs with a tight hand on the oscillating structure: the actors watching their other selves, engaging and reacting. Ceci Calf’s simple set, strewn with packing cases, is dominated by an expensive, cream leather sofa, rich in symbolism.

This is only Moar’s second play, but the dialogue has a veteran’s finely-honed shrewdness and insight, offering peep holes into social history as well as the human condition. Its context is specific, but the questions raised are far reaching. With a highly watchable cast, delivering line after line of snappy dialogue, “Ragdoll” is an absolute joy to watch. We barely have time to think about what we are supposed to be thinking about – there’s time to do that on the tube journey home. We know, though, that we have been in the presence of a writing talent to keep an eye out for.

 

RAGDOLL

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed on 14th October 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Alex Brenner


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

EXTRAORDINARY WOMEN | ★★★★★ | July 2025
LITTLE BROTHER | ★★★ | May 2025
OUTLYING ISLANDS | ★★★★ | February 2025
THE MAIDS | ★★★ | January 2025
NAPOLEON: UN PETIT PANTOMIME | ★★★★ | November 2024
EURYDICE | ★★ | October 2024
LAUGHING BOY | ★★★ | May 2024
THE LONELY LONDONERS | ★★★★ | March 2024
TWO ROUNDS | ★★★ | February 2024
THE BEAUTIFUL FUTURE IS COMING | ★★★★ | January 2024

 

 

RAGDOLL

RAGDOLL

RAGDOLL