Tag Archives: John Faal

RUTH THE MUSICAL

★★★

Wilton’s Music Hall

RUTH THE MUSICAL

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★

“The score, though, is an eclectic delight with vocal performances that are quite magical”

A few years ago, one might have been thrown off balance by the prospect of a musical about a convicted murderer and the last woman to be hanged in the United Kingdom. But it is a sign of the times that, in an age where no subject matter escapes the songfest treatment, barely an eyebrow is raised. But that hasn’t curbed the curiosity and anticipation that has surrounded “Ruth: The Musical”; the story of Ruth Ellis who shot and killed her violent, upper-class lover. A story of love, death, obsession, sex, jealousy and murder.

Ruth Ellis’ life has been covered in film and TV, but this stage adaptation goes a step further with its quest to empathise with her. It is a tall order which will surely provoke debate, but it adds contrasting and dramatic layers to a character who is chiefly recognised by mugshots and newspaper headlines. It is these headlines that open the show, projected onto the back wall of the atmospheric Wilton’s Music Hall stage, as dry ice snakes its way out of the wings, followed by the cast, silhouetted against the monochrome backdrop. We are in film noir territory, enhanced by an emotive and powerful ensemble opening number.

Written by Caroline Slocock and co-composed by John Cameron, Francis Rockliff and James Reader, it features Ruth at three stages of her life. ‘Cell Ruth’ (Bibi Simpson) is the first we meet. Ben Bull’s video design evocatively suggest the stark prison cell in which Ruth sits in conversation with Pierrepoint (a wonderfully down to earth yet mysterious Ian Puleston-Davies), one of the prison staff, whose specific job description I have to resist giving away. Between them they are looking back over Ruth’s life. Simpson cuts a hypnotic figure while her affected upper-class accent cleanly slices the muddy acoustics of the hall. The bulk of the story is portrayed in flashback by Hannah Traylen as ‘Past Ruth’, the nightclub ‘hostess’, surrounded by her lovers, colleagues and cohorts. Tagged onto the narrative is the appearance of ‘Young Ruth’ (Me-Li Yap) which seeks, less successfully, to demonstrate the abuse she received at the hands of her father.

Under the co-direction of Andy Morahan and Denise Silvey, the staging is beautifully executed (excuse the pun). Full of split levels and split scenes, the transitions from pre to post murder are seamless. The fact we already know the outcome heightens the poignancy of Ruth’s earlier struggles as she tries to make her way in the male-dominant, class-conscious society she has chosen. Traylen’s ‘Past Ruth’ is as equally a tragic figure as her resigned older self, but with more defiance. The story focuses on her chaste relationship with the devoted Desmond (John Faal) and the intense love affair with posh but penniless racing driver, David Blakely (Connor Payne). The stakes are somewhat low, however, and although the bullets may fly, the sparks never leave the ground. Payne’s ill-fated Blakely is uninspiring, stripping away any belief we might have in the fatal attraction he is supposed to ignite in Ruth. Much of the dialogue is delivered on one level and the emotional peaks invariably feel unearned.

The musical numbers, likewise, appear unearned at times. The score, though, is an eclectic delight (especially in the first act) with vocal performances that are quite magical. Late night jazz rubs shoulders with soulful ballads and rousing ensemble chorales; with a surreal comedy number thrown in to break up the seriousness of the courtroom scene. John Cameron’s filmic and sultry arrangements complement the narrative in what is more of a play with music rather than a musical. There is an undeniable glossy sheen to the show which only hints at the darkness beneath. We would like a more dangerous and grittier illustration that digs deeper. There is a quite crucial reveal for example, in the lead up to Ruth’s hanging, that could have been expanded upon. Otherwise, the elements are all present – the blonde femme fatale, the violent hard-drinking lover, the smoking pistol, the trial and the execution – even if the passion and the shock value elude us. Although not to die for, it is definitely a show to keep in one’s sights. The aim is right – it hasn’t quite reached the target yet.



RUTH THE MUSICAL

Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 19th March 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Charlie Flint


 

 

 

 

RUTH THE MUSICAL

RUTH THE MUSICAL

RUTH THE MUSICAL

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY: THE MUSICAL

★★★★

Arcola Theatre

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY: THE MUSICAL

Arcola Theatre

★★★★

“brimming with passion and sincerity”

How do you reconcile such differing temperaments as Jane Austen’s Elinor and Marianne? Ledwell Productions does exactly this in ‘Sense & Sensibility, The Musical’, blending opera with musical theatre in a fresh new take.

Based on Austen’s novel ‘Sense and Sensibility’, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood don’t have it easy. Their father dies; they lose their income; sensible Elinor’s blossoming romance with the bashful Edward Ferrars is cut short; the Dashwoods relocate to Devonshire to live near their cousins, the Middletons. Luckily the Middletons take pity and introduce them to the brooding Colonel Brandon, who sets his cap at Marianne. But Marianne’s a hopeless romantic and when the charismatic Mr Willoughby sweeps her off her feet (literally), passions ignite… until scandal and illness trigger an abrupt change of course.

Produced by Elora Ledger with book and lyrics by Jeffrey Haddow, music by Neal Hampton and musical direction by Guy Murgatroyd, ‘Sense & Sensibility, The Musical’ blends musical theatre and opera, doing both surprisingly well. The songs have a familiar structure and feel while the delivery is classical. It may seem an odd choice but it evokes the period perfectly while drawing modern audiences in. The deliciously complex score is another high point, mixing up keys, metres and tempos to convey the exact mood each moment requires.

It’s tightly written with a slimmed down plot driving the narrative and emotional development forward. The clever and sparing use of song to reveal hidden desires without diminishing decorum is particularly satisfying. The only slight stall occurs in Act 2 when Edward sings before the sisters’ moment of mutual realisation, the latter of which feels a little rushed. That said, the book is delightfully funny with some unexpectedly self-aware moments.

Alexandra Cowell’s direction shows off the cast’s range, each person playing multiple characters. That said, some of the choices are a little odd. Marianne endures her illness on the floor, the cast singing towards her rather than out. The ensemble numbers feel a little remote with stiff choreography, face obscuring masks and flat characterisations. Willoughby (meant to be 25) and Sir John (meant to be 40) are played by the same person. The multiple roles necessitate frequent quick changes, some of which are more successful than others. Although minor individually, collectively these points erode some of the realism.

The set (Dream of Eclectic Chic) successfully evokes various Regency drawing rooms though is a little sparse – Marianne could do with a couch for example. The costumes (Ledger) use beautiful fabrics and styles though the minimalist set draws the eye to things like sleeves falling down and less successful quick changes. The lighting design is a bit basic, steeping the room in purple at dramatic moments but otherwise missing several chances to heighten dramatic tension. The sound design makes successful use of effects, though microphones could avoid the dialogue being drowned out by music at points.

The cast is fantastic, with Rachael Liddell’s Elinor, Ledger’s Marianne, and the chemistry between them particular highlights. Liddell is a masterclass in acting through song, showing every facet of Elinor’s character with a stunning mezzo soprano voice. Marianne’s effervescent naivety is at such odds with Lucy Steele’s withering condescension you almost forget Ledger plays both. Ledger also keeps Marianne endearingly relatable despite her emotional outbursts and even shows off some effortless soprano coloratura. Cowell contrasts her exuberant Mrs Jennings/Dashwood with taciturn Fanny/Miss Grey and a beautiful high soprano voice. The skilful musicians (Daryl Giuliano, Felicity Broome-Skelton, and Murgatroyd) are a delight, filling the room with rich sound.

If you like musical theatre but are less sure about opera, ‘Sense & Sensibility, The Musical’ brings out the best of both in this masterful union. Much like our heroines, it is brimming with passion and sincerity even if it could use a little refinement in places. Don’t miss your chance to see it, lest like Willoughby you regret what might have been.



SENSE AND SENSIBILITY: THE MUSICAL

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 19th August 2025

by Hannah Bothelton


 

Recent reviews from this venue:

JANE EYRE | ★★★★★ | August 2025
CLIVE | ★★★ | August 2025
THE RECKONING | ★★★★ | June 2025
IN OTHER WORDS | ★★★★ | May 2025
HEISENBERG | ★★★ | April 2025
CRY-BABY, THE MUSICAL | ★★★★★ | March 2025
THE DOUBLE ACT | ★★★★★ | January 2025
TARANTULA | ★★★★ | January 2025

 

 

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY

SENSE AND SENSIBILITY