★★★★

“Tragedy and farce link arms and are not afraid to share the same lines of dialogue.”

Although Alan Bleasdale wrote the original series of television plays before Margaret Thatcher came to power, it wasn’t first broadcast until 1982 and was consequently seen to be a specific critique of the Thatcher era. His writing, though, had a far more wide-ranging effect that guaranteed the success of the stories. The nostalgic and gritty realism still holds power nearly half a century later, as evidenced by James Graham’s stirring adaptation for the stage, currently on a nationwide tour.

The early nineteen-eighties were different things for different people. At one end of the scale there were the rich and ambitious, riding on progress and the jetstream of new money. But while Harry Enfield parodied this selfishness of the yuppie culture (we all remember the ‘Loadsamoney’ character?), Bleasdale was focusing on the underside; the high unemployment and collapse of the primary industries. “Boys form the Blackstuff” follows five working class men trying to keep afloat amid this recession, not helped by the suspicious and bullying hand of the Department of Employment.

Amy Jane Cook’s brutalist and severe set evokes the Liverpool docklands with its iron frameworks which close in on the more intimate scenes, lending an air of claustrophobia to the domestic bickering that runs parallel to the collective fight for survival that these characters are up against. Kate Wasserberg’s stylish direction weaves the short scenes together into a series of choreographed vignettes that flow, then clash like freshwater rapids coming up against the murkiness and remorselessness of the Mersey.

We get to know the principal characters early on (if we don’t know them already). Chrissie, Loggo, Yosser, George, Dixie and Snowy. Even if you are unfamiliar with the original, and once you’ve acclimatised to the authentic Liverpudlian accent, their stories are easy to follow. The performances of each cast member are strikingly individual and recognisable. Obviously, Jay Johnson’s ‘Yosser’ stands out from the crowd with his peppered catchphrases (‘gizza job’ and ‘I could do that’) and jittery, unpredictable energy. We realise that this could be a play about mental health – a sudden understanding that whisks the narrative into the present day but without the unease of having to tread carefully through contemporary fragility. Words of wisdom, particularly from Ged McKenna’s wonderfully uneducated yet perfectly erudite ‘George’, are never lost in the humour. We laugh through this show just as much as we gasp at the personal hardships endured.

The pace picks up in the second act, even as the scenes get longer and more introspective. The humour and pathos join forces in monologue. Tragedy and farce link arms and are not afraid to share the same lines of dialogue. A funeral scene, as poignant as they come, bleeds brilliantly into the comedy of a dole queue. An anguished wife (a superb Sian Polhill-Thomas) wondering how to feed her children is, in the next scene, an acerbically grim clerk at the jobcentre. But under the lights, each character casts shadow of hope. Even if the shades aren’t subtle, it is the contrast of light and dark that bring this show alive.

We might not have admitted this in the eighties, but these ‘boys’ feel emasculated, fragile and desperate for hope. The writing is sensitive beyond its years, and in Graham’s revival we can carouse in the period without having to make excuses for it. Despite being geographically and culturally specific, it is universal. And despite being rooted in a particular decade, it is timeless. The stories of ordinary people, told in an extraordinary production.

THE BOWIE SHOW

Golder’s Green Hippodrome

★★★★

“Innovative, brave, inventive, theatrical, yet authentic”

When Brett Morgen’s documentary film, “Moonage Daydream”, burst onto the silver screen back in 2022, it was heralded as being ‘groundbreaking’, and a ‘glorious celebratory montage’. A ‘sensory voyage’. During the opening moments of Simon Gwilliam’s “The Bowie Show” we feel we could have wandered into the live, stage version of the film. Immediately our senses our flooded. The cinematic drama unfolds, alien and shapeshifting yet instantly recognisable and emotionally charged. Countdown has commenced, and from the moment Sian Crowe’s husky vocals launch ‘Space Oddity’ into the atmosphere, we get a hint of what we are in for.

Tribute is not the same as impersonation, and Gwilliam has held onto this concept. ‘People don’t want a recital; they want a show’ as Bowie himself has said. This is ‘the freakiest show’ – authentic, imperfect, and steeped in kooky originality. Interestingly the publicity blurb repeatedly emphasises that the show is not authorised or endorsed by the Estate of David Bowie. No doubt a legal caveat. This company have stretched to breaking point the limits to what they can get away with. But pushing boundaries is what it’s all about.

With the exception of the show’s finale, the set list is pretty much rooted in the seventies and first half of the eighties; Bowie’s most prolific and influential years. The on-stage five-piece band deliver chillingly accurate versions of the music for many of the numbers, while others are wonderfully reimagined and reorchestrated. As the smooth mellotron strings fade from ‘Space Oddity’ we drift into a prog-rock, psychedelic ‘Oh, You Pretty Things’. We move swiftly into ‘Changes’, then a searing ‘Ziggy Stardust’ during which the dancers each wear era-defining costumes worthy of the V & A archives. Elsewhere, Rebecca Martin’s costume design (with Cathy Kelly and Erin Holden) emulates and exaggerates the pivotal moments of Bowie’s own sartorial journey with a playfulness and quirky inventiveness. The attention to detail, often missed if you blink, runs deep. References, some explicit and some ingeniously subtle, are also lurking at every turn in Sophie Quay’s brilliantly eclectic choreography, Billy Gwilliam’s panoramic, juddering, kaleidoscopic, cosmic, urban, brutal, swooping video design, and the overall collective styling of the show. An outstanding example is the grotesque, pirouetting doll during ‘Rebel Rebel’ accompanied by a projected backdrop of cracked mannequins joining in the chorus.

A troupe of eight dancers (including Quay) do justice to the choreography and costume. Beautifully synchronised, and each given a solo moment. ‘Jean Genie’ shows off the angular dexterity of Jordan Boury, a standout dancer whose movements are as precise as the backbeat, yet as eccentric as the experimental chord changes Bowie’s music sometimes follow. It is going to be impossible to mention every dancer, and every musical number. ‘Starman’, with its clever nod to ‘The Man Who Fell to Earth’ neatly segues into ‘Moonage Daydream’, during which Laura Browne’s guitar is uncannily reminiscent of the late, great Mick Ronson. ‘Life on Mars’ opens with a toy piano riff before its soaring crescendo. Each song encapsulates the moment, not by imitation but by illustration. The singers only occasionally sound like Bowie. They certainly don’t look like him. Sian Crowe, Elliot Rose and Greg Oliver are sometimes a bit lost in the mix but when they cut through, they mix their own character in with the iconic Bowie-esque timbre. Crowe passionately claims ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Suicide’ for her own.

‘The Bowie Show’ is undoubtedly a concert, which leads to a few awkward silences between the music. These are occasionally filled with voiceover, soundscape or visuals. When the spoken lyrics from ‘We Are the Dead’ bleed into ‘Ashes to Ashes’ we realise we want more of this. But once fully immersed in the music again, we forgive and forget. The hits of the eighties are rolled out, from ‘Scary Monsters’ to ‘Let’s Dance’, until we skip two or three decades.

The closing moments drift from homage to eulogy. ‘Blackstar’, Bowie’s cryptic farewell message to the world, is beautifully performed, followed by an aching and dark ‘Lazarus’. Of course, ‘Heroes’ serves as an encore (ah, wondered when that one was coming). It has been quite a journey. An impossible journey given that Bowie’s output could never be condensed into a mere two hours. But “The Bowie Show” has curated a well-balanced cross section. The integration of music and visuals is quite meticulous. The show may not have been endorsed by the Estate – but it could be. And should be. With the artistic curbs lifted this show could be boundless. But already it is a vibrant spectacle. Innovative, brave, inventive, theatrical, yet authentic. It’s the freakiest show, yes, but a triumph of ‘Sound and Vision’.

BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★★

“Tragedy and farce link arms and are not afraid to share the same lines of dialogue.”

BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF

Theatre Royal Windsor then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 29th January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Alistair Muir

Previously reviewed at this venue:

BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF

BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF

BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF

THE BOWIE SHOW

Golder’s Green Hippodrome

★★★★

“Innovative, brave, inventive, theatrical, yet authentic”

THE BOWIE SHOW

UK Tour

Reviewed on 14th January 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Recently reviewed by Joe:

THE BOWIE SHOW

THE BOWIE SHOW

THE BOWIE SHOW