Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

MOONLIGHT

★★★

UK Tour

MOONLIGHT

Eventim Apollo

★★★

“An impressive four-piece band is on hand to lift the show from its strained narrative”

The new rock musical, “Moonlight – The Philip Lynott Enigma” opens with Thin Lizzy’s erstwhile lead guitarist, Eric Bell, delivering a few reminiscences about his time with Phil Lynott. Describing him as an ‘ordinary guy, and an extraordinary guy’, the expectations in the crowd at Hammersmith’s Apollo are high, further fuelled by a teasing pre-echo of Bell’s iconic free-form guitar riffs. His presence is swiftly replaced by that of Oscar Wilde (a dandyish Riley Clark) belting out a song replete with Wildeisms. ‘A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight’. The aim, allegedly, is to place Lynott in the same bracket as Ireland’s great poets, painting him as a tragic figure who died too young.

It’s an intriguing premise. Writers John and Danielle Merrigan have set their biodrama in the mythological Tír Na BhFilí – ‘Land of the Poets’ – which, in this scenario, is an Irish pub just down the road from the Afterlife. Poet Brendan Behan (an expressively vocal Padraig O’Loingsigh) is lining up the drinks in anticipation of the new arrival. He sets the scene, bantering with pub landlord Paddy (Luke Hayden), exposition spilling like thick splashes of Guinness onto the spit-and-sawdust floor. Centre stage is a shaft of light, into which the silhouetted figure of Lynott appears. Peter M. Smith bears a striking resemblance to the Thin Lizzy frontman as he launches into an atmospheric, unplugged version of ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’.

Behan and Lynott are the focus of the show. There are flickering shades of Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ as the two look back over Lynott’s life. Again though, exposition is the order of the day as facts are served up faster than pints are pulled. Director Jason Figgis has a fascinating structure to work with, but the script – although well written and often sharply insightful – hinders by being unsure of its genre. For a musical, it is very wordy; but furthermore, for a musical about Phil Lynott, it is overwhelmed by the writers’ original compositions in favour of Thin Lizzy’s catalogue. Fans will be disappointed. The Merrigan duo seem to be trying to shoehorn their own musical into a conflicting rock gig formula.

An impressive four-piece band, led by Musical Director Larry Hogan, is on hand to lift the show from its strained narrative. A rousing rendition of ‘Jailbreak’ opens the second act, although it is more of an entr’acte before slipping back into history lesson territory. The vocal performances are magnificent, however, especially Smith who can shift from soulful introspection to rebellion in a semi-quaver. Mazz Murray, as Lynott’s mother Philomena, shines during her brief appearances but is trapped within power ballads that belong to another show. ‘What About Me?’ is a stunning performance by Murray, which segues into a duet with Smith – but it simply doesn’t belong here. Juxtaposed with rambling dialogue about ‘legacy’ and ‘poetry’, the spirit of Lynott starts to slip away. By now a decidedly one-over-the-eight Brendan Behan is starting to look as confused as the audience. It’s closing time, and Hayden’s barman is back, mopping up the platitudes and wringing them out for all they are worth, while Oscar Wilde reappears in the guise of an MT balladeer.

An encore takes the place of a curtain call. ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ is reprised with its full ‘Lizzyesque’ treatment. Eric Bell bookends the show, returning to the stage, Fender Stratocaster in hand ready for a show-stealing display of guitar riffs. ‘Whisky in the Jar’ (again a reprise) gets the audience to their feet. It’s late in the day, but the show has found its voice. The title describes Phil Lynott as an enigma, and Peter M. Smith’s powerful portrayal captures this essence. But like its subject, the show is a bit of an enigma too.



MOONLIGHT

Eventim Apollo then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 29th March 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Cormac Figgis


 

 

 

 

MOONLIGHT

MOONLIGHT

MOONLIGHT

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

★★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★★

“an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed”

Even one hundred and thirty years after his death, we still haven’t got the pronunciation of Vincent Van Gogh’s name quite right (the Americans are even further off the mark). Which is why Vincent initially introduces himself as ‘Mr Vincent’ in Nicholas Wright’s subtly evocative and brilliantly crafted play “Vincent in Brixton”. Vincent’s frustration is matched by his bewilderment at the English way of life, coupled with a desire to fit in. “I’m learning diplomatic English” he proudly proclaims. But there are other barriers too, most notably his innocent directness and tactlessness – a raw naivety that exposes secrets. This often starts him off on the wrong foot, but Dutch actor Jeroen Frank Kales paints a profoundly endearing picture of the post-impressionist painter in all his eccentricity and candour.

We are in Brixton in the 1870s, where the young Vincent has arrived to work as an art dealer for his family’s business. His heart isn’t in it (we soon learn that his heart is elsewhere) and his own latent artistic talent is still yet to be realised. He moves into the home of widowed teacher Ursula Loyer (Niamh Cusack) and her daughter, Eugenie (Ayesha Ostler). Unaware that Eugenie is secretly and romantically entangled with fellow lodger Sam Plowman (Rawaed Asde), Vincent immediately falls for her with brash inappropriateness, only to rapidly transfer his affections to her mother. It all sounds a touch callous and furtive, but the writing and the acting is so faultlessly accomplished and convincing that what unfolds is a touching story of the transforming power of love. Cusack, dressed in black and still mourning her late husband after fifteen years, shifts from melancholy to pure radiance that has our hearts beating with joy (temporarily… there are twists and reveals in the script that you need to go and find out for yourself).

The attention to detail is extraordinary. Designer Charlotte Henery’s nineteenth century lodging house is beautifully created. Take note – dine well before seeing this show; the aromas of melting butter and roasting lamb will have you salivating while a meal is prepared in real time. References to Van Gogh’s future works are ingeniously and discreetly slotted into the dialogue and the blocking (look out for the pair of boots). Wright has created an artwork in itself, which director Georgia Green has framed with an artist’s eye for perfection.

The story may or may not be true. The events are historically accurate, but the affairs are speculative, yet in this company’s hands they are convincingly real and heartfelt. Kales’ merciless honesty is lovable and hilarious in equal measure. It never takes long for him to smooth the bristles he invariably triggers in others. Ostler’s Eugenie demonstrates the right mix of disdain and affection, while Sam is unfazed by the intrusion and potential rivalry. Asde plays him with a cheeky grin and a sparkling glint in his eye, self-assured in himself but hesitant in his ambitions. The arrival of Vincent’s sister, Anna, is like a brisk wind that has crossed the North Sea. A masterstroke of casting, Amber Van Der Brugge bears a striking resemblance to Kales, along with the same unfiltered, bull-in-a-china-shop way with words, albeit more extreme and officious. Righteous and evangelistic, she drops bombshells as though cracking eggs for a light breakfast. The humour is reinforced by some of Wright’s glorious one-liners, yet we are never detracted from the heart of the story.

This heart belongs to Cusack and Kales. The dynamics seemingly unfeigned and the incongruous passion believably touching. “A woman does not grow old as long as she loves and is loved”, wrote the real Vincent in a letter to his brother. The sentiment is a leitmotif that runs through the play, but it never becomes a sentimental platitude. We are left unsure as to whether the love lasts – a symbolic, candle-snuffing cue to blackout hints at an ending – yet the feeling of joy remains long after curtain call. “Vincent in Brixton” is an exceptionally polished production, beautifully staged, superbly written and flawlessly performed. Chaotic and intimate, complex but quotidianly accessible. Biographical dramas often fail to convince in an effort to cover too much epic ground. By focusing on a snapshot, whether true to life or not, we are rewarded with a vibrant portrait of life, love and art. What more can you ask for? An unmissable show – although I regret to say that, unless you have bought your ticket already, you may have missed your chance.



VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Orange Tree Theatre

Reviewed on 20th March 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson


 

 

 

 

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

VINCENT IN BRIXTON