★★★★

“The sheer joy that gushes from the stage, like blood from a jugular, soaks us to the skin”

A caveat: if you try to fathom out what could be the link between Bram Stoker’s vampire classic, “Dracula”, and the world of a Capella singing, well – there isn’t one. Nor is there, particularly, a connection between the original novel and comedy. But Jez Bond and Dan Patterson – the co-writers of “Dracapella” – have plucked out of thin air a way to blend them together, throwing into the mix the art of beatboxing. It sounds illogical. It could be chaos. It may well be construed as a gimmick. However, the end result is an ingenious reinterpretation of the story: relentlessly funny, extremely silly, exceptionally clever, and punctuated by some very fine vocal performances.

Dracula isn’t such a bad chap really. He’s just a lost soul looking for love. Hence the opening number: Queen’s ‘Somebody to Love’. The seven cast members are supported by UK Beatbox champion Alexander Belgarion Hackett (aka ABH Beatbox) whose vocal dexterity anchors, not just the singing, but the whole soundscape of the show. Hackett provides every door slam, bell toll, bat cry, body fall, gun fire, flesh tear, sea storm, gale blow, body blow, horse trot, wolf howl, chain saw. As well as the bass and rhythm section for each song. There is no denying the virtuosity and the precision. However, spread over two hours, the novelty value is in danger of being sucked dry.

What won’t dry up are the jokes. There are many, many of them, tumbling relentlessly as though a giant Christmas cracker shaped piñata has been beaten to a pulp and the punchlines have fallen, not onto the ground, but into the pages of the script. Don’t worry if you miss one – there’s always another hot on its heels. And many are repeated anyway – there are enough running gags here to enter the London marathon.

Joking aside, “Dracapella” is a real treat. Not exactly an obvious choice for the seasonal programming, but there is a pantomime quality that creates a delightful festive atmosphere. In this vein, topical gags are shoehorned into the text, as are the array of hit songs that often come out of nowhere (most of them dragged, kicking and screaming, from the eighties). But once in the music, the vocal harmonies are magical and mesmerising. We could linger longer but the sheer pace of the show demands that some numbers are cut short and the thread of the story needs to be picked up again.

Ako Mitchell, as Dracula, is seriously cool (i.e. serious and cool), with an ability to switch to teasing playfulness. Bizarrely we are rooting for him throughout. Stephen Ashfield has comic timing and precision to a tee in his portrayal of Harker, the hard done by estate agent sent to Transylvania to seal the deal with the bloodthirsty Count. His journey from zero to hero is uplifting, no more so than for his bossy wife, Mina, played with a deliciously over ripe grace and hauteur by Lorna Want. But you can see all along that she’s pulling our legs. Her best friend, Lucy, is hilarious in the hands of Keala Settle, whose glowing presence fills the space with warmth and humour. Ciarán Dowd is relishing his role as an eccentric (to say the least) Van Helsing, doubling up as Sinister – Dracula’s faithful and foolish lackey. Completing the line up are Philip Pope as Lucy’s stuttering beau, Holmwood, whose stumbling words take flight on the wings of his musical prowess; and Monique Ashe-Palmer – a vocal powerhouse from the outset. The entire troupe are all vocally talented, multi-rolling triple threats.

Jez Bond directs with a schoolmaster’s diligence (come on – we’ve got to get through this story before the bell), while still allowing his charges to have the best time ever. The sheer joy that gushes from the stage, like blood from a jugular, soaks us to the skin – and we are loving it. Admittedly, the stakes are never high, the story becomes drawn out and the ideas get mercilessly recycled, but we are having too much fun by now to worry too much about that. I could bore you with the song list (there are some fabulous reinterpretations of old favourites), but instead I’d implore you to go and find out for yourself. “Dracapella” defies logic. A monster mashup: melodramatic, musical and mad. An unexpected feast you can really sink your teeth into.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: A HORNY LOVE STORY

Charing Cross Theatre

★★★★

“it’s a joy to watch the exuberant camaraderie spread among the cast”

When Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve’s “La Belle et la Bête” was first published in the early eighteenth century, it rapidly entered into folklore, spreading beyond its native France to Italy, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Eastern Europe, Scandinavia, Southern and Eastern Asia and North and South America. You could say worldwide, I guess. Along the way it adopted many different titles, but we all know it by its literal translation, “Beauty and the Beast”. Why am I telling you this? You already know. Embedded in childhood and then reinforced in adulthood through stage and screen, the story is like a comfort blanket for us; a seasonal favourite – instantly familiar.

Familiar, that is, until writers Jon Bradfield and Martin Hooper get their filthy little fingers on it. The story’s path does kind of lead you from start to finish, but its twisting, staggering, drunken meanderings will trip you up from the outset. ‘Losing the plot’ is an apt phrase here. It’s best just to follow blindly and go with the flow. Though you’re still likely to lose your footing, for you’ll be creasing up with laughter. You simply won’t have time, nor the inclination, to scrutinise the storyline.

We are in the Scottish hamlet of Lickmanochers (neighbouring village, Suckmacoch, is just across the valley). The eponymous ‘Beauty’ is now Bertie, who helps run the town’s only petrol station/general store along with his sister and overbearing mother. They each seem to be looking for love, or rather just the raunchy side effects. This is “Beauty and the Beast: A Horny Love Story” after all. Some may argue it’s nonsense, but that just shows a lack of imagination. It goes without saying, surely, that our protagonists will end up on a North Sea oil rig staffed by pop band Village People’s failed auditionees. Via the beast’s castle of course. The beast is called Charlie (a pretty sexy beast, mind, if you happen to go for the hirsute look). Bertie’s sister, Bonnie, hits it off with good fairy, Juno, but by now Bertie is too busy rescuing his mum, Flora, from the beast’s castle to notice. Charlie’s brother, the villainous Cornelius, is responsible for his beastly curse. True love will put it all to rights, with the help of magic plums, origami table decorations that are actually legal documents pertinent to the plot, adult jokes-a-plenty, some cracking songs and dollops of cream pies flung into the audience.

It’s all over the top, but the cast perform with a restraint that allows the clever witticisms to land perfectly alongside the obvious jokes. The songs are sassy – hilariously warped Disney pastiches – while the dialogue is strewn with filmic and theatre references, many of which may be missed; but don’t worry – there’s plenty to go round. And it’s a joy to watch the exuberant camaraderie spread among the cast. Matt Kennedy plays Bertie with a wide-eyed innocence – like a children’s television presenter who lets his scandalous side slip once the cameras stop rolling. Laura Anna-Mead, as his sapphic sister, is a cheeky wee lass that Dani Mirels’ Juno understandably finds irresistible. Chris Lane is all moustachioed villainy as the baddie Cornelius and Keanu Adolphus Johnson’s beast is an unexpected heartthrob. Many in the audience might wonder why Bertie would want to reverse the curse on this dashing castle-dweller. At the heart of the show is Matthew Baldwin as Flora. The epitome of the ‘dame’, Baldwin is ‘extraordinaire’; holding the audience in the palm of his hands with a seasoned ease, while sporting some delightfully outlandish costumes (designer Robert Draper provides the sartorial icing on the cake).

Billed as a queer pantomime, it out spins its classification. The irreverence and humour is obviously targeted, but the unashamedly adult humour is universal. The theatre company, ‘He’s Behind You’, are behind this show and it has the balance spot on. Anybody can in indulge in the mischievous magic. Well – almost anybody. This ‘horny love story’ is not what you’d call a family show. But it welcomes you into its own naughty little ménage. Gorgeously gay – whatever dictionary you’re using to define the word.

DRACAPELLA

Park Theatre

★★★★

“The sheer joy that gushes from the stage, like blood from a jugular, soaks us to the skin”

DRACAPELLA

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 8th December 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Craig Sugden

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DRACAPELLA

DRACAPELLA

DRACAPELLA

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: A HORNY LOVE STORY

Charing Cross Theatre

★★★★

“it’s a joy to watch the exuberant camaraderie spread among the cast”