Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

TWO OF US

★★★★

Watford Palace Theatre

TWO OF US at the Watford Palace Theatre

★★★★

“Both actors are pretty accomplished pianists, and we feel the bonhomie as they jam together”

“You and I have memories – longer than the road that stretches out ahead”. Although Paul McCartney wrote those lines – from the song ‘Two of Us’ – for his wife Linda, it has always been interpreted as a gesture of affection to John Lennon; made all the more moving as the Beatle’s were well on the way to breaking up. When the Beatles eventually split, the rift between Lennon and McCartney was famously chronicled in the pair’s musical output. Lennon’s “How do you Sleep?” was probably the most scathing, rebuffed by McCartney’s deliberately lightweight and tongue-in-cheek “Silly Love Songs”. The global phenomenon of McCartney’s “Yesterday” was always a bugbear of Lennon’s. The reality was always kept close to the couple’s chests, but speculation was fuelled across the media and around gramophone players as fans pored over the lyrics looking for extra layers of meaning.

Among them was self-confessed Beatles nut, Mark Stanfield, who used the song title for his 2000 film “Two of Us” which became a cult favourite. Now, re-written for the stage with Barry Sloane and Richard Short, it has evolved into a poignant study of friendship, of falling out, reconciliation and looking out for someone. “Two of Us” could be you and me; could be anyone. It’s an ‘everyman’ story, but built around the Lennon-MacCartney duo, it is an inspired choice that dishes out some gripping and honest dialogue.

We are in Lennon’s apartment in The Dakota, overlooking Central Park in 1976, and Paul McCartney turns up unannounced. It was to be the last time they met. The atmosphere is immediately evoked by Amy Jane Cook’s sparse but functional whitewashed apartment – complete with white grand piano. Adrienne Quartly’s realistic sound design firmly places Manhattan six storeys below. Barry Sloane’s Lennon is alone, dressed in a white kimono, jittery and distracted. We immediately wonder if he is okay. Cold Turkey comes to mind, but is it depression? Anxiety? Sloane masterfully gets under the fame, and the skin, to reveal Lennon’s vulnerability beneath the incisive shell. When Jay Johnson’s McCartney crosses the threshold, they initially tread cautiously around each other afraid to break the shell, yet past gripes are clearly seen through the cracks. Johnson is convincing as ‘Macca’ – at times the cheeky-chappy-Scouser whilst also having the gravitas and licence to neutralise Lennon’s acidity. But moreover, Johnson reveals a deeply caring soul who lives with the regret of being unable to fully express his love for his lifelong friend.

The ice breaks at the piano. Both actors are pretty accomplished pianists, and we feel the bonhomie as they jam together. But old wounds resurface, replaced almost as quickly by fond memories, adolescent mischief and a generous supply of wacky baccy. Scot Williams directs with a Pinteresque eye, allowing the action and the emotions to unfold in real time. Sometimes the pauses and silences drag, but for the most part they give us time to prepare ourselves for the next twist in the encounter. In a similar way, McCartney seems to be constantly bracing himself for the attack.

The two actors give powerfully realistic performances, although occasionally hindered by platitudes. And, although not necessarily a revelation, we see another side to the characters. Historical facts are teased out (sometimes via cringeworthy puns) rather than force fed to us, which is a refreshing change from the exposition that often plagues plays like this. Ultimately it is a love story. Of sorts. It comes from the writer’s heart. The final scenes hover between pathos and schmaltz, not quite sure which side of the boundary to land. Yet we are moved. And entertained. Whatever issues underlie the relationship, or sorrows that remain unresolved, “Two of Us” knows how to ‘take a sad song and make it better’.


TWO OF US at the Watford Palace Theatre

Reviewed on 17th September 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ross Kernahan

 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 1936 | ★★★★ | March 2023
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST | ★★★★ | December 2022

TWO OF US

TWO OF US

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

★★★★

Stage Door Theatre

THE STORY OF MY LIFE at the Stage Door Theatre

★★★★

Hill’s dialogue and Bartram’s lyrics are full of eccentric humour, observations and paradoxes”

“The Story of My Life” wears its influences unashamedly on its sleeve, but at the same time has some gorgeous little tricks up those same sleeves. The opening number, ‘Write What You Know’, has more than a nod towards Stephen Sondheim, yet as the song list unfolds, Neil Bartram’s own individuality as a composer shines through. The musical numbers are the perfect accompaniment to Brian Hill’s book, that is intelligently and wittily crafted into an emotional tribute to friendship. The musical’s spirit is lifted straight from Frank Capra’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’, and it soars just as high. Truly, it’s a wonderful show.

Alvin (Tim Edwards) and Thomas (Markus Sodergren) are childhood friends. They became best friends in first grade, bonding over their respective Halloween costumes – Thomas as the Angel Clarence from Capra’s film and Alvin as the ghost of his mum. An indeterminate number of years later, Thomas – now a bestselling author – is trying unsuccessfully to write the eulogy for Alvin’s funeral. The ghost of Alvin appears, more of a distraction than a helping hand, but between them they pull books from the shelves behind them, picking out stories from their past and moulding them into the songs that beautifully evoke their friendship, and the forces that drew them together, then apart, and eventually together again posthumously.

Alvin is a bubble of energy, fascinated by the infinite quirks of the universe while remaining trapped within his own small world. Edwards brilliantly captures Alvin’s sheer ingenuous joy of life, that beats like a fragile wing unable to withstand the winds of fear and insecurity that push him over the edge. His is a complicated mix of neediness and loyalty that Edwards makes irresistibly endearing. Sodergren’s Thomas is more calculated but no less complicated. Breaking bonds and breaking away, his success as a writer throws him into denial. Not just for his true feelings, but also the fact that his literary triumphs are, in fact, literally stolen from his friend’s imagination. Sodergren perceptively chips away at his hard mantle, eventually acknowledging the debt he owes. Whether it is too late or not doesn’t matter; he melts our hearts anyway.

In fact, they both do. We laugh and we cry with them. Hill’s dialogue and Bartram’s lyrics are full of eccentric humour, observations and paradoxes. Occasionally verging on platitude, they are pulled back by the performances. Each song is seamlessly crafted into the text, drawing us in with a smile or a tear as we are swept from the underscore into the waves of emotion of each melody. Sometimes the line between leitmotif and repetition is blurred, but there are some stand out moments. ‘This Is It’ echoes the multiple meanings of the title phrase; its harmonies bringing the couple together. A rich counterpoint to ‘Saying Goodbye’ – parts one to four seen through different eyes. ‘The Butterfly’ is another stand-alone moment, quiet but strong and magnificently delivered. ‘1876’ adopts a lilting folksiness that conjures a young Tom Waits. Minus the gravelly voice, of course. Both Edwards and Sodergren have the vocal purity that can carry the emotive weight of the songs. Musical Director, Aaron Clingham, skilfully and sensitively guides them through the repertoire. They are often tricky numbers, but Clingham’s effortless piano – accompanied by Pippa Mason on cello and Becky Hughes on Clarinet and oboe – lift them into a floating and haunting score.

Designer David Shields’ setting is stark, simple and spot on. White books stacked on white bookcases feed the narrative as the actors plunder the shelves for their backstories. Robert McWhir’s intuitive direction allows the action to wander through the audience, drawing us further in still. Eventually we don’t mind that the ending is unresolved. We never get the full answers to the questions that this musical poses, yet we are filled with a sense of peace. It is quite a unique experience to be moved by something that isn’t being shouted from the rooftops.

Alvin talks about the ‘Butterfly Effect’ – the idea that the world is deeply interconnected, and that a small butterfly flapping its wings could, hypothetically, cause a typhoon somewhere else in the world. “The Story of My Life” is seemingly small-scale, yet it has a huge effect. And an even bigger heart. A real gem that needs no Guardian Angel to ensure its success.


THE STORY OF MY LIFE at the Stage Door Theatre

Reviewed on 13th September 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Peter Davies

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE TAILOR-MADE MAN | ★★★★ | May 2024
MARRY ME A LITTLE | ★★★ | March 2024

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

THE STORY OF MY LIFE

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page