Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

SALOMÉ

★★★★

Theatre Royal Haymarket

SALOMÉ

Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★★

“the show is beautifully stylised and atmospheric”

The story of “Salomé” is biblical, and Oscar Wilde wrote his play over a hundred and thirty years ago, yet it continues to connect with a modern audience. It is mainly down to the continuing influence of Wilde on modern culture, but also because the character of Salomé has always captured people’s imaginations. She has become such an icon. One that is open to interpretation. Gesher Theatre’s take on the story has made some very bold choices. Wilde’s play was considered scandalous – and was indeed banned – upon its publication and, although times have changed since then, Maxim Didenko’s haunting production still maintains the ability to provoke and to unsettle.

We are immediately drawn into the sumptuously decadent world created by designer Galya Solodovnikova. Part Parisian opulence, part Gatsby mansion, we are at the birthday party of Herod, the tetrarch of Judea (Doron Tavori). Soft, jazz piano chords filter through the air while soldiers, dressed in black and carrying machine guns menacingly watch on. Despite appearances, they have the voices of angels – especially the young, tragic Syrian (played by Itamar Peres) who marvels at Salomé’s beauty. The conversation sets up the action, like a prologue of sorts, anticipating the entrance of its heroine. Meanwhile the prophet Jokanaan (aka John the Baptist, played fearlessly by Shir Sayag) is revealed, incarcerated within a frame halfway up the back wall of the stage, lit in flame red hues, expressing his fear-inducing prophecies through melodic falsetto chanting.

When Neta Roth, as Salomé, bursts onto the scene she makes her presence felt instantly. Petulant, eccentric and goading, she is a beguiling mix of spoilt brat and abused child. She certainly knows how to get what she wants, but she often acts too impulsively with little empathy. She is neither outright villain, nor a thoughtful role model for feminism. Her mother Herodias (Lena Fraifeld) is the epitome of frustration and unease at the way her husband, Herod, lusts after his stepdaughter. It is unreciprocated. Salomé instead makes romantic advances towards Jokanaan which, in turn, are spurned. The results are deadly, of course, and events lead up to the famous dance of the seven veils, complete with Salomé’s gruesome demands of Jokanaan’s head on a silver plate as a reward for performing the dance.

The actual story is quite uncomplicated in its familiarity, but what this company does so well is tease out the undercurrents. The characters are stripped bare so that their motivations are crystal clear. It is all about power, hunger, control and manipulation. The abused become the abusers and the objects of desire become the voyeurs. Culprits and victims are indiscernible. Light-hearted conversations downstage are superimposed against slow motion tableaus depicting executions taking place upstage. The cruel contradictions of life in the corridors of power are carefully and imaginatively staged, yet Didenko refuses to make it political; his direction is more sophisticated than that. Instead, the show is beautifully stylised and atmospheric, enhanced by Gleb Filchtinsky’s exquisite lighting and Louis Lebée’s compositions. Nir Knaan is to be found throughout at the grand piano, underscoring the narrative with impeccable sensitivity and emotional accuracy.

Very occasionally the diction gets a bit lost in the venue, although the cast (Roth is the finest example) handle the poetic lyricism of Wilde’s words with ease. While some of the physicality borders on excess, the dance of the seven veils is a powerful moment (if a little odd), eschewing the expected eroticism in favour of finding a more menacing, animalistic flavour. We realise how unhinged Salomé has become and Roth’s portrayal takes on Shakespearian proportions. Indeed, this is very much a tragedy – right up to its shocking finale. A haunting and compelling show, it would be a bit of a tragedy to miss it.



SALOMÉ

Theatre Royal Haymarket

Reviewed on 30th September 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Isaiah Fainberg


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE SCORE | ★★★½ | February 2025
WAITING FOR GODOT | ★★★★ | September 2024
FARM HALL | ★★★★ | August 2024
HEATHERS | ★★★ | July 2021

 

 

SALOMÉ

SALOMÉ

SALOMÉ

LOVE QUIRKS

★★★

The Other Palace

LOVE QUIRKS

The Other Palace

★★★

“the energy truly kicks in as the quartet come together with some powerful harmonies”

Quirk (/kwəːk/): 1. A peculiar aspect of a person’s character or behaviour (noun) 2. (with reference to a person’s mouth or eyebrow) to move or twist suddenly, especially to express amusement or surprise (verb). “Love Quirks” – a new musical with music and lyrics by Seth Bisen-Hersh and book by Mark Childers – incorporates both the noun and the verb in its title. Indeed, ‘love’ is very much a fifth character in this intimate four-hander, complete with all the quirks imaginable. However, despite some genuinely funny moments, there are few twists and fewer surprises in what is essentially a song cycle rather than a fully-fledged musical.

There are eighteen numbers, spread evenly across two acts, that attempt to cover all aspects of love as experienced by four flatmates. Unrequited love is the dominant theme, but we are also offered insights and anecdotes exploring the minefield of dating, marriage, divorce, rejection, one-night-stands, sexuality, sex, romance, peer pressure and expectations. A mix of solos, duets and ensemble pieces, they are delivered with vigour and virtuosity by the cast and there are some beautifully tender moments. There is a tendency, however, to belt out the numbers; a technique that overflows into the dialogue. Moments of high emotion too often come across as mere shouting.

Flatmates Stephanie (Clodagh Greene) and Lili (Ayesha Patel) share their rented accommodation with gay best friend Ryan (Lewis Bear Brown). Although for Lili, Ryan is more of a best friend – she has harboured an unrequited crush on him since her schooldays. Ryan announces he is moving out and sublets his room to Chris (Tom Newland). Chris and Stephanie have history. They dated long ago, and Stephanie holds a bit of a grudge. Meanwhile they are both on the rebound: Stephanie is going through a divorce, and Chris is fleeing a girlfriend who cheated on him. Not wanting to be upstaged, Ryan too has his share of heartbreak. Only Lili is fancy free, although her freedom confines her in self-doubt and longing which steer her towards some dubious, drunken decisions. Basically, they are all pining for what they can’t have.

“It Never Works” – the opening number – sums this up and sets up the premise. It takes a while to warm up, but the energy truly kicks in as the quartet come together with some powerful harmonies. “Let’s Just Be Friends” continues the theme. The banter between songs verges on the inconsequential, and the characterisation lacks any real dimension. Childers’ script comprises chit chat rather than any real narrative, much of which is predictable. We know where it is going, and there are clear signposts leading us to the next song.

The songs themselves are well crafted (except that nearly all of the numbers end on the same base-note, staccato button). “Darling, I Loved You” shows Greene at her most tender in a song that subtly segues into “Who Knows Why?” during which Patel picks up the lead melody. There is a well-balanced mix of quirky solo numbers and rousing duets and ensemble pieces. Act One closes with the titular “Love Quirks”, during which we can imagine the full sound of the composer’s dream, rather than the solo piano accompaniment. Pianist/Musical Director, Tom Noyes, adds dynamic character to certain songs that are in danger of sounding just like the last. “Just Get Over It” is a surprise tango that is a lyrical delight, although director Cecilie Fray could do more with the musical staging.

There is no denying that this is a fun musical. Innovative – not really. Shallow – perhaps. Cheesy – probably. “Love Quirks” has some fine musical moments that stand alone, which is just as well as the story line is too weak to support it by itself. The fine performances from a talented cast certainly keep it from falling in on itself. A more solid framework would make this a sure-fire, quirky hit.



LOVE QUIRKS

The Other Palace

Reviewed on 28th September 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Anna Clare


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

50 FIRST DATES: THE MUSICAL | ★★★★★ | September 2025
SAVING MOZART | ★★★★ | August 2025
THE LIGHTNING THIEF | ★★★ | March 2025
HOMO ALONE | ★★★ | December 2024
JULIE: THE MUSICAL | ★★½ | June 2024
CRUEL INTENTIONS: THE 90s MUSICAL | ★★★★ | January 2024

 

 

LOVE QUIRKS

LOVE QUIRKS

LOVE QUIRKS