★★★★

“the air is thick with mischief and the sense of fun that this insanely talented troupe bring to the stage is enough to win us over”

‘Transsexual Transylvaniaaa-a-a!’ comes to mind the moment James Daly’s lace-and-leather-clad, midriff-baring Dracula makes his flamboyant entrance onto the stage. But it’s a riff that’s half a century old. So the writers, Gordon Greenberg and Steve Rosen, need something more saucy to dollop onto the old frank-n-furter. It’s safe to say, thankfully, that they’ve dished up the magic ingredients – hundreds and thousands of them in fact, sacrilegiously scattered all over Bram Stoker’s gothic masterpiece. It’s the theatrical equivalent of popping candy, that fizzles in your mouth and leaves you giggling with effervescent joy. Chuck in some camp, gender-swapping, costume-changing, character-bending humour; a touch of gore, and rapid-fire one-liners and you eventually arrive at the imperfect feast that is “Dracula, A Comedy of Terrors”. Faithful(ish) to Bram Stoker’s original, it still takes succulent chunks of the story’s flesh and regurgitates it dripping with frivolity. As the writers themselves have said of the novel: ‘anything that takes itself that seriously is a prime target for satire’.

As the houselights fade, we are plunged into a cacophony of darkness and noise, rather like entering a ghost train at a fairground. Tijana Bjelajac’s shadowy set reflects this kind of clubland-meets-circus atmosphere, while Tristan Raine’s costumes blend Victoriana with novelty, giving hints of steampunk. Clever use of props and puppets add to the magic, while the many costume changes are acrobatic feats – one in particular drawing its own round of applause. But the main attraction is the juggling act in which the cast of five play a whole horde of madcap characters.

Little time is spent in Transylvania itself. Jonathan Harker (a wonderfully goofy and uptight Charlie Stemp) rocks up at Dracula’s castle to clinch a lucrative property deal with the count. James Daly’s Dracula is the archetypal image of the narcissistic Rock Star – money and sex on tap but still wanting more. The sexual tension between him and Harker is palpable, until Dracula diverts his bloodthirsty attentions onto Harker’s fiancé, Lucy. By now we are back in Whitby, not exactly the kind of seaside town you have in mind for a queer pilgrimage. Dracula meets his match with the array of kooky individuals he comes up against. Safeena Ladha is headstrong and assertive as Lucy. Her rather downtrodden sister, Mina, is played by Sebastien Torkia, complete with ginger wig and ruffled ballgowns. Dianne Pilkington is their father, Dr. Westfield, who has turned their house into a live-in retreat for society’s oddballs (all played with a vaudevillian hilarity by them all).

You know the story, and how it ends. It’s the treatment that stands out. Co-writer Greenberg also directs, his hand visibly cracking the whip to keep the pace as frenetic as the lunacy. After the initial set-up, however, the humour is relatively conventional. More panto than subversive. The melodrama is kicked to the rafters even if some of the jokes don’t aim quite so high. But the air is thick with mischief and the sense of fun that this insanely talented troupe bring to the stage is enough to win us over. It is all very silly and chaotic, but delivered with precision and comic timing you could die for. But it doesn’t quite draw blood. It is more like a love-bite than a sharp set of fangs puncturing our skin. Then again – that’s probably a good thing. Definitely worth staking out.

CRY-BABY, THE MUSICAL

Arcola Theatre

★★★★★

“Feel-good is the understatement of the year where this show is concerned”

‘It’s a beautiful day for an anti-polio picnic’. So begins the new all-singing, all-dancing “Cry-Baby, The Musical”. This is no surprise if you are armed with the knowledge that the musical is based on the transgressive filmmaker John Waters’ 1990 film. Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan have written the book, with David Javerbaum and Adam Schlesinger providing the songs. Directed by the Arcola Theatre’s artistic director, Mehmet Ergen, it bursts onto the London stage with an effervescent eccentricity that Waters would be proud of with all his screwball heart.

A couple of words of advice. Leave your expectations at home, along with any judgements, preconceptions or theatrical snobbery. Don’t read the programme notes – the ones that allude to the show dealing with issues of class-based injustices, political relevance, privilege, demonisation… blah blah blah. It really isn’t that deep. Yes, they’re all in there somewhere, cleverly hidden in hilarious, blink-and-you-miss one-liners, but the trick is to just wallow in the whole explosion of joy that this show bombards you with. The story is as shallow as they come. A kind of ‘Grease’ meets ‘Jailhouse Rock’ – but better than both put together. It is 1954. Communism is the big taboo. Wade “Cry-Baby” Walker is the coolest kid in town. He’s a rebel with a cause. A bad guy – though we kind of twig pretty quickly that he’s not really. Allison is the strait-laced rich girl who crosses to the wrong side of the tracks, drawn to his irresistible flame. Forbidden love and teen rebellion run rife while society moral values are turned upside down.

Adam Davidson plays the eponymous ‘Cry-Baby’. His name derives from the fact that he hasn’t cried since his parents died and he was orphaned at a young age (we learn the circumstances of his mum and dad’s tragic demise later). He is the leader of the ‘Drapes’, a misfit crew of baddies with whom the ‘Squares’ (to which Lulu-Mae Pears’ clean-cut Allison belongs) are in awe of, yet fear, in equal measure. Allison has been brought up by her grandmother, the (seemingly) upright Mrs Cordelia Vernon-Williams (Shirley Jameson). Surrounded by a magnificent kaleidoscope of colourful characters, all performed by an even more magnificent cast, the narrative roller-coasts through picnics, self-awareness days, song contests, arson attacks, prison, escape, freedom, atonement, justice, hard-won-love… right up to its preposterously upbeat finale. All the while our smiles get wider and wider, the laughs get stronger, and our toe-tapping turns into all-out body shaking. Feel-good is the understatement of the year where this show is concerned.

The score must have been one of the easiest to write. There’s irony in that statement, but a snippet of truth too. The entire set list is pure pastiche. The chord structures have been handed to Javerbaum and Schlesinger on a plate. Each song is instantly recognisable, yet bizarrely unique. It’s the lyrics that can take the credit – insanely clever, witty and poignant. The writers are masters of rhyming and scanning, and the performers deliver faultlessly. We are transported back to the fifties with the genre defining songs: the close-knit harmonies of ‘Squeaky Clean’, or the rockabilly rhythms of ‘Jukebox Jamboree’. Ballads such as ‘Misery’ and ‘I’m Infected’ tug at our teenage heartstrings and rekindle the memories of our misspent teenage years. The bar is high, but there still manage to be highlights. Shirley Jameson’s ‘Did Something Wrong Once’ threatens to bring the house down, as does Chad Saint Louis (who plays bad boy Dupree) every time he opens his mouth, and lungs. Davidson and Pears smash every number they sing. The ensemble players are, without exception, exceptional. Eleanor Walsh, in particular, as Lenora Frigid (don’t blame me – I didn’t name the characters), whose solo number ‘Screw Loose’ defines her perfectly. Bonkers? Yes! Virtuosic? Without doubt! And how can you fail to enjoy a musical that includes song titles such as ‘Girl Can I Kiss You with Tongues?’ Forget the phrase ‘from the sublime to the ridiculous’. This show combines the too. Ridiculous? Yes! Sublime? Without a doubt!

You don’t need a big stage to create a spectacle. Chris Whittaker’s choreography shifts the walls outwards, playing with scale and creating deceptively big routines. Meticulously period yet innovative, it encapsulates the show’s energy and sense of fun. Shades of Jerome Robbins in no way eclipse Whittaker’s own individuality. Like every element of the show, familiarity and peculiarity dance side by side.

The finale number – a rousing ‘Nothing Bad’ – sums it up. “Cry-Baby, The Musical” is two hours of star-spangled fun. You’d be a cry-baby to miss it (I know…!). All I can say is ‘be there… or be square’.

DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS

Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★★

“the air is thick with mischief and the sense of fun that this insanely talented troupe bring to the stage is enough to win us over”

DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS

Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed on 18th March 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Matt Crockett

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DRACULA

DRACULA

DRACULA

CRY-BABY, THE MUSICAL

Arcola Theatre

★★★★★

“Feel-good is the understatement of the year where this show is concerned”