★★★

“a joyful celebration that brings a smile to our faces”

In today’s Google-driven society there are numerous sites on the internet that advise us on the dos and don’ts of that infamous English institution: the office Christmas party. In the past we would just muddle through and deal with the hangover and yearly embarrassment in our own time, with heads bowed low by the water cooler. Lydia Kavanagh’s one act, one person play takes us straight into the heart of an end-of-year celebration, complete with Prosecco, vol-au-vents, cheesy music and all the mixed personality types who put their inhibitions through the shredder for a couple of hours. Even if you’ve never held an office job, Laura Rea’s naturalistic performance in “Deck the Stalls” allow us to relate to the many personalities she portrays.

Rea is Serena, a no-nonsense Geordie from the Byker district of Newcastle. An English Lit graduate who somehow ended up in Milton Keynes as an office worker. Trapped in life she is now cornered on all sides at the party before finding a narrow escape route to the toilet cubicles. There’s Middle Management Maddison who loves to delegate, HR Sandra who loves rules but has ‘gone rogue’ after one too many glasses of bubbly; single mum Chrissie from data analysis, and Dave – the ‘self-imposed’ DJ for the night (nobody asked him to spin the decks); Guardian-reading, ‘morally vegan’, lesbian Ellen. And finally, Steven, the fit dad who cycles to work, thoroughly married but carrying on with Serena in the broom cupboard at work.

It is an office that is built on formula and somewhat clichéd caricature, but Rea gives a freshness to each, deftly switching accents, mannerisms and facial expression. The comedy is all very predictable, and we are wondering where it is going but Rea has a way of engaging with the audience that keeps us waiting. For there is a bombshell – or rather more of a party popper. It isn’t going to bring the roof down, but it does give a twist that leads us out of the humdrum. There is also an undercurrent to the festivities that the writing uncovers. As we follow Serena into the ladies’ cubicle (it’s okay, we’re allowed to do that – it is the office party after all) we see another side to her. It is her first Christmas since her father passed away and for a few moments we glimpse the sense of grief that is buried beneath the armour-plated cynicism. For Serena, being alone is the best way to alleviate her sense of loneliness.

It is the contrast of the raucous humour and the quiet reflection that lend shade to the evening, except the highs and the lows are not sufficiently explored and we find ourselves on fairly level ground. We are unsure of how far Serena has sunk into her sadness or how much focus we should be putting onto it. Serena, too, is not the most sympathetic character so it is difficult to fully root for her. Nevertheless, Rea’s versatility creates a very watchable personality who, under Chloe Cattin’s taut direction, brings to life the chaos of office politics gone astray under the influence of alcohol. Some call this ‘Anti-Panto’. It acknowledges that regret and despair don’t take a holiday – even at Christmas. But “Deck the Stalls” still manages to be a joyful celebration that brings a smile to our faces.

NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

Donmar Warehouse

★★★★★

“The performances are uniformly superb, the skin of each character ripped open by the flaming crossbow of passion”

A major comet is visible from earth on average every five to ten years, while a great comet is visible every twenty to thirty years. Although the timescale may be contracted a little, a truly great show appears every once in a while, that forces people to look up and take note. “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” is one of the brightest examples of this phenomenon. Directed by Tim Sheader, Dave Malloy’s searing sung-through musical will scorch itself into our memories for a long time to come.

Malloy has taken a seventy-page segment from Leo Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace’ and moulded it into a passionate, original musical that interweaves the fates of the two protagonists: the story of Natasha’s downfall and Pierre’s awakening. A tale of despair and of hope. Surrounded by a colourful array of characters, it could be a convoluted affair, but Malloy’s libretto clarifies the narrative with mischievous simplicity and imaginative ingenuity. We are propelled into the story by way of the ‘Prologue’; playfully executed like a cross between a memory game and an introductory meeting for a covert club. A few melodious words from each, between the repeated refrain that one of its members is absent. ‘Andrey isn’t here’. Andrey is off fighting in the Napoleonic Wars. His fiancé is here though. The beautiful Countess Natasha, tossed into the centre of the space – a smouldering comet on her journey from gleeful, betrothed ingenue to tragic heroine.

Chumisa Dornford-May grabs the roller-coaster ride of Natasha’s role with complete abandon and commitment. Her songs of innocence capsized by harsh experience. All around her is seduction. The hunters and the hunted; cuckolds and adulterers. In Moscow, waiting for the return of her fiancé, Natasha falls in love with the casually dismissive yet alluringly sexy Anatole (Jamie Muscato in gorgeous, rock-star, swaggering form). Anatole’s sister, Hélène, is delighted by the illicit affair. After all, it is de rigueur. She herself has made a cuckold of her husband – the deeply unhappy Pierre. Cat Simmons’ manipulative Hélène is sultry and sexy yet encased in ice, while Declan Bennett’s Pierre is dishevelled in appearance and self-esteem, yet the heat from his growing awareness can warm the hardest heart.

The performances are uniformly superb, the skin of each character ripped open by the flaming crossbow of passion. We want to know what is going to happen but at the same time want to stay in each moment for as long as possible. Malloy’s score (which he also orchestrated for the ten-piece band) is impossibly eclectic and wonderfully fearless. A mix of folk, anarcho-punk, techno, baroque, chamber and New Wave. One moment heartbreaking ballads, the next storms of dramatic scales and diminished sevenths. The musical numbers are bolstered by the ensemble – one minute a celestial choir, the next a band of whirling dervishes at a rave. The musicians have no break, and just when you think you’ve reached a musical highlight, another appears on the horizon. And the singing is extraordinary – both in virtuosity and emotion. Bennett’s solo number ‘Dust and Ashes’ sweeps us away one moment; then Dornford-May lures us back in with the heartfelt ‘No One Else’. Simmons’ smoky vocals bewitch during ‘Charming’. Maimuna Memon, as Natasha’s cousin Sonya who vainly tries to save her, beguiles with a hypnotic performance and mesmerising voice – her plaintive ‘Sonya Alone’ up there with the peaks of the set list.

Evie Gurney’s costumes are as lawless and rebellious as the score. Like a job lot stolen from the wardrobe of a New Romantic music video they scream sex, drugs and rock n roll. Period and modern, the design mirrors the entire production which defies time and place. We know we are in nineteenth century Moscow, but we could equally be in New York’s Studio 54 nightclub in the nineteen-seventies.

“Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” is a trailblazing show. Against Leslie Travers’ harsh, minimalist backdrop it dazzles at every level. It is spectacular and heartrending, right up to its closing number. Sung quietly to the accompaniment of a simple piano motif, it rises like the great comet of 1812, into an imagined starry sky. It brings with it the promise of a new life. It’s not the end of the world after all. The exhilaration ripples through everybody in the room. A soaring success.

DECK THE STALLS

Riverside Studios

★★★

“a joyful celebration that brings a smile to our faces”

DECK THE STALLS

Riverside Studios

Reviewed on 18th December 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Jamie McNaught

Previously reviewed at this venue:

DECK THE STALLS

DECK THE STALLS

DECK THE STALLS

NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

Donmar Warehouse

★★★★★

“The performances are uniformly superb, the skin of each character ripped open by the flaming crossbow of passion”