Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

★★★

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

Upstairs at the Gatehouse

★★★

“the sheer sense of fun ultimately wins us over”

There are little pockets of history that often go unnoticed until brought to the attention of an enterprising and energised theatre company. I, for one, was unaware of the true historical epidemic known as the ‘Dance Plague’ that struck Strasbourg in 1518. Judging by this current stage adaptation, the four actors (Caoimhe de Brun, Harrison MacDonald-Taylor, Sam Trotman and Finn Tickel) re-enacting the events are just as much in the dark. Armed with a basic scrapbook of archival material, they take creative licence to the extreme and “fill in the gaps”, as they repeatedly tell us – even in song.

The ‘Dance Plague’ was a bizarre outbreak of frenzied, uncontrollable dancing. The phenomenon began with a single woman – Frau Troffea (Caoimhe de Brun) – dancing silently in the scorching summer heat for nearly a week. Others joined in and at its peak over four hundred people were afflicted, many of whom danced until exhaustion, heart attacks or strokes claimed their lives. Speculation as to the cause was rife. Theories included crops poisoned by a hallucinogenic fungi, spider bites, stress related mass hysteria, overheated blood or divine punishment for their sins. Suggested cures were equally outlandish, but eventually the ‘choreomania’ subsided by itself after a couple of months.

The four cast members play an impressive number of characters, from a king to a street beggar with everything in between. It takes a while to reach the heart of the story; the narrative waylaid by the brazen artistic liberty the writers, Tickel and Trotman, have taken. The premise is that four musical theatre actors are holed up in a rehearsal room equipped with the title of the show, but little else. They are busking it. This quasi-improvised approach blends well with the self-mocking delivery that is often funny and always chaotic. Shades of Monty Python appear unexpectedly, adding to the silliness of the proceedings. The pizzazz of the performers has to be applauded, each a fireball of energy unfazed by the frequent prop and set mishaps and Harry Heslop’s erratic and often misbehaving lighting.

It is a tough act to pull off entirely successfully. It is without doubt an adult show, masquerading as a ‘Theatre in Education’ touring act. Littered with profanities, bawdy humour and morally controversial innuendos, the whole evening is presented in a consistently exaggerated style as though we are primary school kids with a microscopic attention span. With references to ‘Six’ and to ‘Hamilton’ we are told, at one point, that “history lessons can be fun”. Much of the exposition could, and should, be curtailed; while the repeated conceit that these characters are ad-libbing way out of their depth promptly loses its punch.

Tickel and Trotman’s songs are a mix of the inventive and the generic. With a three-piece band of keys, drums and guitar, the arrangements lack the drive of the cast, invariably leaving the actors to motor on with the musicians meekly following behind, the instruments lying too low in the mix with little variety or texture. A couple of numbers stand out. ‘Bottom of the List’ is a fun and clever number, and ‘The Priest Song’ allows Trotman to channel Tim Curry’s Rocky Horror campness – albeit in a cassock instead of a corset. ‘Dance Fever’, the closing number for Act One, is a medley of references that defies logic and formula but is a fitting showstopper.

The company are clearly enjoying themselves, and the sweat pouring off them by curtain call matches the sweat they have clearly put into the production. Yet despite the maelstrom of activity, there are moments when the piece lags. But when the momentum picks up, and new characters emerge again (how many can you fit into a two-hour show?) we are joyfully back on board. Fast paced and physical it sometimes trips over itself but, unlike Noga Gilboa’s cardboard set, manages to stay standing to the end. It just needs a touch more solidity to reign in the wafty tangents that waylay the flow of the story. Nevertheless, the sheer sense of fun ultimately wins us over.



THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

Upstairs at the Gatehouse as part of Camden Fringe

Reviewed on 11th August 2026

by Jonathan Evans

 

 

 

 

 

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

THE DANCE PLAGUE OF 1518

TWELFTH NIGHT

★★★★

Kew Gardens

TWELFTH NIGHT

Kew Gardens

★★★★

“a delight to watch, under the stars, where magic blends with mayhem”

The Australian Shakespeare Company’s press release promises to bring an “eventful” (their quotation marks) production of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” to the grounds of Kew Gardens this summer. For once, this is no mere promotional embellishment. Their lively take on the bard’s romantic comedy is, indeed, chock-full of memorable moments and offbeat surprises. They are the Lords of Misrule. Shakespeare would applaud their sense of mischief and bear no grudges whatsoever as they happily run amok with all the liberties they have taken.

It is a kind of creative chaos, but one that still allows the clarity of the text cut through. Each performer has a firm hold of the rhythm and a solid understanding of the verse and the prose. Occasionally reason gets left behind as some choices come with quite a hefty question mark. The shaky foundations, however, are strengthened by the brilliance of a top-notch cast who perform with the unbridled energy of rock musicians let loose at a summer festival. The tone is complemented by the uncredited costume design – although ‘design’ is a loose definition. A wonderful mix of New Romantic, Glam Rock, Commedia dell’arte, Alice-In-Wonderland and travelling circus. Viola (Louise Hoare) and Sebastian (Scott Middleton) are visually indistinguishable with their scarlet Ziggy Stardust mullets and Aladdin Sane lightning bolt (the face paint works better for Viola/Cesario, indicating – as it did with Bowie – the split identity of a new persona; but maybe we’re overthinking here).

The music, which veers towards an acoustic-driven folksy vibe, doesn’t always follow the visual aesthetic of the show. Alex Cooper’s Feste wear’s his guitar like a third arm and leads the musical numbers with his commanding singing voice. He wouldn’t be out of place in the back room of an Irish pub, although on occasion he leads the ensemble into anthemic choruses that feel like ‘Live Aid’ has gate-crashed a party at Steve Strange’s Blitz Club circa 1980. In another company’s hands this could be met with bewilderment, but the end effect here is quite magical. It is a touch odd, too, to witness ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ during a heatwave on the last day of July, yet it is as funny as it is incongruous.

Director Glenn Elston’s lively staging puts as much, if not more, focus on the household and supporting figures as the principal roles. Sir Toby Belch, despite being three sheets to the wind, rules the roost. Jackson McGovern plays the loveable rogue to perfection, fuelled by cheap wine. Along with Tony Rive’s Sir Andrew Aguecheek they make a wonderful double act; magnificently rounded off with Monica Nash’s Maria and Larissa Teale’s Fabian on full comedic form. The foursome are clearly having the time of their lives. Olivia is a dark and sultry Goth in mourning while Malvolio is a toff in a morning suit – both truly relishing their roles. Nicole Nabout slightly overdoes Olivia’s transition from ice-maiden to vixen when she falls for the mistaken identity of Ceasario, pursuing him/her with a ‘Carry On’ bawdiness. But in more restrained moments her sensual charisma shines. Maverick Newman’s Malvolio is suitably uptight until he uncoils, inviting at first our laughter and then our sympathy.

The anarchic humour, which is sometimes overpowering, still allows for subtleties; such as the sexual ambiguities. Hugh Sexton, as Orsino, conveys a certain confusion, unsure if Cesario is a boy or a girl (Bowie’s ‘Rebel Rebel’ comes to mind… so maybe there is thought behind the make-up). But if the characters are in a whirl, the audience are in a cyclone. The second act has a tendency to descend into full-on slapstick surrealism, throwing in some Southern-Gothic, Voodoo, gospel and wizardry into the mix. Oh, and an Italianate police officer in shiny blue hotpants.

The Australian Shakespeare Company’s “Twelfth Night” is certainly a rich tapestry. We are often not sure exactly what is going on in the minds of its creators. But it is a delight to watch, under the stars, where magic blends with mayhem. Just as Viola says of Feste; ‘this fellow is wise enough to play the fool; and do that well craves a kind of wit’, this adaptation is very silly indeed, but it is clear that intelligence, wit and profound skill are the driving force behind its nonsense and absurdity. A wonderful night of ‘midsummer madness’.

 



TWELFTH NIGHT

Kew Gardens

Reviewed on 31st July 2026

by Jonathan Evans


 

 

 

 

TWELFTH NIGHT

TWELFTH NIGHT

TWELFTH NIGHT