Tag Archives: Jonathan Evans

BLACK COMEDY

★★★★

Orange Tree Theatre

BLACK COMEDY

Orange Tree Theatre

★★★★

“farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about”

There is something intrinsically satisfying about watching somebody dig themselves deeper and deeper into a hole. Witnessing others’ misfortunes – especially in a theatre environment – isn’t driven by cruelty. Psychologists and philosophers have written pages on the subject of ‘schadenfreude’, but most of us enjoy the sensation without giving it a second thought. Which is why television shows like ‘You’ve Been Framed’ are popular. Farce is funny. It works best by putting ordinary people into extreme, out-of-control predicaments; the humour coming from watching them try to maintain their dignity and hide their secrets, while all around everything is falling apart.

Playwright Peter Shaffer certainly knew how to tap into this concept when he created the characters for his 1965 one-act comedy “Black Comedy”. And then he added another trick, borrowed from Chinese theatre, where he would reverse darkness and light. The play, set in a young sculptor’s South Kensington flat, opens in pitch black. When a fuse blows plunging the flat into darkness, the stage is illuminated. We see everything, while the characters are stumbling around in the dark. What ensues is seventy-five minutes of joy, watching the disintegration of order coupled with seeing how the darkness reveals truths that the characters manage to hide in the light.

A simple but ingenious conceit made trickier by playing it completely in the round: the expertise required by the cast is magnified, yet they pull it off superbly. Fledgling sculptor Brindsley (Joe Bannister) and his fiancé Carol (Leah Haile) are preparing to meet a rich and influential art dealer. Anxious to impress, Brindsley has ‘borrowed’ some expensive antiques from his neighbour Harold (Simon Manyonda) without his knowledge. Meanwhile, Brindsley’s former mistress, Clea (Patricia Allison), is threatening a comeback, while Carol’s father – Colonel Melkett (Jason Barnett) – has arrived to check out his prospective son-in-law. Teetotal neighbour Miss Furnival (Julia Hills) enters, seeking refuge from her fear of the dark.

Caroline Steinbeis, making her directorial debut at the Orange Tree Theatre, handles the intricacies and the chorographical demands with panache. Aided by physical comedy consultant, John Nicholson, the fast-paced chaos unfolding on stage feels natural despite the precise and intricate blocking required. Occasionally things fall out of synch, but we barely notice amongst the intentional mayhem. Bannister has faultless comic timing, pitching pauses perfectly during which we can almost hear his brain working out how to get out of the next mess he’s found himself in. Haile’s Carol is teasing and playful, a willing accomplice to her fiancé’s deceptions, simultaneously rebelling against her military father while wrapping him around her finger. Barnett gives a gentle giant of a performance as the colonel; imposing but bumbling, regimental in his speech but betraying a taste for subversion.

The laughs increase in tandem with the number of people onstage. When Harold returns early, much of the humour derives from Brindsley’s doomed attempts to replace all of his belongings before the lights come back on. Physical comedy comes to the fore, around which Manyonda – as Harold – dances with a camp joie de vivre, until it turns to gleeful horror when truths are revealed. Hills is a delight as Miss Furnival, accidentally discovering the joys of alcohol in the darkness. Allison is a gorgeously impish Clea, who delights in the advantageous observer’s position in which she finds herself. A mischievous smile follows her every movement and sentence – it is clear she is relishing the chaos. When Schuppanzigh the electrician (Chris Chilton) arrives, he is mistaken for the rich art dealer in a wonderfully slapstick, though slightly predictable, comedy of errors. The real art dealer has barely more than a walk on role, but Javier Marzan makes the most of it.

A whirlwind of a show, it works well up close. Dangerously up close for the performers, but they use the audience to great and comic effect. It is farcically over the top – but that’s what it’s all about. As a play, “Black Comedy” is as light as they come, and great fun. A reminder that, at times, theatre is simply pure, joyous entertainment without needing to be anything more.



BLACK COMEDY

Orange Tree Theatre

Reviewed on 27th May 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Sam Taylor

 

 

 

 

 

BLACK COMEDY

BLACK COMEDY

BLACK COMEDY

DARK OF THE MOON

★★★

Charing Cross Theatre

DARK OF THE MOON

Charing Cross Theatre

★★★

“a neat little fable, with a good deal of darkness within”

The source material for the new musical, “Dark of the Moon”, goes back a long way. Originally billed as a ‘legend with music’ it opened on Broadway in 1945. That, in turn, was loosely based on English/Scottish folklore of the mid seventeenth century. ‘The Ballad of Barbara Allen’ was taken over to America by the earliest pioneers and gained the status of being one of America’s best-known ballads; some say laying the bedrock that bluegrass music was based on. The current version of the story has made its way into a new musical – with a book by Jonathan Prince and music and lyrics by Lindy Robbins, Dave Bassett and Steve Robson – that allegedly builds on that bluegrass foundation. Although the mix is dominated by contemporary rock music, a touch of Southern Gothic and a whole witches’ brew of Musical Theatre tropes. And, of course, ballads.

Indeed, it opens with a balladeer. Kiah Lindsay bookends the show with her mandolin and gift for storytelling. But in between, tradition gets swept aside for more homogenous crowd pleasers with predictable orchestrations. Lindsay’s words cut through the sparseness, whereas elsewhere the lyrics are often lost in the over-produced numbers, despite the belting form that the two leads are renowned for. John (Glenn Adamson) is a non-human, ‘witch’ creature who lives in eternity amongst his coven in the Appalachian Mountains. Barbara Allen (Lauren Jones) lives in the fictional, God-fearing town of Buck Creek. Both are misfits in their own communities. Having fallen in love with Barbara, John desperately wants to cross over to the human world but, of course, there are conditions. He has a year to prove the match is worthwhile. Otherwise, he is condemned to return to his life as an immortal witch. Barbara must remain faithful to John in that time. That sounds like no big deal, except that all the witches are convinced that Barbara isn’t up to the task – given her past promiscuity. Or so we are led to believe. There is no hint whatsoever of this in her characterisation.

Characterisation is, in fact, thin on the ground. Prince’s book churns out dialogue that drifts in a no-man’s-land somewhere between high school romcom and scary movie. The lyrics, when they are heard, follow suit like impressionable wannabes. The Faustian deal is struck, but the stakes are never high. Being human is heartbreaking. We learn this from a recurring message, delivered either through song or platitude. The staging, nevertheless, is well executed. Director Georgie Rankcom mixes the two worlds distinctively, letting them overlap and collide with force. Jonathan Chan’s lighting reinforces the disparity of these worlds, and a committed cast belt out fine vocals that complement the lush visuals of the show. But the heart is bland. Small town vigilantism and intolerance are explored as much as the supernatural, and a couple of dubious subplots attempt to subvert the predictability. John asks what it takes to be a man. Barbara justifies infidelity in the cause of saving her man. There is a twist, however, courtesy of our balladeer, that is a welcome diversion.

While the musical numbers follow a safe formula throughout, the second act fares better in terms of narrative flow. It’s a neat little fable, with a good deal of darkness within. This production doesn’t plumb the depths, but it does seem to have fun on its shallow surface. There is a Glam Rock versus Hillbilly duel going on, and the devil has all the best tunes, as usual. There are moments of magic but, unlike the protagonists, you won’t be spellbound.



DARK OF THE MOON

Charing Cross Theatre

Reviewed on 26th May 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Tom Bowles


 

 

 

 

DARK OF THE MOON

DARK OF THE MOON

DARK OF THE MOON