★★★

“The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving”

They say that a musical is never truly finished. Any form of dramatic entertainment will change through workshops, regional runs, transfers and previews, but a musical work will often reappear years later with radical changes, cuts, additions and rewrites. Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg’s “Martin Guerre” was first staged in 1996 and has since been through many revisions. The current revival has brought Annabel Mutale and Paul Hodge on board contributing new lyrics, with the formidable director and writer Matthew Warchus lending his capable hands to reshape the material. It is a much shorter, and more pared down, theatrical performance from the creators’ most famous spectacle – ‘Les Misérables’ – but there are hints of the extravaganza it could become with the jostling crowd scenes, ensemble flag waving, dramatic orchestral sound and historical French setting (even though the accents seem to be running around the Yorkshire Moors somewhere).

Played in the round, there appears to be a lot going on. But if you pick away at the flesh, the bones of the story beneath are quite brittle. Martin Guerre is chosen for an arranged marriage to Bertrande but is bizarrely driven out of town by mob rule for failing to sleep with his wife (she doesn’t fare much better either). Martin seeks solace on the battlefield for seven years before returning to a hero’s welcome. But all is not what – or more crucially who – it seems to be. Set in the 16th century and inspired by true events, there are elements of witchcraft, lynch law, superstition and patriarchy in a male dominated society. The current iteration of the show, however, shifts more focus onto Bertrande, placing her more firmly in the spotlight. Liv Andrusier is a spirited Bertrande who seems to know much more than she is letting on. In more ways than one, the husband who returns to her seven years later is not the man he used to be, but we never really discover how complicit Bertrande is to the story’s central premise of stolen identity.

To those unfamiliar with the narrative, much of the opening twenty minutes can be bewildering and not a little confusing. Not enough time seems to be spent on building the characterisation, which makes for a less compelling experience. Sung through, some of the lyrics are lost in the mix during the ensemble numbers, yet when the lead performers break into the solo numbers, the effect is quite magnificent. ‘Someday’ is a highlight, demonstrating Andrusier’s powerful yet wistful voice. The band, under Matthew Jackson’s musical direction, drive the musical throughout at a steady pace, with elements of folk and madrigal cutting through Tom Curran’s lush orchestration.

But overall, there is little to grasp onto emotionally, despite pockets that do bring us to the edge of our seat; particularly the moment when Bertrande, presented with a ‘Sophie’s Choice’ kind of dilemma, has to decide, and prove to the court, who her husband truly is. The programme credits two of the cast (Alex James-Hatton and Shane O’Riordan) to the role of Martin Guerre, but in the course of the evening we learn otherwise. Meanwhile, Barney Wilkinson’s Guillame tries to be one step ahead as the jealous villain of the piece whereas it is, in fact, Colin Ryan’s village idiot – Benoit – who really has the answers.

The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving. Yet the dramatic and symphonic presentation doesn’t hide the fact we leave with unanswered questions. At just ninety minutes, motivation and context get short shrift. We need more individual connection and background to understand better why the villagers behave the way they do. It is gripping in its own way, but it is neither epic, nor does it quite have the intimacy of a love story. For a show that deals principally with identity, it is still in search of its own (which is the main crux of this semi-staged, preview production). With Schönberg’s quite beautiful score the solution can’t be far away. But as they say: a musical is never truly finished.

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning”

Towards the end of the first act of “Fiddler on the Roof”, the sun is gently sinking behind the trees of Regent’s Park and candlelight casts its quivering, magical glow across the stage. A lone fiddler plays the opening bars of the achingly beautiful wedding song, ‘Sunrise, Sunset’. When we reach the bittersweet and hypnotic strains of the chorus, it is as though the number was written for this very moment: for this one particular sunset shared by a thousand people beneath a clear, unifying sky. It is one of many instants that make Jordan Fein’s current staging of “Fiddler on the Roof” one to remember for a long time.

When Sholem Aleichem’s “Tevye’s Daughters: Collected Stories” was first published in Yiddish at the dawn of the twentieth century, he was praised for the naturalness of his characters’ speech and the accuracy of his portrayal of life in the Shtetels of Eastern Europe. His writings combined cheerfulness in the face of adversity with the tragedy of the fate of the societies and their traditions. He probably had no idea that it would one day spawn one of the most successful and highly acclaimed musicals. Revived many times over the half century since its premiere, never before has it reflected the true nature of Aleichem’s writing with such accuracy and sensitivity. The creative elements of Jordan Fein’s interpretation come together in an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning.

The story centres on Tevye (Adam Dannheisser), the milkman in the village of Anatevka who is trying to cling onto his Jewish traditions as the outside world encroaches upon his family’s and the villagers’ lives. Not only that, but he is also up against his rebellious and progressive daughters who question the conventions, shunning the idea of arranged marriages; choosing instead to marry for love. The highly charged yet affectionate subversiveness of his daughters, however, is nothing compared to the dark shadow of the Imperial Russian pogroms rapidly approaching.

Tom Scutt’s imaginative set looms large over the action. A wheatfield uprooted from the ground, wrenched upwards in an arc exposing the name of the village embossed deep into the earth like an indelible stamp. Times are changing but the heritage runs deep. Beneath the canopy the orchestra is visible, the ensemble cast rarely leave the stage and the leading players watch from the sidelines when not in their own scenes. The community spirit is captured before a word is spoken (or sung). Nick Lidster’s clear-cut sound lends fragility to the solo numbers alongside the power of the rousing choruses of the ensemble. Julia Cheng’s choreography conjures a series of grand tableaux, like fine art in real life animation – meticulous yet shapeshifting: the comedy of ‘The Dream’ drifting into a macabre nightmare, or the rousing joy of ‘The Wedding’ that sinks into sinister violence as the Tsar’s officers intrude.

Adam Dannheisser, as Tevye, shifts superbly between the darkness and the light. A dominant figure yet dominated by the women in his life, he brings out the inherent comedy in the script with a true glint in his eye. A standout performance, but one of many; including Lara Pulver, as his wife Golde who really pulls the strings, along with Liv Andrusier’s feisty Tzeitel and Georgia Bruce’s pocket-rocket portrayal of Hodel. These strings snap when it comes to Chava, whose desire for marriage outside the Jewish faith is a line Tevye will not cross. Hannah Bristow adds poignancy with some evocative clarinet playing, endowing her character with a significance almost as symbolic as the eponymous ‘fiddler’ (the virtuosic Raphael Papo).

The pulse of the piece is the score. Jerry Bock’s music and Sheldon Harnick’s lyrics have gained fame and familiarity over time, but the company inject fresh individuality into the songs. Full of imagery they range from intimate to anthemic, from the major to the minor, backed by the twelve-piece orchestra. The emotional impact of the music never fails to stab, and then soothe the heart, culminating in an aching finale that feels global yet is inseparable from its ethnic origins. This is musical theatre at its heartfelt best.

Tag Archives: Liv Andrusier

MARTIN GUERRE

★★★

The Old Vic

MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

★★★

“The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving”

MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

Reviewed on 20th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Maybanks

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

🎭 A TOP SHOW IN AUGUST 2024 🎭

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF

★★★★★

Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

FIDDLER ON THE ROOF at Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre

★★★★★

“an electrifying mix of tradition and tragedy, with the flashes of humour searing through it like bolts of lightning”