Tag Archives: Max Alexander-Taylor

CABLE STREET

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Southwark Playhouse Borough

CABLE STREET at Southwark Playhouse Borough

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“a good effort to remind the audience of the power of the people against malevolent political forces”

It’s not often that you get a musical written about your old street. As a previous resident of one of the roads leading off Cable Street, I’ve passed by the large mural commemorating the 1936 Battle of Cable Street numerous times without looking deeply into this symbol of mass resistance to fascism.

Now, in the model of Hamilton or Operation Mincemeat, writers Alex Kanefsky (book) and Tim Gilvin (music and lyrics) have pulled together a reflective show that uses song and dance to surface this lesser-known historic event. As in Hamilton, the music reflects a variety of cultures, with hip hop references layered on top of Jewish and Irish musical references. As in Operation Mincemeat, the fascists get arguably the best song.

For those who were not paying attention to their interwar British history, the Battle of Cable Street is so named after the road on which a patchwork army of Jewish, Irish, Socialist and Trade Union groups held back thousands of Oswald Moseley’s British Union of Fascists set on marching through what was then a predominantly Jewish area of East London. The musical interpretation uses the story of three families to explore just some of the hundreds of thousands in the motley coalition. The Battle of Cable Street has since become known as the day that fascism in Britain was defeated, and prevented it ever gaining a political hold on the country.

The show is framed by a modern day East End walking tour recounting this history, with an overbearing tourist from New York asking questions about her mother, once a local. This walking tour pops up in several scenes, either interrupting the events playing out in 1936, or contrasting with rival (and rather tasteless) Jack the Ripper tours that stomp the same cobbled streets.

 

 

If the stories of three families and two warring walking tours sounds like a few too many strands, you might be correct. At times the compact performance space of the Southwark Playhouse felt a little cramped; this worked well when presenting about the claustrophobic housing, and less so when trying to follow contrasting narratives. Actors playing instruments on stage to accompany the semi-concealed band also contributed to the cluttering of the space. Aoife Mac Namara’s fiddle made sense in the numbers with a gaelic undertone, but the electric guitar felt out of place.

The central playing space is surrounded on three sides by seating, with the back wall covered with haphazard wired and wooden fencing. On stage is a large bureau, two desks and chairs pushed against the back. These are regularly repositioned to create the different scenes, with the simplicity working well. On the whole, the set (Yoav Segal) and props were used effectively, except a very obviously homemade horse head used to represent a police cavalry came across as more Blue Peter than War Horse.

Of the 1936 events, Sha Dessi as Mairead Kenny, daughter of an Irish immigrant, drives the show forward with strong vocals and resolute determination. Dessi’s character has to balance fervent revolutionary zeal with a laundry list of responsibilities. She meets and falls for Sammy Scheinberg (Joshua Ginsberg), the rapping son of Jewish family living close who is struggling to find work. Similarly, Ron Williams (Danny Colligan) is a northerner from Lancashire who is also failing to find any work, but unlike Sammy who gets influenced by Mairead into coming along to communist meetings, Ron falls into the fascist embrace.

The ensemble cast was stuffed with talent, with supporting actors contending with multiple character changes. Debbie Chazen as the visiting New Yorker, Mairead’s Irish mother, and also a bumbling police officer was a standout, as was Jade Johnson whose solo Stranger / Sister was performed with sensitivity and power. Sophia Ragavelas who leads one of the strongest songs in the show – a rousing No Pasaran in the model of Les Miserables barricade scene – was also a highlight.

There are many things that work well with Cable Street, though ultimately it neither gets the high tension and deep emotion of Hamilton, or the tongue in cheek hilarity of Mincemeat. The ending is unsatisfactory – with a rush of events that threaten to derail the entire show and saved by the unveiling of a man who we already know isn’t dead. As a small point, the modern day East End is not well represented – there’s only one mention of the Bangladeshi community in passing (a 1978 murder) who have contributed so much to the area in the past 50 years.

Given the current political environment and rise of antisemitism across the UK, this is a good effort to remind the audience of the power of the people against malevolent political forces, featuring a strong selection of upbeat musical numbers. However, a little more restraint from director Adam Lenson, or a pruning of the dense narratives might have helped tell this important story a little better.


CABLE STREET at Southwark Playhouse Borough

Reviewed on 26th February 2024

by Rosie Thomas

Photography by Jane Hobson

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at Southwark Playhouse venues:

BEFORE AFTER | β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
AFTERGLOW | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | January 2024
UNFORTUNATE: THE UNTOLD STORY OF URSULA THE SEA WITCH A MUSICAL PARODY | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2023
GARRY STARR PERFORMS EVERYTHING | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | December 2023
LIZZIE | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2023
MANIC STREET CREATURE | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2023
THE CHANGELING | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | October 2023
RIDE | β˜…β˜…β˜… | July 2023
HOW TO SUCCEED IN BUSINESS … | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | May 2023
STRIKE! | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2023
THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2023
SMOKE | β˜…β˜… | February 2023

CABLE STREET

CABLE STREET

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The Lion

The Lion

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Southwark Playhouse

The Lion

Southwark Playhouse

Reviewed – 1st June 2022

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“impassioned and emotive vocal performance”

 

β€œIt’s a conversation.” Max Alexander-Taylor chats with audience members pre-show, sitting casually on empty seats, guitar in hand. He speaks, not as Benjamin Scheuer, the autobiographical character he plays, but as himself. These intimate moments prime the audience for a similar intimacy in performance: a three-quarter thrust in Southwark Playhouse’s The Little, the light from elegantly scattered shade-less lamps low and warm, a musical performance that is spoken as much as it is sung. This opening moment, however, also highlights the difficulty of reviving an autobiographical show with a new performer. The tension between actor and character remains nearly constant.

The Lion, a revival of the Drama Desk Award-winning 2014 folk musical, traces the story of Scheuer’s upbringing, his battle with cancer as a young man, and his coming to terms with an imperfect father. The narrative and character relationships are drawn through the constant motif and medium of folk music. The songs are thoughtful and specificβ€”a line about Scheuer’s first girlfriend writing corrections to the White House correspondent at the New York Times remains ringing in my mind. Key moments in the character’s life are marked by the introduction of a new guitar, all of which line the back wall of the stage. These guitar changes serve as an effective storytelling mechanismβ€”the electric guitar marks Benjamin’s burst into early adulthood, his final acoustic guitar is visually and sonically glossy, matching his personal triumph and maturation. The red guitar, however, which is introduced midway through the show, enters unaddressed. This break in convention takes away slightly from what is otherwise a narratively taught piece of theatre.

As the performance unfolds, Alexander-Taylor oscillates between disappearing into the character and narrating from outside of him. Instead of leaning into this tension, aside from the pre-show conversations, the performance attempts to gloss over it, which leads to a general unevenness. Alexander-Taylor’s disappearances, which become more frequent in the final leg of the performance, are quite compelling. The guitar work becomes both looser and more detailed, which is mirrored by his impassioned and emotive vocal performance. The earlier portions of the show would have benefitted from this looseness, though the directorial impulse of Alex Stenhouse and Sean Daniels to reign these moments in is understandable. The trade-off between clarity of langue and clarity of emotion can be difficult to manage, especially with verbose and narratively rich songs.

Emma Chapman’s lighting design is understated yet expressive. The exposed bulbs that litter the stage and audience alike glow and temper along with the emotional waves of the piece. A blue wash creates the impression of the dive bars in which Benjamin plays the angsty grunge and blues rock of his youth. A cool, harsh sidelight transports us to a moonlit cemetery. At the climax, light emanates from beneath the weathered wooden planks (set design Simon Kenny) that form the stage, filling the room.

While the tension between character and performer lends itself to narrative instability, The Lion does not want for technical prowess or pathos.

 

 

Reviewed by JC Kerr

Photography by Pamela Raith

 


The Lion

Southwark Playhouse until 25th June

 

Recently reviewed at this venue:
Operation Mincemeat | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | August 2021
Yellowfin | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2021
Indecent Proposal | β˜…β˜… | November 2021
The Woods | β˜…β˜…β˜… | March 2022
Anyone Can Whistle | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022
I Know I Know I Know | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2022

 

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