Tag Archives: Miriam Buether

SUNNY AFTERNOON

★★★½

UK Tour

SUNNY AFTERNOON

Theatre Royal Brighton

★★★½

“an engaging, if qualified, portrait of a band that never found harmony easily, onstage or off”

Sunny Afternoon tells the story of The Kinks largely on Ray Davies’s terms. With an original story by Davies, whose back catalogue provides the music and lyrics, and a book by Joe Penhall, the musical places Ray firmly at its centre. Other members of the original line-up are present, sometimes vividly so, but this is unmistakably Ray’s version of events, and that perspective shapes both the strengths and limitations of the show.

As with many subject-shaped biographical musicals, darker truths are smoothed over. Ray’s struggles with alcohol are mostly absent, while the band’s volatility is reduced to clashes between Dave and Pete. Ray appears the sensible, buttoned-up genius, Dave the reckless foil, simplifying a far messier reality and veering into myth-making.

Danny Horn plays Ray Davies as an introspective, guarded figure, a musical obsessive whose inwardness is most fully explored through his relationship with Rasa, played with warmth by Lisa Wright. By contrast, the rest of the band are drawn more broadly. Oliver Hoare’s Dave Davies is louche, volatile and impulsive, embodying the excesses of a sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle. Harry Curley brings a steady presence to Pete Quaife, though the character remains lightly sketched. Zakarie Stokes’ Mick Avory barely registers in the first act, and his extended drum solo at the start of Act Two feels more like compensation than character development.

Edward Hall’s direction is strongest when focusing on the band’s formation and search for a distinctive sound within the emerging 1960s music scene. The opening contrast between a tuxedoed, doo-be-dooing crooner and the raw energy of The Ravens (their early incarnation) is knowingly artificial but theatrically effective, clearly signalling the shift from the 1950s into the Swinging Sixties.

The narrative moves from the breakthrough of You Really Got Me through mounting domestic pressures for Ray and Rasa to the ill-fated US tour that led to a four-year ban. Back in Britain, Ray confronts depression and legal battles, while also mounting a determined creative resurgence.

The music is integrated in two ways: some songs operate in a musical theatre mode, articulating emotion or narrative shifts, including Dedicated Follower of Fashion as the band get their makeover and Rasa’s aching I Go to Sleep as she struggles alone with a newborn while Ray tours. Elsewhere, songs emerge through writing, rehearsing and recording, with the slow assembly of Waterloo Sunset carrying real anticipation.

There is an emphasis on the tension between creativity and commerce. The system itself becomes the antagonist, embodied by Grenville Collins and Robert Wace, played with affable ineptitude by Tam Williams and Joseph Richardson, and Larry Page (Alasdair Craig), forever doing his best as the grasping intermediary. Eddie Kassner, given a harder edge by Ben Caplan, emerges as the closest thing to a villain, emphasising how the band’s artistic ambition was constantly challenged by financial exploitation. The Moneygoround lands especially well here, naming names and exposing the machinery behind the scenes.

Miriam Buether’s striking three-sided wooden set, stacked with speakers, adapts fluidly to studios, homes and stages, with stars and stripes unfurled during the US tour. Costumes chart the band’s evolution from matching suits to greater individuality. The cast play their own instruments, supported by a small onstage band, lending credibility to the performance scenes.

The second act does run long. The drum solo and a cluster of melancholic moments between Ray and Rasa extend emotional beats that have already landed. As a jukebox musical, Sunny Afternoon occasionally struggles to reconcile musical theatre convention with the sharper edge of The Kinks’ songwriting.

Still, there is real pleasure here. Ray Davies wrote some extraordinary songs, witty, observant and socially alert, even if the show only partially explores that sharpness. Uneven and occasionally self-mythologising, Sunny Afternoon remains an engaging, if qualified, portrait of a band that never found harmony easily, onstage or off.



SUNNY AFTERNOON

Theatre Royal Brighton then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 17th December 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

 

SUNNY AFTERNOON

SUNNY AFTERNOON

SUNNY AFTERNOON

UNICORN

★★★★

Garrick Theatre

UNICORN

Garrick Theatre

★★★★

“Walker and Mangan are both wonderful in their roles, giving a natural performance that allows us to believe in everything they say”

The trigger warning in the publicity for Mike Bartlett’s new play, “Unicorn”, states that it ‘contains explicit content and scenes of a sexual nature, which some audience members may find intriguing’. A description that could be applied to the whole play. For it is, indeed, an intriguing and curious affair. Whether it’s an affair of the heart is debatable. ‘Debatable’ being the operative word – the flames of desire are often dowsed by too much discussion. Which is the crux. Bartlett is the master of dialogue and “Unicorn” mixes sharp humour with weighty matters; sometimes dark but lit up by its dazzling one-liners that are timed perfectly, even if the aim is a bit unsure of its target.

Polly (Nicola Walker) is having a drink with one of her writing students, Kate (Erin Doherty). The mutual attraction transcends the age gap and looks set to leap over the lecturer/student divide. The trouble is though, Polly is happily married to Nick (Stephen Mangan), and they share everything. Aha! Why not share the ‘girlfriend’ too. Kate is up for it. Cut to scene two in which Polly broaches the subject with Nick. The spark is supposed to have gone from their marriage, although it is hard to believe as the chemistry and affection between the couple are more than evident in their conversation and body language. Walker and Mangan are both wonderful in their roles, giving a natural performance that allows us to believe in everything they say. Nick is more reticent about the idea of a threesome but is spurred on by Polly’s persuasiveness, which is a neat segue into scene three – one of the highlights in which Nick meets Kate for the first time. Mangan’s beautifully portrayed awkwardness clashes with Doherty’s cheeky, Essex-accented bluntness. Our sympathies lie with the former.

The short scenes are punctuated with riffs of the old music hall song ‘Daisy Daisy (Bicycle Made for Two)’; a neat, tongue in cheek touch. Initially they are light and jazzy, slowly morphing into a more masculine, cockney version until a final punk arrangement points us in the direction of darker territory. Miriam Buether’s simple and stark sets place the action under an umbrella-like, fabric semi-dome. Yet it is the words that always speak louder than the action (a reverse of the old adage). There is very little action and by interval we are starting to wonder where it is all going.

The second act provides the answer, and some unexpected twists too. And with a more pronounced political metaphor leaking into the language the humour takes a bit of a back step. Time has moved forward, and the relationships have taken on a different dynamic. We find ourselves further losing sympathy with the character of Kate – the motif ‘bicycle made for two’ taking on more resonance. Doherty’s intricate portrayal captures this dichotomy excellently; torn between her arrogant, self-imposed right to be considered part of the family but up against decades of intimacy that the couple previously shared without her. It’s hard to fix a third saddle onto the bike.

Bartlett is tackling material that is not necessarily ground-breaking or new. But he does throw a couple of surprises at us. Cleverly constructed with ever-shortening scenes that shrink towards a quite poignant finale, it is nevertheless the execution (with credit to James Macdonald’s able direction) that truly carries the weight. A starry cast, yes, but stellar performances. They make a powerful and seductive threesome that we’d all like to jump into bed with. Metaphorically, of course!

 



UNICORN

Garrick Theatre

Reviewed on 13th February 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WHY AM I SO SINGLE? | ★★★★ | September 2024
BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF | ★★★ | June 2024
FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★ | March 2024
HAMNET | ★★★ | October 2023
THE CROWN JEWELS | ★★★ | August 2023
ORLANDO | ★★★★ | December 2022
MYRA DUBOIS: DEAD FUNNY | ★★★★ | September 2021

UNICORN

UNICORN

UNICORN