★★★★

“This is a blazing production, burning with wit and charm, song and dance, and with a feelgood finale that is far hotter than a British summer”

We are officially in summer in a couple of days’ time, although it might not necessarily feel like it. But a couple of bars into the overture of Cole Porter’s classic, “Kiss Me, Kate” and the clouds disappear. We are instantly put in a good mood, unable to resist the warmth and the joie de vivre this sizzling and silly musical has to offer. Porter is on top form, complemented brilliantly by Sam and Bella Spewack’s book which adopts Shakespeare’s ‘play-within-a-play’ trick, taking its subterfuge to new heights.

Both ‘Taming of the Shrew’ and ‘Kiss Me, Kate’ have gathered accusations of misogyny over time, but if you look deeper, the bard and the songsmith are, in fact, championing women’s rights. And Bartlett Sher’s revival brushes off any remaining crumbs of sexism that may linger with this revival. The sheer force of the two leading ladies’ performances, of course, helps immensely.

The show opens with a curtain call. One that is being rehearsed for the opening night of ‘The Taming of the Shrew’. Fred (Adrian Dunbar), the egotistical director and producer, is starring as Petruchio while his ex-wife, Lilli (Stephanie J. Block), plays Katherine. The two bicker constantly, like Burton and Taylor on a bad day, yet Dunbar and Block effortlessly reveal the deep-seated, hidden love and affection they still hold for each other. The only casualty here is the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ dynamic – we just know from the off that they’ll eventually reconcile, despite Lilli being betrothed to a strait-laced, regimental General Harrison Howell (a delightful cameo from the underused Peter Davison).

Meanwhile Lois (Georgina Onuorah) and her gambling, misbehaving boyfriend, Bill (Charlie Stemp), are enjoying their own backstage tussles. Not least because there’s a thing going on between Lois and Fred. The shenanigans don’t stay in the green room, however, but are dragged kicking and screaming onto the stage, playing havoc with Shakespeare’s storyline. Throw in a couple of gangsters chasing a gambling debt (Hammed Animashaun and Nigel Lindsay), and the farce is complete.

It is a star-studded production, with an equally starry ensemble. Everyone has a moment to glow in the spotlight, yet nobody outshines anyone else. Each swing, and chorus member, portrays a well-defined, unspoken personality too. Anthony Van Laast’s choreography is stunning, not just visually but also in its storytelling, reaching its climax in the Act Two opener, ‘Too Darn Hot’, which elicited an ovation that finally had to be cut short by the performers themselves, worried that they might miss the last train home.

Matching the dancing skills are the vocal skills. Georgina Onuorah and Stephanie J. Block mix power with fragility, wit with emotion. Onuorah’s show-stopping ‘Always True to You in My Fashion’ is another highlight, while Block’s ‘So in Love’ is steeped in gorgeous torment. Slightly out of his depth, Adrian Dunbar reprises the number. He can hold a tune, for sure, but his vocal shortcomings do stand out against the sheer wall of virtuosity he is surrounded by. Dunbar’s own virtuosity is confined to his character acting and comic timing which is, indeed, spot on. Hammed Animashaun and Nigel Lindsay, on the other hand, are a double act with a triple threat, showcased by their superbly comic performance, and brilliant rendition of ‘Brush Up Your Shakespeare’.

Catherine Zuber’s costumes perfectly mirror the various elements of the show, mixing the eroticism of the backstage, sultry and sexy glamour with the onstage Elizabethan grandeur. Michael Yeargan’s revolving set seamlessly guides us through the stage door onto the stage, via the dressing rooms and back again. This is a blazing production, burning with wit and charm, song and dance, and with a feelgood finale that is far hotter than a British summer. While it’s definitely not too darn hot outside, inside the Barbican, it’s sizzling.

AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE at the Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★

“The performances are superb. Matt Smith, as Dr. Thomas, owns the stage.”

Before Henrik Ibsen even became a playwright, he was well known for his controversial, anti-establishment opinions. His early works, and poetry, revealed his rebellious nature as he challenged convention and criticised society. His dramatic works cut deeper into the darker side, holding up a mirror to human nature and its inherent hypocrisies. Inevitably he was met with divided opinion. “An Enemy of the People” was no exception, and Thomas Ostermeier’s modern adaptation (translated by Duncan MacMillan) looks set to be equally divisive.

Co-adapted by Florian Borchmeyer, the play’s structure is also two-sided; the interval acting as a sharp watershed between two very different landscapes, even though it overlooks the same, indeterminate, Middle England spa town. It opens with a song. The main players comprise a shaky, indie-folk-rock band, the initial conversations breaking away from the music then weirdly segueing into Bowie’s ‘Changes’. It is difficult to determine whether this subplot has a purpose, or whether it is a surreal contrivance, but it soon gets forgotten anyway. The music is definitely not their day job.

Dr. Thomas Stockmann is the chief medical officer at the town’s spa baths. He has discovered that the spa’s water is contaminated. Wanting to do all he can to alert the citizens he enrols newspaper hacks Hovstad and Billing to run the story in order to prevent the town being poisoned – possibly to death. He faces opposition in the shape of his brother Peter, the town mayor who sees the closure of the baths as the death knell to the town. There is tension too between Thomas and his wife Katharina, the local upstanding yet radical schoolteacher.

The dialogue bounces along breezily, occasionally bogged down with the earnestness of late-night-student-digs debates. Yet the writing recognises this pitfall and manages to pre-empt the charges and poke fun at itself. “You sound like an undergraduate” quips Thomas to Hovstad. The blackboard walls of Jan Pappelbaum’s set are strewn with pseudo-scholarly slogans, which are eventually whitewashed over – figurately and literally. The arguments that are dished up, however, are chillingly pertinent and so close to the bone that there isn’t enough skin left to make crawl.

The performances are superb. Matt Smith, as Dr. Thomas, owns the stage. A lone wolf howling at the moon, his single-mindedness streaked with a naivety and good intentions, while Jessica Brown Findlay’s Katharina stands by him, despite being constantly at the end of her tether. Shubham Saraf, as journalist Hovstad, feeds Thomas’ fervour, encouraging his crusade like Lady Macbeth. Is he after the truth, though, or just a good story? His own quest for the truth dissolves in the saliva from the Judas kiss he plants on Thomas. Fellow journo Billing is ultimately equally disloyal – Zachary Hart giving an outstanding performance as the comic foil. There is much humour too in Paul Hilton’s mayor, Peter. As smooth and slippery as an eel his words drip from his angular grimace. The naked face of capitalism and pragmatism that is all too familiar on our front pages. Katharina’s father, Morten Kill, is an imposing figure in Nigel Lindsay’s hands. Bizarrely an Alsatian dog is also in his hands, presumably a metaphor for the dark, shady, business-minded aspects of Kill’s character beneath the leftist veneer. The dog is too friendly and well behaved to pull it off, however. Conflicts of interest also plague Aslaksen, the newspaper’s publisher. Priyanga Burford brilliantly swings from devout, self-serving pragmatism to obsequious cowardice in a glorious deadpan and often funny performance.

The second act is a completely different beast. Much snappier and forceful, it is full to the brim with contemporary, post-Brexit, post-Covid references and up-to-the-minute echoes of modernist realpolitik. It rips down the fourth wall completely, inviting the audience into a ‘Question Time’ scenario. It is obvious there are some plants in the audience, but the effect is immediate and chilling. The real coup is Matt Smith’s tirade at the podium. Brilliantly and convincingly delivered. Smith is flawlessly believable, earning his ovation, whether one agrees with him or not.

A paint splattered transition leads us into the final, short act. The journey there has been almost as messy as the stage now is (I pity the backstage crew) but it has been swaggering, anarchic and fearless. And we are rewarded with an unexpected hook. In the course of the last two hours is has been difficult to decide whether Thomas is an enemy of the people or an enemy to himself. A final twist – a mere meeting of eyes – will help you decide.

Tag Archives: Nigel Lindsay

KISS ME, KATE

★★★★

Barbican

KISS ME, KATE at the Barbican

★★★★

“This is a blazing production, burning with wit and charm, song and dance, and with a feelgood finale that is far hotter than a British summer”

KISS ME, KATE at the Barbican

Reviewed on 18th June 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

LAY DOWN YOUR BURDENS | ★★★ | November 2023

KISS ME

KISS ME

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE

★★★★

Duke of York’s Theatre

AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE at the Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★

“The performances are superb. Matt Smith, as Dr. Thomas, owns the stage.”