“John Dagleish embodies Spike Milligan in a memorably empathetic way”
This tribute to the comedy legend Spike Milligan is the work of ‘Private Eye’ editor Ian Hislop and his colleague and friend Nick Newman. It coincides with the 20th anniversary of the death of this renowned writer of the BBC’s anarchic radio comedy show ‘The Goon Show’, which ran from 1951 to 1960.
Many under the age of 45 will be barely aware of Milligan, who as Stephen Fry, in the guise of a BBC announcer, points out at the end of the show, was comedic gold for generations that followed him. ‘The Goon Show’ was a brilliantly disruptive success for the Corporation, even if the managers there didn’t quite understand it. It remains available online to this day.
There are jokes and madcap nonsense by the box load in this warm and affectionate play which grew out of a reading of the extensive and argumentative correspondence between Milligan and the BBC. Spike discovered the BBC was run by the same officer class he’d resented in wartime. Why, he wanted to know, was the writer of the show paid a fraction of that given to the ‘talent’ Harry Secombe and Peter Sellers? And what was wrong with poking fun at royalty?
The play is structured as a loose series of chronologically arranged scenes beginning with the very early days of ‘The Goon Show’, just six years after the end of the Second World War. The BBC was male-dominated then. By way of balance, Margaret Cabourn-Smith opens the show as the likeably goofy sound effects girl who like her colleague the Head of Drama’s Secretary, ‘will some day run the place’.
Robert Mountford is the entertainingly preening BBC executive who is quick to give Spike a dressing down that flips him to the nightmares of wartime. John Dagleish embodies Spike Milligan in a memorably empathetic way. He has the look of Spike, who he imagines as a troubled and inward looking outsider, still fighting a war at the BBC.
Jeremy Lloyd gives an excellent impersonation of the young Harry Secombe and the trio of Goons is completed by George Kemp (of Bridgerton) as a suave and smooth-talking Peter Sellers. James Mack gives a tour-de-force performance as the harried Director of ‘The Goon Show’. Ellie Morris memorably plays Spike’s inevitably long-suffering wife, June, as well as other roles.
‘Spike’ is probably at its best in the second half when we see a Goon Show being recorded. If the ending of the play was slightly unexpected (and there was no ‘Ying Tong iddle-i-po’!), it was hard to imagine how else to bring down such a hugely entertaining show.
Spike Milligan once joked that he’d be remembered as the man who ‘wrote the Goons and then died’. This show is an enjoyable celebration of his life’s work and a feast of nostalgic fun that will delight audiences of all ages.
“The full cast of eleven are in fine voice, supported by the rich string arrangements of the music”
Louisa May Alcott’s novel “Little Women”, originally published in two separate volumes in the 1860s, was said to be one of the first visions of the ‘All-American Girl’. It was hailed as being ahead of its time, and as such has stood the test of time. Continuously in print, with many film and television adaptations under its belt, it finally made it into musical form at the beginning of this century, opening on Broadway in 2005. Today’s audiences might not find the scenario unduly innovative, but it is its charm and endearing representation of the multi-layered personalities that draw you into the story. And Bronagh Lagan’s staging at the Park Theatre has charm in abundance.
The ’Little Women’ are the four March sisters: Amy, Beth, Meg – and Jo steering them through the treacherous subplots of growing up. The rites of passage are brilliantly navigated here by the strong cast that give a passionate portrayal of the inevitable loss of innocence when childhood and womanhood overlap. This is also one of its only snags, though, particularly in the first half when the characters’ young ages jar slightly with the on-stage physicality. But that minor moan is swiftly swept away as we get caught in the current of song and story.
The story focuses on the sisters’ differences. Amy is the baby, yearning for sophistication that’s out of reach. Selfless Beth is timid and musical. Meg, the eldest, is the most traditional, while Jo burns with a determined passion, struggling to find her place in the world. Allan Knee’s book pushes Jo centre stage, whose fiery energy Lydia White captures marvellously, while her theatrical generosity allows the others to shine too. Mary Moore is a bundle of joy as the young Amy, Anastasia Martin is ultimately heart-breaking as the tragic Beth and Hana Ichijo deftly mixes romanticism and pragmatism of the oldest sister Meg in probably the most difficult personality to portray. Savannah Stevenson’s charisma rules the roost as the matriarchal Marmee; a compellingly watchable performance that comes into its own during her two solo numbers.
The full cast of eleven are in fine voice, supported by the rich string arrangements of the music. Whilst Jason Howland’s score never takes your breath away, the sumptuous melodies and Mindi Dickstein’s plot driving lyrics add stirring layers to the narrative. A story that is intercut with vignettes from Jo March’s mostly unpublished attempts at writing. We long for everything to work out for these far from little women, we feel the joy when it does, and our senses are tugged when it doesn’t.
The humour and the pathos are captured in equal measure. You want to laugh, and you sometimes want to cry. It doesn’t rock you to the core but on a cold evening as winter fast approaches it will certainly warm you with the glow of its captivating charm.
