Tag Archives: Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

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Queen’s Theatre

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE at the Queen’s Theatre

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“pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story”

When Hanif Kureishi’s romantic comedy-drama film was released in 1985 it was swiftly hailed as being a mirror to society at the time, casting a sharp eye on London life in the height of the Thatcher years. It almost had too much to say, but the central focus – of the romance between Omar, a young Pakistani living in London, and street punk, neo-fascist Johnny – still managed to shine through. Kureishi’s adaptation for the stage holds onto that perspective while simplifying the surrounding complexities of race, class, and economic and social upheaval that defined the era.

We are definitely in 80s territory, with bursts of the Pet Shop Boys music linking the scenes, and misogyny and racism vying for supremacy against the cold, concrete backdrop of Grace Smart’s inspired set. The burgeoning romance from across the divide is echoed by Ben Cracknell’s lighting, throwing neon splashes of colour and hope against the bleak reality. This is a dog-eat-dog world in which a modern day, same-sex β€˜Romeo and Juliet’ attempt to defy the odds.

Omar (Lucca Chadwick-Patel) is a young British-Pakistani saddled with an alcoholic, disillusioned father (Gordon Warnecke) until brash, β€˜loadsamoney’ Uncle Nasser (Kammy Darweish) sets him to work managing his run-down laundrette. In a scuffle with a group of National Front lads, Omar spots old school chum Johnny (Sam Mitchell) who is adrift and hopelessly uncommitted to his Fascist tendencies. They join forces to add the eponymous adjective to the laundrette. The means are dubious, illegal and overflowing with compromise, yet amidst the subterfuge a passionate romance blossoms.

 

 

Despite Kureishi’s rich command of dialogue and monologue, Nicole Behan’s production removes a lot of the plausibility. And despite a strong cast, the collective performance removes most of the poignancy. An overall hesitancy to the acting dampens the dynamics and often strips the lines of feeling. There are exceptions, however, particularly in the second act, when Chadwick-Patel and Mitchell grab their chance to let their talents flicker as Omar confronts Johnny about his fascist past. A beautiful moment that concentrates the pathos, but we wish it could be more evenly distributed throughout the whole play.

Likewise, the inherent comedy is hovering in the wings, not quite brave enough to step onto the stage and announce itself in all its justified glory. As a result, the contrasting danger that underscores the narrative is weakened and it is sometimes difficult to differentiate the two. Johnny’s National Front sidekicks, while intentionally ridiculous, come across as boyish caricatures.

The play depicts an era, but sadly some of the issues are still with us, albeit in different forms in our age of social media. The production captures the essence of its time while still managing to feel contemporary. And the finale is uplifting, with a feel-good factor that pre-empts the progress society has made over the last four decades. That we still have some way to go is skilfully brought out in this production. However it can be argued that the show, too, has still some way to go to fulfil its promise.

It is pertinent and important, and a visually strong reimagining of an iconic and powerful story. The production values are high, but ultimately the stakes are low.


MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE at the Queen’s Theatre

Reviewed on 29th February 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Ellie Kurttz

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

WILKO | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | February 2024
THE WITCHFINDER’S SISTER | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2021

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

MY BEAUTIFUL LAUNDRETTE

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

 

WILKO

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Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch

WILKO at the Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch

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“The show doesn’t just lay down the facts. It is a well-informed celebration. A nostalgia trip that also looks forward as well as backwards”

β€œSometimes, if you’re lucky, you can tune into the ecstasy of life” declares John Wilkinson (more famously known as Wilko), bathed in the foggy orange glow of the Canvey Island oil refinery. Invariably Wilko was unlucky, yet he still managed to cling onto this ideology for dear life even – or rather especially – when it was slipping away from him. This is a man who bathes in the comfort of certainty; rejects religion and its tatty astrological and spiritual cast-offs in favour of science and creative pragmatism β€œbeing given twelve months to live is a great career move”. A rebel poet who never really grew up. An intellectual trapped in a chav’s body.

Jonathan Maitland’s biographical β€˜play with music’ goes some way to explaining the outside forces that mould such a contradictory character but doesn’t dig too deep. Using quotations from Wilko himself, mixed with his own dynamic prose and the inimitable sound of Dr. Feelgood, Maitland opts for a more entertaining and dramatic approach. It is both a tribute and a tribute act. Dugald Bruce-Lockhart’s staging is quite a mash-up of styles that, on paper, should never work. On the stage, however, in the hands of a quintet of actor/musos it creates a powerful and compelling piece of theatre.

Wilko famously stated that his terminal cancer made him feel alive. Johnson Willis’ portrayal of him pulses with the same vitality and energy, and uncanny attention to detail. The roughcast Estuary drawl is as full of Shakespeare quotes as expletives and his tantrums burn with misunderstood indignation. If Willis has a strong grasp of the personality, he nails the physicality and musicianship; pacing around the stage with eyes like searchlights, his jerking head movements in time to the stark, percussive chords of his guitar, wielded like a machine gun. Willis’ star turn is matched by Jon House’s Lee Brilleaux – the band’s frontman – who died of cancer at the age of 41. We witness the bitter personality clash and arguments that broke up the band in the late seventies. In Maitland’s narrative they even extend beyond the grave as Brilleaux returns like Marley’s ghost, ultimately leading to a spectral reconciliation. House multiroles, as do the other cast members, displaying versatility and sleight of hand costume changes. David John, when not behind the drum kit brilliantly adopts many personas, as does Georgina Field, who predominantly convinces as bassist β€˜Sparko’ with a persuasive, gender-swapped portrayal and stage presence.

“The cast excel at reproducing the Dr. Feelgood sound”

The love of Wilko’s life, Irene Knight, left him a widower a decade before his own cancer diagnosis. Georgina Fairbanks is no wallflower, and she presents a steely Irene, evoking how much she meant to Wilko and how much her untimely death – also from cancer – shaped the musician’s outlook on life. Not so successful are earlier flashbacks to Wilko’s childhood which hint at domestic violence and emotional abuse.

The show doesn’t just lay down the facts. It is a well-informed celebration. A nostalgia trip that also looks forward as well as backwards. Thankfully lacking in sentimentality there is still much pathos. And more than its fair share of humour. We drift in and out of reality as we shift from designer Nicolai Hart-Hansen’s hospital room backdrop to Thames Estuary skyline, to rehearsal room, to stage. The switch from dialogue to music is seamless too. The cast excel at reproducing the Dr. Feelgood sound, complete with the rough edges that β€œdidn’t just usher in Punk, but fucking invented it!” as Wilko would say.

It is fitting that the show concludes with an encore rather than a curtain call. After some gorgeous, slightly surreal moments, including a beautiful a Capella rendition of Leadbelly’s β€˜Goodnight Irene’ at Irene Knight’s funeral, the dry ice billows from the stage and the cast launch into a trio of upbeat, uplifting, foot stomping numbers. The band are in full swing, replicating the huge feelgood factor of Dr. Feelgood with staccato precision and virtuosity – particularly House’s impressive blues harp playing.

β€œDeath gives me a technicolour gaze” hollers Wilko. This company give a technicolour performance. The filmmaker, Julian Temple, described Wilko Johnson as β€˜one of the great English eccentrics, a great national treasure waiting to be discovered’. Jonathan Maitland’s β€œWilko” is its own little treasure. Well worth discovering.


WILKO at the Queen’s Theatre Hornchurch

Reviewed on 7th February 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Sepple


Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE WITCHFINDER’S SISTER | β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2021

WILKO

WILKO

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page