★★★

“Gray O’Brien with his languid movement and rugged good looks gives a towering performance”

Co-writers Sir Ian Rankin and Simon Reade bring a new Rebus story to the stage. The deliberately claustrophobic-looking set (Terry Parsons) is a traditional dining room with a large table centre stage and two doors leading out, left and right, which stay almost permanently closed. The walls are crammed with framed oil paintings, all individually lit. A surfeit of table and wall lamps and a suspended chandelier exude a luscious creaminess (lighting Matthew Eagland). We are at the wine and whisky stage of an impressive dinner party and the guests have been playing a murder-mystery game. Clues are discussed and hypotheses shared. We hear mentions of ‘motive, method and means’ and it’s all delightfully intriguing. Director Loveday Ingram skilfully moves her actors around the stage, seating them in different ways to provide some variety within a fundamentally static setting.

I confess to never having read a Rebus novel or seen him on TV so I might have missed expected nuances inherent in his character, but Gray O’Brien with his languid movement and rugged good looks gives a towering performance of the newly retired police detective. Initially, he spends much of the time at a distance from the other guests, prowling in the background, observing. He breaks the fourth wall to speak to the audience of his ability to ‘read the room’, the trilling of his Scottish burr a joy to the ears.

There is a lot of backstory to get through before we can have the thrill of piecing together who might have it in for whom but there is no kitsch, the script is well-written, and there are some genuinely amusing one-liners. But this back story is predominantly concerned with characters we never see and it becomes an effort to follow. Just as in the murder-mystery game the dinner guests play, the initial excitement wears away and the truth, when it comes, is somewhat underwhelming.

The ensemble cast does what it can but all the characters bar Rebus don’t have much to work on and everyone generally underplays. There’s some uncertainty within the ensemble too, particularly at the start of the second act that stuttered in this performance, but it will all gain in fluency once the run (and UK tour) has established.

The party hostess Harriet (Teresa Banham) is almost transparent in the first act but comes to life in the second with a fine burst of nervous energy. Her husband Paul (Neil McKinven) rather goes the other way, showing fine bonhomie at the start before withdrawing from the later affray. Most regrettably, for the role could be a fine one, is Billy Hartman (Jack Fleming), a casino owner with a shady past but the performance lacks the flamboyance that might be expected from such a character. Then there is Billy’s trophy girlfriend Candida (Jade Kennedy) who, as a supposedly superficial ‘social influencer’, shines out above the mediocrity around her; and, lastly, former lawyer Stephanie Jeffries (Abigail Thaw) isn’t given much to say for herself but does a fine look of indignation and disgust.

With Ian Rankin co-writing, this seems like a missed opportunity for creating something better than an average whodunnit but the central role of John Rebus just about saves the play.

CALENDAR GIRLS at the The Mill at Sonning

★★★★

“Innocently raunchy and with a feelgood factor as comforting as home-made plum jam”

‘We’re not naked… we are nude!’. This distinction is a playful leitmotif that runs through the charmingly English comedy-drama, “Calendar Girls”. That the debate can follow seamlessly from a discussion on the history of broccoli, or sit comfortably next to the stoical last words of a dying cancer patient, is testament to Tim Firth’s writing. Based on a true story that caught the world’s attention in 1998, the film release in 2003 was a global hit too; inevitably followed by the stage version which made its way to the West End. Sally Hughes’ revival at The Mill at Sonning is faithful to every note and nuance of the original, retaining the fine balance of humour and sadness without giving in to schmaltz or slapstick.

The story chronicles a group of women, members of the WI in a Yorkshire village. Following the death of Annie’s (Natalie Ogle) husband John (Andrew Ryan), the ladies decide to buy a new sofa for the hospital that treated John during his last days using the proceeds from their yearly calendar. Desperate to find a way of increasing its sales they hit on the idea of spicing up its subject matter by photographing themselves performing typical WI activities (baking, gardening, playing the piano, knitting… and so on) but naked (sorry – nude!).

We are in an authentically rural landscape peopled by down to earth, self-mocking Yorkshire folk that Hughes’ cast present as the real thing. The scenes follow the months and seasons over a year. From the women’s initial resistance to stripping off, then relishing the idea, through to milking it for all its worth and ultimately providing a far grander memorial to John than they could ever imagine. Of course, along the way we witness the personal confrontations and mini dramas of these individuals as they grapple with their fears and desires.

“Kitty Harris and Dawn Perllman compliment the company with dual roles, adding further light and shade to an already dynamic production that gently gnaws at our emotions”

Imperious and snobbish Marie (a delightful Elizabeth Elvin) leads (or rather tries to lead) the ramshackle, sometimes subversive group of women. Debbie Arnold’s sassy Cora conceals her own insecurities behind rebellious, bluesy piano chords while Basienka Blake’s Celia wears hers as openly as her sex appeal and glamour. Natalie Ogle, as Annie, convincingly captures the emotions of a woman recently bereaved, clashing and reconciling with Rachel Fielding’s Chris – the ambitious matriarch who’s hard coating shields a heart of gold. Sarah Whitlock, as Jessie, has some of the juiciest lines, matched by Ciara Janson’s initially timid Ruth who ripens into a sauciness that equals the others’ gaiety and glee at baring all (well – nearly all).

Only have half of the year’s months are captured on camera for the calendar, which shortens the pivotal scene in which the women find ingenious ways of preserving their modesty when shell-shocked amateur (a hilarious Oscar Cleaver who doubles as cocksure TV lackey Liam) is roped in as official photographer. In fact, we mustn’t forget the men in this piece, who do in fact carry much of the emotional burden on their shoulders. Steven Pinder, as Chris’ neglected husband Rod, holds a fragile and tipsy veneer over his own lonely struggles while Andrew Ryan’s John short-lived role captures the sad deterioration of the cancer victim with a vulnerable strength.

Kitty Harris and Dawn Perllman compliment the company with dual roles, adding further light and shade to an already dynamic production that gently gnaws at our emotions. It paws rather than hits. We purr rather than laugh out loud and our eyes glass over rather than shed tears. There is a reserve that is quintessentially British and that is utterly fitting for this interpretation. Innocently raunchy and with a feelgood factor as comforting as home-made plum jam. A heart-warming tale of people coming together, layered with humour and topped with a creamy layer of poignancy.

REBUS: A GAME CALLED MALICE at the Cambridge Arts Theatre

★★★

“Gray O’Brien with his languid movement and rugged good looks gives a towering performance”

REBUS: A GAME CALLED MALICE at the Cambridge Arts Theatre followed by UK tour

Reviewed on 2nd September 2024

by Phillip Money

Photography by Nobby Clark

Previously reviewed at this venue:

REBUS

REBUS

CALENDAR GIRLS at the The Mill at Sonning

★★★★

“Innocently raunchy and with a feelgood factor as comforting as home-made plum jam”

“Kitty Harris and Dawn Perllman compliment the company with dual roles, adding further light and shade to an already dynamic production that gently gnaws at our emotions”

CALENDAR GIRLS at the Mill at Sonning

Reviewed on 20th April 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Andreas Lambis

Previously reviewed at this venue:

CALENDAR GIRLS

CALENDAR GIRLS