Tag Archives: The Old Vic

MARTIN GUERRE

★★★

The Old Vic

MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

★★★

“The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving”

They say that a musical is never truly finished. Any form of dramatic entertainment will change through workshops, regional runs, transfers and previews, but a musical work will often reappear years later with radical changes, cuts, additions and rewrites. Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg’s “Martin Guerre” was first staged in 1996 and has since been through many revisions. The current revival has brought Annabel Mutale and Paul Hodge on board contributing new lyrics, with the formidable director and writer Matthew Warchus lending his capable hands to reshape the material. It is a much shorter, and more pared down, theatrical performance from the creators’ most famous spectacle – ‘Les Misérables’ – but there are hints of the extravaganza it could become with the jostling crowd scenes, ensemble flag waving, dramatic orchestral sound and historical French setting (even though the accents seem to be running around the Yorkshire Moors somewhere).

Played in the round, there appears to be a lot going on. But if you pick away at the flesh, the bones of the story beneath are quite brittle. Martin Guerre is chosen for an arranged marriage to Bertrande but is bizarrely driven out of town by mob rule for failing to sleep with his wife (she doesn’t fare much better either). Martin seeks solace on the battlefield for seven years before returning to a hero’s welcome. But all is not what – or more crucially who – it seems to be. Set in the 16th century and inspired by true events, there are elements of witchcraft, lynch law, superstition and patriarchy in a male dominated society. The current iteration of the show, however, shifts more focus onto Bertrande, placing her more firmly in the spotlight. Liv Andrusier is a spirited Bertrande who seems to know much more than she is letting on. In more ways than one, the husband who returns to her seven years later is not the man he used to be, but we never really discover how complicit Bertrande is to the story’s central premise of stolen identity.

To those unfamiliar with the narrative, much of the opening twenty minutes can be bewildering and not a little confusing. Not enough time seems to be spent on building the characterisation, which makes for a less compelling experience. Sung through, some of the lyrics are lost in the mix during the ensemble numbers, yet when the lead performers break into the solo numbers, the effect is quite magnificent. ‘Someday’ is a highlight, demonstrating Andrusier’s powerful yet wistful voice. The band, under Matthew Jackson’s musical direction, drive the musical throughout at a steady pace, with elements of folk and madrigal cutting through Tom Curran’s lush orchestration.

But overall, there is little to grasp onto emotionally, despite pockets that do bring us to the edge of our seat; particularly the moment when Bertrande, presented with a ‘Sophie’s Choice’ kind of dilemma, has to decide, and prove to the court, who her husband truly is. The programme credits two of the cast (Alex James-Hatton and Shane O’Riordan) to the role of Martin Guerre, but in the course of the evening we learn otherwise. Meanwhile, Barney Wilkinson’s Guillame tries to be one step ahead as the jealous villain of the piece whereas it is, in fact, Colin Ryan’s village idiot – Benoit – who really has the answers.

The performances are uniformly strong and the singing quite magical and moving. Yet the dramatic and symphonic presentation doesn’t hide the fact we leave with unanswered questions. At just ninety minutes, motivation and context get short shrift. We need more individual connection and background to understand better why the villagers behave the way they do. It is gripping in its own way, but it is neither epic, nor does it quite have the intimacy of a love story. For a show that deals principally with identity, it is still in search of its own (which is the main crux of this semi-staged, preview production). With Schönberg’s quite beautiful score the solution can’t be far away. But as they say: a musical is never truly finished.


MARTIN GUERRE

The Old Vic

Reviewed on 20th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Helen Maybanks

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

MARTIN GUERRE

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

★★★★★

Old Vic

A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

★★★★★

“an evening of pure magic”

You could argue (and many people do) that the run up to Christmas gets earlier and earlier each year. No sooner have the pumpkins rotted and the fake cobwebs blown away from the city’s hedgerows, than the festive lights are switched on and Santa dominates the shop window displays. We utter ‘Humbug’ in disapproval and complain about rampant commercialism, while inwardly allowing the child in us a little bit of excitement. There is always a watershed, though, after which we can openly embrace the festive season without shame; and over the years one of them has become opening night of the Old Vic’s “A Christmas Carol”. It may still be November, but the annual event in Waterloo is now as traditional as mince pies. The spirit of Christmas is officially declared in our capital. And Old Marley is dead as a door nail.

Tradition rules in what is a faithful, but inspired, telling of Charles Dickens’ ‘ghostly little book’. Originally written in five staves it seems to be inviting a musical underscore, which Christopher Nightingale more than excels in providing. From the opening (and closing) handbell ringing through to the filmic strings and reeds, not to mention the chorale harmonies of the cast – dubbed ‘singing creatures’ by Scrooge. The ensemble cast also double up as a kind of chorus, in Victorian black and stove pipe hats, giving us stylised and choreographed snippets of Dickens’ evocative prose to link the staves of the story.

Central to the story, obviously, is old Ebenezer Scrooge. This year John Simm wears the cloak with an easy assurance. Not so much fearsome but more brooding. Beneath the initial rancour, one can glimpse a sensitivity that Simm brings that could almost excuse his forbidding nature; amplified by the flashbacks to his childhood at the hands of an abusive, debt-ridden father (an impressive Mark Goldthorp, who doubles as Marley’s ghost). Forgiveness and hope are essential strands in the narrative, and we understand how those hard done by, at Scrooge’s hand, manage to keep hold of this precarious quality. Juliette Crosbie’s Belle encapsulates this with a sharp and, at times, heart-rending portrayal of Scrooge’s lost love.

The three ghosts of ‘past’, ‘present’ and ‘yet-to-come’ are more mischievous than menacing in their matching patchwork cloaks. With the quality of a Shakespearian fool, they each lay open the painful truth Scrooge has spent a lifetime avoiding. In Jack Thorne’s imaginative adaptation, Scrooge’s little sister, Fan (Georgina Sadler) who died in childbirth, haunts him as the ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. An impassioned dialogue over Scrooge’s own coffin is a deeply moving moment. Our hearts break at other times, too. When Scrooge watches himself as a young boy he wistfully proclaims, “I don’t want him to become me”. A pause. “I want him to love”. Those simple four words are a pivotal point, the epiphanic moment that assures us he has reached the turning point. From then on, our own spirits are lifted to the roof; accompanied perfectly by the music that slowly swells from a plaintive a cappella solo voice to a sumptuous choir. Cut to black. A few seconds of pure and thick silence, and we are back in the present.

We are constantly and fully immersed in the story, whether sitting in the balcony, alongside the thrust of the playing space, or even on the stage itself. Director Matthew Warchus makes full use of the auditorium, resulting in a theatricality that cannot be faulted. Sparse yet evocative, we feel we are on the cobbled streets outside, with Rob Howell’s empty door frames made solid by Simon Baker’s ingenious sound design. Hugh Vanstone’s lighting is the icing on the cake (the brandy on the pudding) that adds the final magical flourishes. Simm’s transformation of character on Christmas morning is filled with a boyish ecstasy – a joy that we share watching this production. It is an evening of pure magic. Momentarily, the show slips out of character and flirts with pantomime – complete with chutes of sprouts and a low-flying turkey on a zip-wire. But the enchantment is swiftly restored. Joyous, evocative, atmospheric and spirited, “A Christmas Carol” is a tradition that has survived the past and will live long into the future. The Old Vic’s seasonal offering joins that tradition – and is the perfect Christmas present.

 


A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the Old Vic

Reviewed on 20th November 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

THE REAL THING | ★★★★ | September 2024
MACHINAL | ★★★★ | April 2024
JUST FOR ONE DAY | ★★★★ | February 2024
A CHRISTMAS CAROL | ★★★★★ | November 2023
PYGMALION | ★★★★ | September 2023

A Christmas Carol

A Christmas Carol

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