Tag Archives: Theatre Royal Windsor

WILKO

★★★★★

UK Tour

WILKO

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★★★

“scrupulously well-informed and intelligently performed”

“When you’re facing the end, you come back to the beginning” declares Wilko Johnson (Johnson Willis) in his instantly recognisable, vowel-stretching Estuary drawl. A sentiment that informs Jonathan Maitland’s biographical ‘play with music’ about the guitarist whom film-maker Julian Temple described as ‘one of the great English eccentrics, a great national treasure waiting to be discovered’. It does, indeed, begin at the end with Wilko’s terminal cancer diagnosis (“a great career move” he quips) before rewinding to a sixteen-year-old John Wilkinson rebelling against an abusive father whilst coveting a black and red Fender Telecaster in the local music shop window. It was his childhood sweetheart, Irene Knight (Lara Lemon), who stumped up the cash to pay for the guitar. They later married, and it is this poignant yet troubled love story, running parallel to Wilko’s own narrative, that compellingly lifts the show from the clutches of docudrama into a nostalgic celebration. Lacking in sentimentality, “Wilko: Love and Death and Rock ‘n’ Roll” is scrupulously well-informed and intelligently performed, turning the facts into myth.

“It’s not a musical”, Wilko is at pains to establish. It is an “illustrated monologue”. There is more than a hint of self-deprecation and irony in Willis’ eye as he mockingly describes the evening’s structure. He treats the audience as a collective confidante, regaling us like old Canvey Island mates with his tales and philosophies, before jack-knifing back into the drama. He is surrounded by the cast depicting his fellow band members from Dr Feelgood, who are all equally adept at adopting other roles at the kick of a drum. In fact, we are a fair way into the show before we’re treated to the pivotal moment of the seventies, when Dr Feelgood “didn’t just usher in Punk, but fucking invented it!” (Wilko’s words). First, we learn a bit about the man of many contradictions, who pulses with opposites; quoting Shakespeare and Wordsworth in between the expletives, who rejects religion in favour of science, who sees the Mississippi Delta in the Thames Estuary. Who, in life, reconciles undying love and devotion to his infidelity and – in the face of death – manages to bring together Nirvana to Hades. The man who, having played the last notes of the last song of his final farewell gig, is granted a new lease of life.

Director Dugald Bruce-Lockhart’s staging is subconsciously ingenious, predominantly set against Nicolai Hart-Hansen’s rehearsal room backdrop, which morphs into a Camden music venue, an operating theatre, a working-class living room or the glowing Essex skyline with the aid of James Stokes’ lighting. The jumps back and forward in time are easy to follow, as are the many characters that the cast portray. Jon House has the charisma, voice and musicality to bring Dr Feelgood’s frontman, Lee Brilleaux, back to vivid life. David John, when not at the drumkit as ‘Big Figure’ (real name, John Martin) convincingly adopts many personas. Georgina Field is equally persuasive as ‘Sparko’ with her gender-swapped portrayal of the bassist who helped shape the raw rhythm and blues style sound of the band. Meanwhile Willis fully embraces the physicality and musicianship of Wilko; pacing and wide-eyed, wielding his guitar like a sniper.

But it’s not only about Dr Feelgood. That’s just part of the story. Wilko left the band in 1977. The conflicts with Brilleaux that led to the split are effectively dramatized, even extending beyond the grave. House, dressed in white, visits the redemptive Wilko, like Marley’s ghost. A reconciliation of sorts verges on the maudlin, but we are quickly brought back down to earth with more of Wilko’s pragmatic but poetic perspective. Our hearts truly ache at his sense of loss for Irene, whose own tragic death preceded his by a decade. Lara Lemon is a feisty Irene, often a fifth member of the band in spirit, but always the unwavering other half of Wilko.

Maitland’s play has been doing the rounds now for nearly three years after premiering at the Queen’s Theatre in Hornchurch in 2024. Wilko himself had sadly passed away before opening night, but he was instrumental in the creative process. But only in the sense that he endorsed pretty much all that Maitland had written. The appalling behaviour, the infidelities and the selfishness went unchallenged apparently: Wilko was always the first to admit his shortcomings. It was the rest of the world that acknowledged his genius (when he presented Elton John with a GQ magazine ‘Genius’ award, Elton gave it back to him saying “You’re the fucking genius here”). “Wilko: Love and Death and Rock ‘n’ Roll” corroborates the fact. It is fitting that there is no curtain call. Instead, an encore. Leaving us wanting more. “You don’t have to live forever” declared Wilko, borrowing another literary phrase to illustrate his own outlook; “You just have to live”. His legacy certainly lives on in this portrait of a life certainly lived to the full.



WILKO

Theatre Royal Windsor then UK Tour continues

Reviewed on 5th October 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Nick Haeffner

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WILKO REVIEW

WILKO

WILKO

WILKO

THE ANASTASIA FILE

★★★

UK Tour

THE ANASTASIA FILE

Theatre Royal Windsor

★★★

“solid and captivating”

Anna Anderson (born Franziska Schanzkowska in 1896) famously claimed to be the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna – the youngest daughter of Nicholas II, the last Tsar of Russia. The fact that she was supposed to have been murdered, along with the rest of the whole family, by Bolshevik revolutionaries cast doubt on her claim, but she stood her ground until the end. It was only after her death that DNA evidence proved once and for all that there was no match, and none of the Tsar’s daughters survived the massacre. This is no spoiler; Royce Ryton’s 1978 play “The Anastasia File” was also written before this, and consequently the conclusion is left open.

The play begins in 1920, when a young woman is pulled from a canal following a failed attempt to take her own life. Deeply troubled and apparently suffering from memory loss, she is placed in an institution while doctors and the police try to establish who she is. Convincingly portrayed by Jenny Seagrove, the woman is initially fearful of any human communication or contact, but as she is slowly and carefully coaxed out of her trauma-induced silence, clues are uncovered that suggest she is much more than she appears to be. It is evident that she is highly educated, fluent in many languages, well connected and privileged. And she possesses much intimate knowledge of the Romanov family that an outsider wouldn’t have. The authorities take her seriously, as do certain relatives of the Tsar’s family; but opinions repeatedly change throughout the play. The audience follow these shifts like a crowd on the centre court at Wimbledon. Is her memory true, or is she just an extremely skilled imposter?

Crucial to Ryton’s interpretation of the saga is the fact that an awful lot of money is at stake. If Anastasia can prove who she really is, there is a huge gold deposit in England waiting for her, left there as an inheritance by the Tsar. Two alleged aunts who visit her in the sanitorium initially recognise her as the daughter, although on discovering this goldmine rapidly change their minds and throw her identity into doubt. Rosie Thomson plays both with a mix of gravity and humour, in addition multi-rolling as various nursemaids and ancillary staff. Ashley D. Gayle adopts many characters too, switching accents and personalities with confidence and panache. Simon Shepherd is the leading investigator, and Anastasia’s closest ally. The chemistry between Seagrove and Shepherd propels the narrative, but doesn’t always lift it into the air, while the mystery never truly grips in director Roy Marsden’s wordy and static staging. The second act picks up the pace as the two protagonists become more animated, but the increase in momentum leads to a slight glossing over of her later years.

The lack of theatricality is mirrored in the sparse set. There is minimal clutter, which does allow the narrative to take centre stage. The story is fascinating in itself, but the performers seem to be relying on this intrinsic interest, rather than using the collective talent on stage to draw us in. It is a demanding play that requires close attention to the words, and we are told a lot and shown little. Shepherd captures well, however, the mix of loyalty and scepticism that his character commands, while Seagrove seizes on moments of aching vulnerability that lie beneath a veneer of arrogance and stubbornness.

We are left to make up our own minds. Even if we know the historical facts of the outcome, the show still manages to end on a question mark, which ultimately makes for an intriguing evening. We are given both sides of the story, with no verdict. After show conversations are divided but subdued; a fair reflection of the play itself that lacks tension in an otherwise solid and captivating drama.

 



THE ANASTASIA FILE

Theatre Royal Windsor

Reviewed on 30th September 2026

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Simon Vail

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE ANASTASIA FILE

THE ANASTASIA FILE

THE ANASTASIA FILE