Tim Bird Archives - thespyinthestalls.com

★★★

“We do also feel light footed and energised such is the fun factor of the production, which boasts an impressive line-up of performers”

The overriding feeling coming out of the theatre having just witnessed “Close-Up: The Twiggy Musical” is of wanting to find the nearest police station to report a missing person. There was once an award-winning author, playwright, comedian, satirist, social commentator, observationist – with an astute and sharp mind. His name is credited in the programme as the writer, but there appears to be little trace of Ben Elton’s involvement, except for a sweeping pastiche of his trademark style here and there. We wonder if he passed the task onto a lazy sixth-former. And then we wonder how the book would have made it through the first week of rehearsals without being questioned by the director… oh hang on – Elton is the director.

Maybe ‘overriding feeling’ is a bit harsh. We do also feel light footed and energised such is the fun factor of the production, which boasts an impressive line-up of performers. It is quite a whirlwind tour of the back story of one Lesley Hornby with a few stopovers at certain landmarks on the way. Much of Twiggy’s life story is already known, but here the chain of events rewinds further still – to her parents meeting in the thirties, surviving the London Blitz and some choice moments of Twiggy’s childhood and schooldays. A retrospective, predominantly narrated by Elena Skye who personifies the iconic image we have of Twiggy, even though the character is reminiscing from today’s perspective.

We witness the professional and the personal. Her serendipitous discovery and rise to fame as a teenage model, her ill-fated relationship with the controlling and self-aggrandising boyfriend/manager, Justin de Villeneuve. Her parent’s support throughout her career, her mother’s depression. Her success on stage and screen, her shadowy moments locked in marriage to the alcoholic screen-star, Michael Whitney. The facts are fascinating and revealing. Many well-known areas are covered but there are insights into the dark corners too, all illuminated by the strong supporting cast and ensemble. Justin de Villeneuve is given a particularly hard time, which Matt Corner takes on with a cheeky, mocking self-deprecation. Darren Day’s self-destructive Whitney has moments of poignancy, which are manifested most strongly in song. The two stand outs are Hannah-Jane Fox and Steven Serlin as Nell and Norman Hornby respectively – Twiggy’s mum and dad.

“Elena Skye certainly knows how to put a song across, and the ensemble numbers are striking”

There is far too much unnecessary cross referencing of the ‘then and now’. Yes, we all know it was ‘different times’ then. The only refreshing twist on this conceit is when the father quips: ‘The show must go on. That’s what they say. Well, at least they did back then’. In that short remark we get a glimpse of the subtle insight that Elton is capable of, with what is a real and relevant indictment of the changing attitudes and their current effects on the theatre industry. But overall, Elton is thrusting over simplified lessons on socio-economic history at us, while glibly exploring issues such as alcoholism or post-natal depression. There is a positively surreal song and dance routine while Nell is receiving electroconvulsive treatment. And then suddenly we find ourselves in a fifties style episode of ‘Grange Hill’.

Despite racing through the song list like an extended medley of hits, there are moments where poignancy can show itself through the musical refrains. Elena Skye certainly knows how to put a song across, and the ensemble numbers are striking. The repertoire is pretty suitable on the whole, with only a few numbers showing the bruises from the shoehorn Elton is so keen on using. Some key cultural moments are glossed over while some are given too much airtime. And two and a half hours in we are suddenly offered a rapid ‘summing up’. Followed by an upbeat song and dance number.

The show does indeed end on a high that is greeted with a standing ovation. They say, ‘don’t kick someone when you’re down’. There is much to fault in this musical but, hey – the show can handle all the flak. It’s a sure-fire hit. And why not? It’s a brilliantly executed five-star show; with top-notch production values, wonderful performances, and a juke-box full of fabulous music. Just a preposterous one-star book.

Brian and Roger – A Highly Offensive Play

Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed – 1st November 2021

★★★★★

“scales the dizzy heights of funny”

“Brian & Roger”, that carries the subtitle a ‘Highly Offensive Play’, opens the Menier Chocolate Factory’s new smaller space, The Mixing Room. It is a world premiere, but its seeds were planted back in 2014 when the writers, Dan Skinner and Harry Peacock, created the characters for a podcast series. “We had no idea if anybody would listen or care” Skinner recently said. Thankfully they did, and it is to theatreland’s immense benefit that the eponymous characters have now made it to the stage.

Firstly. It is not highly offensive. It is ‘highly’ many things though; highly charged, highly outrageous, highly shocking, highly unprincipled, highly shameless and above all it scales the dizzy heights of funny. The ideas are far-fetched, but you’d travel the earth to keep up with them. The premise is bleak but don’t let that put you off. Brian and Roger are two friends (assume a very loose definition of the word ‘friend’) who met at a support group for recently divorced men. Roger was attending because he was genuinely grieving the loss of his marriage; Brian was instructed to attend by his solicitor if he wanted to dodge paying alimony to his ex-wife. Roger needs guidance and support, which Brian willingly supplies, exploiting Roger’s vulnerability to the extreme. Roger is continually coerced into making bad decisions. Played by Skinner himself, it is a brilliant and hilarious portrayal of a man sinking into the depths of humiliation and injury, with a Panglossian gullibility and belief in the deplorable Brian’s intentions. Simon Lipkin is equally sensational as the hard-nosed but similarly desperate Brian who has found the perfect stooge in Roger. Never has such an unlikeable character been so… well… likeable.

We don’t witness the odd couple’s first meeting. In fact, we never see them together at all. The entire piece is played out on their phones – leaving messages for each other. There is one exception – although we still don’t ‘see’ them together as the scene takes place in a complete blackout. I shall reveal no more except to say that it is a brilliantly darkly funny episode.

Darkness is the key. The humour couldn’t be blacker as Skinner and Lipkin chase the extremes of comedy. It gets progressively more outlandish, as do the peripheral unseen characters who nevertheless loom large over the action, whether it is the octogenarian woman whose sofa Roger lives on, the students Brian is forced to shack up with; the ex-wives, the dominatrices, and gangsters. Even a Mongolian mule named after Roger’s wife! Belief is persistently stretched to breaking point by the sheer outrageousness of the plot. At the same time our laughter lines are stretched even further.

David Babani’s direction is slick, with many neat ideas. It is clear that he has worked closely with his design team. Paul Anderson’s lighting conveys mood and location with the flamboyant touch of a mad professor, brilliantly complemented by Timothy Bird’s projected backdrops. Robert Jones’ design is centred around the drab community meeting room where the pair met. Ingeniously and quirkily though, the play is never set there. Instead, the furnishings and video projections are used to convey – among other bizarre settings – an S&M basement, a hospital ICU, train carriages, taxi cabs, a rugged Eastern European Mountain village, abattoirs, Safari parks, airports… you name it. And to say that the use of props is out of the box is a bit of an understatement. The whole combination, topped off with Gregory Clarke’s soundscape, verges on the surreal.

As preposterous as the storyline is, we are somehow still anchored in real life by the sheer natural flow of Harry Peacock and Dan Skinner’s writing. On paper, the idea of spending two hours watching two sad men talk into their phones sounds like torture. But we are rapt. Skinner and Lipkin are stunning. “Brian & Roger – A Highly Offensive Play”: the idea that one wouldn’t want to see it is more offensive.

CLOSE UP – THE TWIGGY MUSICAL at the Menier Chocolate Factory

★★★

“We do also feel light footed and energised such is the fun factor of the production, which boasts an impressive line-up of performers”

“Elena Skye certainly knows how to put a song across, and the ensemble numbers are striking”

CLOSE UP – THE TWIGGY MUSICAL at the Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed on 28th September 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Close Up

Close Up

Menier Chocolate Factory

Reviewed – 1st November 2021

★★★★★

“scales the dizzy heights of funny”

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Nobby Clark

Brian and Roger – A Highly Offensive Play

Menier Chocolate Factory until 18th December

Show reviews you may have missed in October: