Tag Archives: Trevor Ashley

DEEP-HEAT RIVALRY

★★★★

The Other Palace

DEEP-HEAT RIVALRY

The Other Palace

★★★★

“Mitchell Harper’s choreography is a standout, full of bravado, athleticism and personality”

You wait all year for a parody of the hit hockey drama ‘Heated Rivalry’ and then three turn up at once. That’s right, ‘Deep Heat Rivalry: The Porno Panto On Ice’ is the latest addition to the parody phenomenon sweeping the nation, making its world premiere as a gloriously camp, unapologetically queer and laugh-out-loud celebration of the show’s cultural impact.

Ice hockey superstars Shane Hollandaise and Ilya Stroganoff are known for their public friction. But a different kind of heat’s rising behind closed doors. Can they make room for love on such a public platform? And how many divas must Diana Vickers spoof to get there?

Writers Trevor Ashley and Phil Scott gleefully raid the panto playbook for this hilariously irreverent romp. A talking puck – naturally named Puck – guides us through the action with all the sparkle of a Fairy Godmother, firing off rhyming couplets until even they give up. There’s a larger-than-life Diva with more costume changes than a panto dame, plenty of audience participation, and a barrage of parody songs. Though the first half is stronger than the second – with momentum dipping slightly towards the end, and a couple of songs lacking the same punch – the show’s greatest achievement is its accessibility. You don’t need to know the series to have a great time: going in blind, it’s wickedly funny and deliciously naughty; after frantically bingeing the series, you appreciate how cleverly it spoofs the source material without being overly tethered to it. Better still, it pursues an even happier panto-style ending of its own. A thoroughly entertaining and winningly silly night out.

Ashley’s direction is knowingly irreverent, delivering a lovingly camp take on the central romance. Where ‘Heated Rivalry’ leans into sincerity and emotional depth, ‘Deep-Heat Rivalry’ packs in musical theatre moments, pop culture nods and a carousel of cultural icons. It leans into the series’ steamy reputation, with cheeky (literally) bedroom scenes and plenty of innuendo, all without crossing into full nudity. Like any self-respecting panto, it’s fuelled by parody songs, many of them queer anthems, which drive the story while keeping the laughs coming. It makes smart use of the compact space, regularly spilling into the auditorium and kidnapping audience members to create a lively sense of complicity. The pacing is brisk for the most part, though loses a little steam in the second half. Mitchell Harper’s choreography is a standout, full of bravado, athleticism and personality, while still allowing space for some vulnerability. I especially love the tongue in cheek take on ‘Anything Goes’, complete with tap track gags. One or two numbers feel more static by comparison, but overall this is a slick, playful and irresistibly fun production.

Reuben Speed’s set is a cut above the usual DIY panto aesthetic, with wraparound sports fans, an LED-edged rink and a glittering title perched above it all. Matt Hockley’s lighting channels sporting spectacle with a camp twist, with roving coloured spotlights setting the mood before the show’s even begun. Joshua Robins’ sound design is slick, if occasionally a touch overpowering, with some lyrical gags getting lost in the mix. Angie White’s costumes range from eye-catching to barely-there, with Puck’s daringly revealing leotard a particular highlight.

The show’s greatest asset is its superb cast. This fierce foursome (wink) attack every gag, lyric and dance break with infectious energy, razor-sharp comic timing and impressive precision. Sario Solomon brings just the right mix of angst and devotion to Shane, while Jason Leigh Winter nails Ilya’s brooding, laconic cool before gleefully unleashing his camp side. Diana Vickers is a comic chameleon as The Diva, switching effortlessly between characters while showing off a powerhouse vocal range. Though the glue of the show is Ross Chisari’s Puck, a mischievous master of ceremonies who keeps the audience firmly in the palm of his hand with boundless energy throughout. A fabulous ensemble.

‘Deep Heat Rivalry’ is a worthy addition to the ‘Heated Rivalry’ canon and, with Christmas officially less than 100 days away (sorry), it’s the perfect excuse for an early dose of panto.



DEEP-HEAT RIVALRY

The Other Palace

Reviewed on 16th September 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Mark Senior

 

 

 

 

 

DEEP-HEAT RIVALRY

DEEP-HEAT RIVALRY

DEEP-HEAT RIVALRY

THE PRODUCERS

★★★★★

Garrick Theatre

THE PRODUCERS

Garrick Theatre

★★★★★

“Naughty throughout, the production embraces its sparkly bad taste with debauched chutzpa”

Some shows come round at just the right moment. At a time when everyone is avoiding the political cracks in the pavement for fear of causing offence, along bounces Mel Brooks’ delightfully unrestrained The Producers gatecrashing the zeitgeist and reminding us that laughter can be the most subversive act of all.

Seems like a relief to be able to guffaw without checking the taste-o-meter.

Patrick Marber’s revival, first seen at the Menier Chocolate Factory, has now graduated to the Garrick, bringing with it the same riotous mix of bad taste, Broadway pizazz, spectacle and sheer joy.

The premise is still a comic marvel. Max Bialystock, a washed-up producer, has found a way to bankroll his flops by seducing elderly widows. Enter Leo Bloom, a neurotic accountant who spots a loophole: with creative accounting, more money could be made from a disaster than a hit.

Together they hatch a plan to stage the worst musical ever written. Unfortunately for them, that play – Springtime for Hitler – is embraced as satirical genius.

Andy Nyman’s Max is an inspired mix of sleaze and clowning, hustling with the air of a man who might sell his own mother if it kept the lights on. Nyman delivers – always.

Marc Antolin makes a marvellously twitchy Leo, a tangle of nerves and Broadway dreams. Together, they are a comic odd couple whose energy drives the show. Their routines – whether sparring, scheming, or tentatively finding a kind of friendship – are delivered with sparkling timing.

The supporting company maintain the standard – this is an ensemble of comic genius.

Joanna Woodward belts gloriously as Ulla, the secretary who offers romance as well as vocal fireworks. Harry Morrison’s Franz Liebkind is a delicious caricature of the deranged Nazi playwright, his lederhosen-clad lurching matched only by his chorus of puppet pigeons. Best of all, Trevor Ashley brings the house down as Roger de Bris, the flamboyant director pressed into service as the Führer, a vision in spangles and satin who manages to be both ridiculous and weirdly lovable.

Marber and choreographer Lorin Latarro work wonders in giving this the sweep of a Broadway blockbuster. Old ladies tap-dance on Zimmer frames, accountants break into showbiz numbers, and stormtroopers goose-step in perfectly drilled formation. Scott Pask’s lightbulb-framed set and Paul Farnsworth’s ever-more glittering and outré costumes heighten the delirium, while Brooks’ songs – “I Wanna Be a Producer”, “Betrayed” – still land with deadpan brilliance.

The show-within-a-show, Springtime for Hitler is the most bad taste, gloriously over-the-top sequence you will see anywhere in London. It deserves, and nearly receives, its own giddy standing ovation.

The satire has softened a little with time, but it is genuinely funny. Not funny as in light-entertainment-knowing-chuckles but the real thing, and slightly febrile. It is Mel Brooks after all.

What lifts this production above mere lark is its unencumbered freedom of spirit. Naughty throughout, the production embraces its sparkly bad taste with debauched chutzpah. It is like a big guilty secret we all share in a tucked-away speak-easy from where the social media stormtroopers are barred.

For all the lechery, fraud and outrageous parody, there is genuine affection in the bond between Max and Leo, and a sense that Brooks’ ultimate subject is not fascism but the lunacy of showbusiness itself. It is both love-letter and send-up, celebrating the power of theatre even as it mocks its excesses.

The Garrick now houses the most joyously tasteless evening in town. It is the ultimate antidote to All That Horrible Stuff Out There. It may be shocking, outrageous and insulting, but you will surrender. You vill surrendah.



THE PRODUCERS

Garrick Theatre

Reviewed on 15th September 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Manuel Harlan


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

MRS WARREN’S PROFESSION | ★★★★★ | May 2025
UNICORN | ★★★★ | February 2025
WHY AM I SO SINGLE? | ★★★★ | September 2024
BOYS FROM THE BLACKSTUFF | ★★★ | June 2024
FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★ | March 2024
HAMNET | ★★★ | October 2023
THE CROWN JEWELS | ★★★ | August 2023
ORLANDO | ★★★★ | December 2022

 

 

THE PRODUCERS

THE PRODUCERS

THE PRODUCERS