★★★

“an eye-catching tribute to millions of devalued female lives”

Animal spirits are roused, and a proto-feminist movement born, amid blood and viscera, in Mary and the Hyenas, a raucous musical re-telling of the short but impactful life of Mary Wollenstonecraft, the 18th century philosopher, writer and radical.

She died, aged 38, following complications giving birth to the girl who would grow up to write Frankenstein, and the show gives Mary the 10 days between birth and death to educate her daughter on how to be a woman in a hostile world.

The dilemma is this: give them the freedom to think and risk a life of restraint and frustration; or let them be ignorant and perhaps content with marriage and childcare.

Mother Mary inevitably chooses the former path – and sets about educating not only her own daughters but every daughter everywhere, riling the patriarchy no end and filling girls’ heads with discomforting notions of self-fulfilment and equality.

Rock chick Mary is brought to vivid life in a tour-de-force performance by Laura Elsworthy, tear-stained, pink-haired, sharp-elbowed and forever with a rebel yell on her lips. She presents Mary not as an invulnerable ideologue, but a woman susceptible to the very traps and manipulations she sees with such clarity elsewhere.

She lives and loves outrageously, and to her very great cost.

Elsworthy is supported by a five-strong backing group – Ainy Medina, Beth Crame, Elexi Walker, Kat Johns-Burke, Kate Hampson – who rise to meet the demands of a very physical production. They are forever scaling designer Sara Perks’ mountainous and boxy set, or donning hats, aprons, glasses, accents etc to create a full cast of characters. In between they belt out songs by Tor Maries (Billy Nomates).

It is a pity that the songs fail to ignite despite all the huffing and puffing on the embers. The shouty affirmations seem to be in search of a melody and the cold Human League style electro-pop doesn’t assist, draining the numbers of emotional connection. The lyrics are symptomatic of the production’s greatest failing. The sloganeering, however well meaning, is an easy go-to, filling the gaps when the story-telling flags. It is a call-and-response of diminishing returns.

Beyond the committed cast, the strengths of director Esther Richardson’s over busy but colourful production lie in the depiction of women conditioned to become little more than ornaments and brood mares. Humour is the most effective weapon in writer Marueen Lennon’s arsenal. She pricks the preening pomposity of the male intelligentsia who view Mary as an oddity to be treated warily and at arm’s length. The audience responds warmly to these infrequent sprigs of wry lampooning and crave more of the same.

(“I won’t be able to apply myself with a husband,’ says one would-be anatomist. “I bet they get in the way.”)

Mary and the Hyenas is an eye-catching tribute to millions of devalued female lives – and to one of endless significance.

THE MAGIC FLUTE

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★★

“It is an ensemble piece, and the voices are all as fantastic as the libretto is fantastical”

When February draws to a close and we’ve just about had enough of the relentless drops in temperature and dark nights, we inevitably start dreaming of escaping to more tropical climates. The Creole-tinged doorway with its carved panels set in the crumbling façade of Wilton’s Music Hall currently provides such a gateway. For beyond the worn stone and peeled paint, we find ourselves wandering into the heart of the jungle. Simon Bejer’s lush, evergreen set (adapted for this revival by Lucy Fowler) draws us right into the centre of Charles Court Opera’s reinterpretation of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute”. At first, we don’t notice the figure entwined in a coil of vines centre stage, until the piano shifts from the minor to the major chords and the three attendants of the Queen of the Night swoon over the handsome figure that is Tamino (Martins Smaukstelis), a rather posh explorer lost in the wilderness and confusion.

There is plenty of opportunity for the audience to become lost as we try to follow the fantastical narrative, but the clear-cut performances offer a solid guide through the overgrown and illogical plot twists. John Savournin’s direction lets the dialogue and libretto cut through, highlighting the comedy of the piece. And although we might sometimes miss the heightened dynamics of a full orchestra, David Eaton’s solo piano accompaniment generously supports the fine voices on stage. There is a simplicity to the staging that is camouflaged by clever use of puppetry and masks, and with Ben Pickersgill’s atmospheric lighting this is a lush visual production.

Smaukstelis, as Tamino, is a little boy lost. A little bit posh, and a lot out of his depth. But never fear, Matthew Kellett’s sprightly Papageno pitches up, full of Cockney swagger and a zest for claiming undue credit for rescuing the hapless Tamino. It isn’t long before they are both entangled in the adventure – Papageno looking for love and Tamino having it inexplicably thrust upon him in the form of Pamina (Alison Langer), held captive by the imposing Sarastro. Langer’s Pamina is vulnerable and wide-eyed with an even wider Soprano range that is invariably moving. Peter Lidbetter’s Mohican-headed Sarastro complements her with rich base tones, while the full company fill all the spaces in between. It is an ensemble piece, and the voices are all as fantastic as the libretto is fantastical.

If the story comes across a touch confounding and convoluted, the characterisation shines bright. Eleri Gwilym’s Queen of the Night is part Amazonian warrior and part Voodoo priestess. Joe Ashmore, as Sarastro’s ill-fated, hard-done-by Monostatos, is a bit of a lecherous cad, yet his tongue-in-cheek portrayal is somehow endearing. When Sarah Prestwidge’s Papagena makes a late appearance to steal her male namesake’s heart, the puppetry and costume take centre stage, and the magic of Mozart’s opera are more than glimpsed at. It is a small and pared down production, but its inventiveness enchants us. John Savournin’s and David Eaton’s modern English version harks back to the traditionalism of its message but feels bang up to date. The crux of the story seems to focus on the advantages and merits of wisdom. Of patience and knowing when to keep quiet instead of repeating unqualified false truths. And above all of learning not to take everything you hear at face value.

It’s a jungle out there indeed. But every now and then it’s possible to escape for a couple of hours and get lost in escapism and entertainment. Charles Court Opera know how to deliver, and with “The Magic Flute” they have once again conjured magic.

MARY AND THE HYENAS

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★

“an eye-catching tribute to millions of devalued female lives”

MARY AND THE HYENAS

Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 20th March 2025

by Giles Broadbent

Photography by Tom Arran

Previously reviewed at this venue:

MARY AND THE HYENAS

MARY AND THE HYENAS

MARY AND THE HYENAS

THE MAGIC FLUTE

Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★★

“It is an ensemble piece, and the voices are all as fantastic as the libretto is fantastical”

THE MAGIC FLUTE

Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 26th February 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Bill Knight

Previously reviewed at this venue:

The Magic Flute

The Magic Flute

The Magic Flute