Tag Archives: Wilton’s Music Hall

Potted Panto

★★★★★

Wilton’s Music Hall

POTTED PANTO at Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★★★

“Basically, you’ve just got to see it to believe it.”

Daniel Clarkson and Jefferson Turner (thereinafter referred to as Dan and Jeff) take on the task of presenting six-and-a-half popular pantomimes in the space of eighty minutes. They’ve been doing it for some years now, so are probably getting quite adept. Just to show off, immediately after the interval they summarise the first act (a mere four pantomimes) in three minutes. ‘Potted Potted Panto’ they call it. They don’t stop there – they then recap (donning their ‘recap caps’) in one minute. Yes, you guessed: ‘Potted Potted Potted Panto’. It goes on. Until breathlessly they somehow revert to the task in hand. This is their modus operandi. They are constantly having to rein each other in, pulling themselves away from the many digressions and bizarre, surreal, outlandish embellishments they have piled thick and fast onto the traditional stories. It is a miracle that they are condensed at all, what with the sheer number of laugh-out-loud moments packed in.

Dan and Jeff are a slick duo. Vaudevillian, but a touch more risqué. Morecambe and Wise but with the more modern, anarchic chaos of Rik Mayall and Ade Edmondson. Deep down we know that this show has been rehearsed to a tee, but it feels like a rampage. One that is forever teetering on the verge of collapse. The popular titles they have chosen are ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’, ‘Dick Whittington’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Sleeping Beauty’, ‘Cinderella’ and ‘Aladdin’. Ah, yes, the ones we know and love. Except that after witnessing Dan and Jeff’s interpretation we cease to know them – but love them even more. At Dan’s insistence, ‘A Christmas Carol’ is shoehorned in (hilariously mashed up with ‘Aladdin’ – I shall say nothing!). Strictly speaking, Dickens’ Victorian classic is not a pantomime. Jeff feels the need to point this out. Neither is the Nativity. Nor the John Lewis Christmas advert, nor the Doctor Who Christmas Special.

Dan concedes. And so, the roller coaster ride begins. Caught in the cyclone of activity are dozens of costume changes that more or less keep up with the plot twists. Our perceptions of the fairy tales we grew up with are not just stretched but snapped clean in two. We are in a world where giant moose lay golden eggs and Dick Whittington conquers London in his shiny green hotpants and thigh high boots. Where fairy God-chickens wave their magic baguettes and dinosaurs wander into Sleeping Beauty’s bramble-thick garden. Where the ghost of Christmas Present is summoned from a genie’s lamp… I could go on and list every bizarre twist, joke, reference, visual pun, innuendo, satirical zeitgeist. But it would take all day. And you wouldn’t believe it anyway so there’s no such thing as a spoiler for this show. I could hand you the script word for word and you’d be none the wiser. Basically, you’ve just got to see it to believe it.

Written by the pair (along with Richard Hurst) it is, despite all evidence to the contrary, an exceedingly witty and intelligent creation. The intricate balancing act of the language and the humour aims straight for the ‘grown ups’ and the ‘little ones’ simultaneously without any confusion being whipped up in the crossfire. It is difficult to decipher who is enjoying it the most as the laughter from each generation vies for supremacy in the auditorium. Similarly, it is a joy to witness the performers having just as much of a ball as the audience. Even when they are corpsing they are in command. They don’t really need it, but aid comes intermittently in the shape of stage manager, Sammy Johnson, who adopts a couple of idiosyncratic characters of his own. And Marie-Claire Wood matches their comic flair wordlessly, before stunning us with her beautiful singing voice.

If I were to put down on paper what this show is about (oh, hang on – that’s exactly what I’m doing) I’d be wary about letting anybody read it. I don’t think it would make much sense. What would make less sense, though, would be to miss this sensational, seasonal show. Even if the show itself makes no sense. But that’s the beauty of it. ‘Tis the season to be silly. Or is it jolly? Anyway, “Potted Panto” is jolly silly. ‘Potted’ – according to the dictionary – has more than one meaning: 1. Shortened. 2. Intoxicated. Well – that says it all.

 


POTTED PANTO at Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 1st December 2023

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Geraint Lewis


Previously reviewed at this venue:

Feast | ★★★½ | September 2023
I Wish My Life Were Like A Musical | ★★★★★ | August 2023
Express G&S | ★★★★ | August 2023
The Mikado | ★★★★ | June 2023
Ruddigore | ★★★ | March 2023
Charlie and Stan | ★★★★★ | January 2023
A Dead Body In Taos | ★★★ | October 2022
Patience | ★★★★ | August 2022
Starcrossed | ★★★★ | June 2022
The Ballad of Maria Marten | ★★★½ | February 2022
The Child in the Snow | ★★★ | December 2021
Roots | ★★★★★ | October 2021

Potted Panto

Potted Panto

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Feast

Feast

★★★½

Wilton’s Music Hall

FEAST at Wilton’s Music Hall

★★★½

Feast

“a feast for the eyes and ears with an interesting perspective that should keep the audience gripped”

Feast tells the story Jessica, a woman on the verge of a promotion, desperately trying to impress to get it. It’s theatre about class barriers, trying by any means to fit in, and what impact that has on a person – universal themes explored innovatively with operatic style. The piece opens with Jessica speaking to someone we assume to be in HR about the previous evening’s events – giving a sense of trepidation for what’s to come. We are then transported to the evening in question with Jessica as narrator, punctuated by song, as if for the HR person’s benefit.

Stephanie Wake-Edwards gives an outstanding performance as Jessica and developed the original concept alongside Simone Ibbet-Brown. Despite not being an opera afficionado, the storytelling of the piece was not lost on me. Stephanie’s expressions and physicality communicate the meaning that the language cannot.

Is Feast an operatic cabaret? A jukebox musical? It’s described by the company as ‘a musical monologue’, which it sort of is, except, not quite. Joey Akubeze, Joseph Black and Andy Bewley are all on stage throughout the first act contributing heavily to the dialogue, although not to the musical numbers, as three important men in Jessica’s life. Each brings a unique style to their characters and interest to the plot.

The score shows Wake-Edwards’ range as a performer, at times victorious, vengeful or vulnerable. There are some original compositions by Ben Comeau, with the whole piece performed confidently on the piano by musical director André Callegaro. Interspersed with the operatic numbers are some more folk, pop or rock songs that will be familiar to many, although interpreted differently. Joni Mitchell’s A Case of You was a surprise and, whilst not an unpopular song to cover, was the first time I had heard an operatic version. Where Joni is haunting, Stephanie is resonant – a moving tribute and unique take.

The first act is heavier on the dialogue, with music used to convey a particular emotion or moment. It’s also more outward facing with Jessica speaking directly to the audience, presenting herself to the world and her men in it. The tension builds, as slowly and steadily falling apart the perfect persona loses grip, climaxing with an unexpected moment of surrealism that closes the first act.

The shorter second act becomes an introspective psycho drama that is much more music heavy. This shift in style could be interpreted as reflective of the drama – Jessica’s mask has slipped and she’s turning inward, reflecting on who she really is, not just as who she projects herself as. More cynically, it doesn’t hurt for Wake-Edwards to have thirty minutes of almost uninterrupted singing to showcase her talents. Nevertheless, it is an enjoyable performance, particularly her rendition of Mama by Shirley J Thompson, where every repetition of the two syllables conveys a new emotion.

The piece could do with some tightening round the edges. The people and relationships between them are not always clear, not helped by some rather rushed dialogue at key moments by Wake-Edwards. It slightly adds to the shroud of mystery over Jessica’s own character, and sense that not everything is as it seems – but more often just makes you feel as if you’ve missed something. The tech was also a bit slow to cue, there were moments where Wake-Edwards was clearly uncomfortable with her costume and hair, and a few issues with props that, on their own, would be nothing major. However, taken together it suggested a little more polish wouldn’t go amiss.

Nonetheless, Stephanie Wake-Edwards delivers a feast for the eyes and ears with an interesting perspective that should keep the audience gripped.


FEAST at Wilton’s Music Hall

Reviewed on 15th September 2023

by Amber Woodward


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

 

I Wish My Life Were Like A Musical | ★★★★★ | August 2023
Express G&S | ★★★★ | August 2023
The Mikado | ★★★★ | June 2023
Ruddigore | ★★★ | March 2023
Charlie and Stan | ★★★★★ | January 2023
A Dead Body In Taos | ★★★ | October 2022
Patience | ★★★★ | August 2022
Starcrossed | ★★★★ | June 2022
The Ballad of Maria Marten | ★★★½ | February 2022
The Child in the Snow | ★★★ | December 2021

Feast

Feast

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