A Small Mind At The Theatre

So at the end of my third year of discovering theatre, my world continues to evolve and life itself becomes absorbed more into the theatrical world. I increased on my 2015 record this year, sitting down in many varied locations over 150 times to watch an array of theatrical experiences. These included plays, musicals, storytelling, music, magic, dance and variety nights. So in my now tradition of (one) previous time, let me present in reverse order, my top 15 trips of 2016. At Number 15... The Same Faces at The Black Prince, Northampton It took me a long time to finally see The Same Faces. It was my lose, as each of the three nights I have so far had the privilege to see have offered an endless feast of brilliant improv. It may crash and burn at moments, however that is improv for you and the flame of brilliance is really never far away and you soon have tears running down your face once again. At Number 14... Love Letters performed by White Cobra Productions at The Playhou

Remarkably I only saw the classic film It's A Wonderful Life last Christmas, this was thanks to spotting it lurking on my subscription of Netflix. A glorious heartwarming film perfect for Christmas? That must be why I was a blubbering mess at the end of it then. There was hope that in public, The Masque Theatre's performance of the radio version of the story didn't leave me in the same situation. As it happened it did a little as that final scene in the Bailey household played out again, but it didn't matter as there were members of the cast in the same broken state as many of us audience members. Left to right: Jo Molyneux, John Myhill, Lisa Wright, Michael Street, Lisa Shepherd and Jof Davies This was the first radio play that I had seen performed and on the evidence of this, I sure would like to see some more. While not having the drama of standard plays in their creation of moment and places, they do have a rather striking drive towards character creation. The

At the end of a week where I was slightly disappointed with a production which had been a past Tony Award nominee for best play, I found myself at Duston for the very differently graded Little Red Riding Hood pantomime. There is no comparison of course, despite my disappointment and reservations, that play not only surpasses Red Riding Hood in performance levels, technicals and well pretty much everything. However it did generate a great deal of thought over a reviewers roles in the so called "entertainment" aspect. Despite Peter And The Starcatcher (for that of course is the play in question) being an exceptional achievement in production and performance, just lacking in the material aspect, I do wonder whether the audience at Red Riding Hood were actually having a better time. Like last years Sinbad The Sailor , this is written once again by the mysterious Mr Johnathan Freeth, who it seems is quite a dab hand at this pantomime writing lack. He certainly knows what

The University of Northampton BA Actors devised shows are never, ever, a disappointment. Many of them like the incredibly splendid Orientation from last year, I could happily watch more than once. She Echos easily falls into that category and I shall return tomorrow to watch it once again. Taking the concept of alternative possibilities made famous in popular by Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors , She Echoes creates a multiple splitting world of Emily and her success in work, family, driving and most importantly love. We awake each morning with Emily either early, late, or with time to read the paper or not, and a meeting with her sister who may be back on the bottle or sipping coffee. Emily may walk to work, she may drive, she may get the tube. She might go to the Red Ruby club or not. Each of these scenarios is created in two ways, first through repetition of scenes where charges occur on route through alternating incidents; some simple, some startlingly dramatic. The second way

There is a tradition at the start of some meetings that a member of a committee has to declare an interest in something being discussed. Therefore it is appropriate that at this time, I declare that as the relatively newly installed publicity committee member at The Playhouse Theatre, I am about to review a play that it has been my responsibility to promote. So how is that for conflict of interest? However to be fair, the amateur world has become an increasingly delicate place for me to work with reviewing as I have got to know more and more of those involved, and they have all learnt who I am. My reviews though are not here for me to make friends, as some recent offerings have shown, so if there was something up, rest assured that I would happily state so. Fortunately director Jem Clack has on this occasion gave me little of concern, as with his large cast of nine, he has produced a nicely polished production. I had the opportunity on Sunday to see the final dress rehearsal for th

The opportunity to see a European premiere of a Tony award-winning Broadway hit on the Royal stage is a wonderful thing to behold, and to leave more than a little disappointed from the experience does sadden me a little. There is no question that Peter and the Starcatcher it is a remarkable theatre experience, filled with stunning stage craft and a dream cast at the top of their game. However Rick Elice's adaption of the 2006 book by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson is frequently more disappointing than stunning. It lurks in the dangerous area of not being sure whether it is a fun and enthusiastic family play or just simply a pantomime. It all starts dreadfully, with ten to fifteen minutes of the most overwhelming and full-on story-telling. Filling the heads of the audience with so much information at the start really isn't clever and reminded me greatly of the comment that Little Sally says at the start of Urinetown about "too much exposition". It is all brilliantly

Life can be easy sometimes as a theatre blogger. When the worlds collide to make something as a complete package so brilliant that you don't have to dwell on anything bad and break things down to analyse. I love being kind, I hate being critical. Hair at the Hope Mill Theatre allows me to have an easy and happy day today. Indeed it is very easy to be won over by a show at the relatively new Hope Mill Theatre immediately, simply because of how brilliant it is as a venue. After having had my longest ever journey to a theatre, and my first visit to Manchester itself, it offers a quirky, warm and truly welcoming embrace. Hair is a 1967 anti-war kaleidoscopic feast with a relatively light plot line, held together by a really unique collection of songs and dance sequences. This being the very first time seeing the show, I have to admit that there were parts where I wasn't entirely clear what was going on, however like the weed smoking Tribe, I was without question enjoying the tr