University of Northampton, BA (Hons) Acting, Undergraduates 2017 Showcase Programme, Tristan Bates Theatre, London, 21st June 2017

ShowcaseOver the past eight months it’s been my privilege to attend several productions featuring the 3rd Year Acting students of Northampton University. I’ve been to Isham Dark (isn’t that in The Lord of the Rings?) to see Shrapnel andShe Echoes. I’ve been to the Royal Theatre to see Posh, Pornography and Vinegar Tom. I saw all fifteen of this year’s Flash Festival shows. And I was honoured to be invited to attend their London showcase on Wednesday, where they once again showed their talent in front of an audience including many theatrical agents and directors.

Karr KennedyWhilst I also saw the 2016 bunch at the Royal and in some Flash shows, I didn’t get to see their early productions and I didn’t see their showcase. The benefit of seeing individual performers in at least four different productions is that you can really get a sense of their versatility, their strengths, their vocal abilities and so on. You can see when an individual really excels in a role, or when they rise to a challenge and really surprise you; just as sometimes you can see when someone takes an unsuitable role, or for some reason just doesn’t bring to the stage what you hope from them. I love going to the theatre – I always want to enjoy it, I always want to appreciate the best of what I see. And that is my watchword for when I write a review; I will always try to concentrate on the good, and if I have criticisms, I try to be constructive with them. But I also always have to be honest, because there’s simply no point in doing it if I’m not. As at today I think I’ve seen approximately 1450 productions – so I do have quite a lot of experience from the front stalls!

Ben HamptonThe showcase was a fascinating experience for me to witness for the first time. Almost all the students appeared in fifteen short sketches or playlets, either parts of a longer work or mini-masterpieces in their own right. It seemed to me that it was essential to make the correct choice to show off each individual’s most marketable qualities. Use of humour was important; two of the pieces were absolutely hilarious, and in both cases the four performers – Karr Kennedy and Jessica Bichard in Diary of a Madman, and Lauren Scott and Olly Manning in Beyond Therapy – came across with really top quality performances. High drama also works well: scenes with great conflict, soul searching, confrontation and argument were memorable and brought out the best in the performers: Olivia Sarah Jayne Noyce and Benjamin Hampton in a scene from Closer, Victoria Rowlands and Joseph T Callaghan in The Mercy Seat, and Steven Croydon, Connor McCreedy and Jack James in First Light all excelled here.

Becky FowlerIt’s when the scene really feels like it’s part of a much larger work that I sometimes felt the performers had a harder task to project themselves. Nevertheless, I thought that Kundai Kanyama and Ben Barton created a fascinating scenario in their scene from Let the Right One In, as did Jennifer Wyndham, Becky Fowler and Jessica Bridge in Di and Viv and Rose; both scenes were very engaging and the actors created very identifiable and believable characters. There were some quirky scenes too; Luke Mortimore and Tom Garland presenting a very disconcerting but strangely convincing scenario in Perve; and Jennifer Etherington and Rachel Graham-Brown rounding ominously on the hapless Daniel Ambrose-Jones in the picnic from hell in Morning. Regarding the six sketches I haven’t mentioned – that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy them or think they were well performed, but perhaps they didn’t quite have the same impact as the others.

Victoria RowlandsIt was great to talk to so many of this year’s “team” after the show, and to hear about what plans they have for the immediate future and in which directions they hope the careers will go long term. They really are a splendid bunch of people! What I learned specifically from an alcohol point of view was that Helena Fenton is not to be trusted with any sharp movements if you have a full glass in your hand (almost a calamity), Chris Drew can’t pour prosecco for toffee and Hans Oldham was shocked when I lurched for a third glass of the aforementioned prosecco – although less so when we agreed to share the remainder of the bottle.

Liam FaikI was there with my friend and co-reviewer A Small Mind at the Theatre and he has very bravely committed to paper his award-winners for the year. Whereas last year there were a few absolutely stand-out performers that were very obviously the best, this year, for me, choosing the best is a much harder task. I’ve had a stab at selecting my favourites, but I cannot come up with a short-list that I think truly represents everyone’s capabilities. To be honest, any one person from this intake is a potential star in the making. All I can do is wish everyone the very best of luck and I look forward to following everyone’s careers in the future – and thanks again for a year’s worth of great shows!

Review – Jan Mráček Performs Mendelssohn, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 18th June 2017

RPO June 17It’s always a pleasure to welcome back the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra to Northampton – this time, on the hottest day of the year so far; as the concert began we were still basking in 29° sunshine outside so very wisely the gentlemen of the orchestra adopted shirt sleeve order – otherwise they would have found it unbearable on stage.

Martyn BrabbinsOur conductor – new to us – was Martyn Brabbins, whose credits include 120 recordings on CD and who is currently the Music Director of the English National Opera. He’s an avuncular looking chap, a little like Great Uncle Bulgaria’s younger brother, who’s not averse to leaning back on his tippy-toes and then stabbing his baton at full force into the general vicinity of the orchestra if that’s what it takes to get the best out of them.

Two harpistsOur opening piece was Debussy’s Prélude à l’après-mid d’un faune, a beautifully gentle way to start the evening. We were presented with the stirring sight and sound of not one but two harps and harpists, Suzy Willison-Kawalec (who taught my Goddaughter to play the harp) and Emma Ramsdale. You can really hear the difference when two harps are playing side by side, the music is so much more powerful, even when it’s delicate. The orchestra really brought out the fragility of this piece and it was a stunning opener. I was also struck by how similar its first few bars are to Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. Debussy predated it by almost twenty years.

Jan MracekFor our next piece, we welcomed our soloist, Jan Mráček, for a performance of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto. You know you are getting older when the soloists are getting younger, and pan Mráček clocks in at 25 years old but with the gravitas of a man much older. He’s already won some kind of award by being the only person in a jacket (poor him) and as soon as he plunged himself into the first movement, we knew we were in for a treat. He played the Mendelssohn with an elegant seriousness but tempered with true enjoyment. He gave it fantastic expression and we were both absolutely wowed by his performance; all from memory, with amazing control and superb finesse. There’s a section where (as it seems to me, in my layman’s terms) the bow has to bounce lightly over all the strings in sequence, and then bounce back, and then back again and back again across the bridge and so on and all that time there wasn’t one moment where the tone suffered – none of those little squeaking or clattering noises you sometimes hear when the playing gets intense, it was absolutely precision perfect. I don’t know how he does it. I read that pan Mráček plays a violin made in Milan in 1758; it may well be that the craftsmanship of the centuries adds to the warmth and passion of his performance.

RPOAfter the interval we welcomed back the orchestra – still with two harps – for Shostakovich’s Fifth Symphony. Written at a time when Shostakovich was persona non-grata with the Stalin government, he was literally composing to save his life – and the power of the symphony really reflects this. Too complex for someone like me to give it any kind of narrative, the Fifth Symphony is full of superb tunes and dramatic explosions, and the whole orchestra gave it so much life and zest. Outstanding for me was a beautiful pizzicato sequence and again the way the harps blended with the celeste was just plain gorgeous.

It wasn’t the largest audience I’ve seen at the Derngate for one of these RPO concerts, but it was certainly an appreciative one as the orchestra gave us a memorable night of exquisite performances. They’re back on 16th July with something a little lighter – a Film Music Gala. Why not come and join us?!

Review – Death of a Salesman, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 14th June 2017

Death of a SalesmanThey say good things come to those who wait… Originally we had tickets to see this on 13th April, but, as you no doubt are aware gentle reader, everything was cancelled due to the sad and unexpected death of Tim Pigott-Smith, who was to play Willy Loman. I can only admire the tenacity and integrity of the cast and creative team for rescuing the production from the jaws of tragedy and creating such a brilliant phoenix to rise from the ashes of a terrible mixed metaphor on my part. The performance is dedicated to Tim Pigott-Smith, whom I only saw on stage once, ten years ago, playing Henry Higgins in Pygmalion at the Oxford Playhouse and damn good he was too.

DOAS1I’ve also only seen Death of a Salesman once before, back in 1979 at the National Theatre with Warren Mitchell as Willy Loman. I remember it like it was yesterday, and as you can imagine, Warren Mitchell was all kinds of special. But I do also remember that the production itself was a little iffy; I didn’t believe the characterisations of Biff and Happy at all, and by trying to use up all the large Lyttelton stage, it just all felt a bit thin. No such problem here, with this magnificent production by Abigail Graham, where all Willy’s hopes and aspirations, his past and present relationships with his wife and his sons, his humiliating dismissal by his boss, and his sordid little affair all take place inside a claustrophobic boxed set, which really emphasises what a little person Willy Loman is. The lights may proclaim “Land of the Free”, in homage to Willy’s pursuit of the American Dream, but they have a tendency to short-circuit and fail; and when the Lomans are finally “free” – of their biggest debt of all, the mortgage – Linda’s there to endure it on her own.

DOAS2Like many others, I read it at school; and judging from the number of (very well-behaved) students in the Royal last night, it’s not going to be leaving the syllabus any time soon. You couldn’t describe it as Arthur Miller’s masterpiece; but it’s a very fine piece of writing nonetheless and in Willy Loman he created a memorable figure of the little cog in the big wheel, who regrettably deludes himself into thinking he’s a much bigger cog. A mass of self-contradictions (“Biff is a lazy bum!” “one thing about Biff – he’s not lazy”); blind to the faults of his beloved older son (indolence, kleptomania, law-breaking); ignoring the approaches of his younger son (“I’m losing weight, you notice, Pop?”); intolerant of his wife Linda’s interjections, biting the hand that feeds him, sucking up to a system that has destroyed him, and living up to the maxim that it isn’t enough to be liked, you have to be well-liked – Willy Loman is one helluva creation.

DOAS3Older son Biff, too, is a chip off the old block, although both of them would absolutely deny it. A fantasist, chasing the American Dream in his own, more lethargic way, envisioning a world where he and Hap can work together without actually having to work. Whereas Willy would go away for weeks on end selling as hard as he could, Biff would rather get up late and cross his fingers. They all want the trappings of the American Dream, but only Willy spends his life actively trying to achieve it; and largely failing, as all the HP payments on the various household items seem to be in a constant state of arrears. Happy will go along with anything so long as there are girls involved.

DOAS4If there was ever any doubt that Nicholas Woodeson’s performance as Willy would be under some kind of Tim Pigott-Smith shadow, that doubt is cleared within one nanosecond of Mr Woodeson struggling home from a terrible day at work, through the auditorium, up the stairs, and pausing before walking on to the stage. He immediately grabs our attention and doesn’t let go for the next three hours. Railing against the injustices of the world, this Willy is very realistic, very true-to-life; his flights of fancy and his excursions into reminiscence come across as the early stages of dementia. With the small enclosed set, there’s nowhere for these vivid flashbacks to go other than right in our faces, making them seem even more like reality and less like mere memories. This Willy Loman is visibly captivated by the romance of the American Dream; when his sons outline a possible plan his eyes slowly light up and widen as he grasps the hope it offers with all his mettle. When the grandeur inevitably gives way to the inconsequent, he barks his bitterness furiously like an abused dog. It’s a fantastic performance; very powerful, incredibly moving, totally pathetic (in the best meaning of the word).

DOAS5Watching George Taylor’s performance as Biff made me realise this was the first time I’d really appreciated quite how damaged the character is. He suffers mental fallout following his unfortunate dropping in on his dad and Miss Francis in a hotel in Boston in a beautifully played scene by Connie Walker, refusing to go anywhere without her new nylons, and Mr Taylor, dumbstruck into almost a coma of confusion. Mr Taylor looks like the great American hope with his football prowess and his Uni of Virginia trainers, but strip a layer of veneer away and he’s just the sad case waiting five hours at Bill Oliver’s office without hope of recognition. Mr Taylor takes you on Biff’s journey of self-realisation; you hope it’s not all self-delusion but when it so obviously is, he makes you appreciate what a straightforward no-hoper Biff is. I thought he was superb.

DOAS6Tricia Kelly’s Linda is long-suffering, optimistic, and above all, undemanding of any real attention from her husband. When he returns at the beginning of the play, she neither offers nor expects any warmth from him; yet she remains completely loyal to him throughout, in sharp contrast to his affair which we assume she never finds out about. I very much enjoyed her scenes with the sons when she finally starts to bite back at them for their thoughtlessness. Ben Deery is excellent as Happy, always the sidekick in the younger days, now the debonair smoothie setting up the girls for a night on the town. All the minor roles were very well performed, particularly the aforementioned Connie Walker, all barely concealed sexual naughtiness, and Thom Tuck as the self-centred Howard, droning on about his family voice recordings and dismissing Willy without a thought.

DOAS7A superb production – and a true testament to the idea that the show must go on. It’s halfway through its tour at the moment, with Edinburgh, Truro, Guildford and Oxford still to come. A must-see.

P. S. “So how did he die?” asked Mrs Chrisparkle as we walked home afterwards. “Well, he…” I replied, but then stopped short. I cast my mind back. Actually, how did he die? He seemed to just stop, and drop. Heart attack? Arthur Miller has him driving hell-for-leather into a crash in the goddam Studebaker, but there was none of that here. But somehow it doesn’t matter. You know Willy’s going to die from the moment you first read the first word of the title. That’s no surprise. The production takes the deliberate view that how Willy dies is the least important thing in his story. And I’m rather inclined to agree.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

Review – Woyzeck, Old Vic, 10th June 2017

WoyzeckOf course I knew the play Woyzeck, doesn’t everybody? Famously a fragment left behind by George Büchner on his untimely death at the age of 23 in 1837. Adaptors over the years have made it their own by piecing the remaining bits together and adding an ending to suit their own tastes. The opera by Alban Berg. The film by Werner Herzog. And now Jack Thorne’s dramatic adaptation for the Old Vic… I’m not convincing you, am I? I confess that of course I’d heard of Woyzeck, but that was about the extent of it.

woyzeck and marieThis Woyzeck is a soldier in Berlin in the early 1980s, packed off after an inauspicious spell in Northern Ireland, taking with him his Irish girlfriend Marie and their baby, living in stinking rooms above a butcher’s shop rather in married quarters – they’re not married. His loyal colleague from Northern Ireland, Andrews, is still by his side, screwing everyone he comes into contact with so long as a) they’re female and b) they’re alive. Woyzeck is in desperate need for extra cash so acts as hairdresser/masseur (maybe more?) to Captain Thompson, and subjects himself to medical trials with the creepy Doctor Martens. Woyzeck has PTSD from his Northern Ireland stint but are the medical trials making him worse? And will his relationship with Marie survive his outbursts of fury and violence?

Woyzeck and CaptainTom Scutt’s design, which mainly consists of large walls descending from the flies, dominates the stage; and whilst these walls have considerable impact by their own appearance, they detract from the acting space. As a result, the Old Vic’s huge stage is only rarely called upon to contribute; the majority of the scenes take place, cramped, in between or in front of the walls. You may wish to attribute great symbolism to these walls – do they represent military barricades? Are they walls within Woyzeck’s mind? and so on. As Woyzeck begins to fall apart, so do these walls; gashes in their soft surfaces revealing bloody globules of angry brain. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted them.

Marie and WoyzeckIt is, I think it’s fair to say, a dark play. Apart from Andrews, there’s no one particularly happy with their lot. Woyzeck’s initial optimism falls away as the play develops; Marie’s confidence in Woyzeck steadily declines; Woyzeck fails to adhere to the strict rules of the medical trial, much to the doctor’s fury. Relationships are strained; security is threatened. There’s no obvious rescue position at the end of the play that looks to the future; no Fortinbras coming in to save us all. No matter how much you might enjoy the performances, at the end of the play you feel as though you’ve had a thoroughly hard time and you’ll need to rush outside and get some fresh air.

Andrews and MaggieJohn Boyega plays Woyzeck; you, gentle reader, of course know who he is, but I didn’t have a clue as I don’t watch Star Wars. He cuts an impressive figure and is very convincing as a tormented brain, which is largely what he has to portray after the interval. I liked his light-hearted but sexually charged banter with Marie, and his scenes with Andrews, although I found his interaction with the other characters slightly less convincing. Sarah Greene is superb as Marie, spirited in her dealings with Woyzeck, a little reserved and somewhat humiliated with other characters. However, the two of them together created an unlikely partnership for the times and in many ways, it wasn’t entirely believable. Ben Batt and Nancy Carroll steal the show; he as the irrepressible and ever perky Andrews, and she as the flirtatious and snobby Maggie, inquiring after the collection boxes she has entrusted to the embarrassed Marie whilst Andrews finishes off pounding her from behind. Marvellously confident performances both.

WoyzeckFor me this was a distinct curate’s egg of a production. Despite some good individual performances, some scenes did not gel and the descent into madness at the end wasn’t so much emotionally exhausting as straightforward tiring. There’s no doubt the play amply portrays the horror that can overtake a soldier; but I also felt a little injection of subtlety could have invested it with much more power, resulting in its offering much more entertainment. It’s on until 24th June.

Production photos by Manuel Harlan

The Agatha Christie Challenge – The Listerdale Mystery (1934)

Listerdale MysteryLike The Hound of Death, it’s back to the world of the short story with nary a mention of a Marple or a Poirot. Here we have twelve short tales of intrigue, a comparatively light confection of fun rather than a big detective work-out. Maybe the highlight of this collection is Philomel Cottage, as it has given birth to many other works over the years. Never fear, you can read this little analysis of the book without finding out any of the dark secrets of any of its stories!

The collection was published by Christie’s regular publishers, William Collins & Sons, but it was never available in the United States. However, Christie’s American fans didn’t miss out as all the stories in this volume were published as part of other collections over there: The Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories and The Golden Ball and Other Stories, although the latter was not published until 1971. All the stories had been previously published in either The Grand Magazine, Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, Sunday Dispatch, Daily Mail, Red Magazine, and The Novel Magazine between 1924 and 1929.

The Listerdale Mystery

Crown DerbyThe first, eponymous, story, is a charming, sweet little tale of Mrs St Vincent, a genteel widow fallen on hard times, living in rented rooms that she can’t afford. One day she discovers a fantastic house in Westmister available at a peppercorn rent. Apparently this house belonged to Lord Listerdale, who went missing – presumed dead by many – eighteen months previously, but who has turned up in Africa. The servants, including the butler, Quentin, remain in post and the St Vincent family live in relative luxury – surely it’s all too good to be true?

Originally appearing in 1925, it offers some typical early Christie social issues. The reality of renting in London is: “Frowsy landladies, dirty children on the stairs, fellow-lodgers who always seem to be half-castes”. Even in the country you’re faced with the prospect of a “Crown Derby tea service that you wash up yourself”. How the mighty are fallen. After Mrs St Vincent has met Quentin, and she suspects he will feed back who is and who isn’t a suitable tenant, she thinks: “he’s sorry for me. He’s one of the old lot too. He’d like me to have it – not a Labour Member of a button manufacturer”. Genteel she may be, but she’s a right snob too. Living in the elegant house even cures her son Rupert of mixing with the wrong sort: “he was also less enthusiastic on the subject of the tobacconist’s daughter. Atmosphere tells”. In amongst that drawing-room snobbery there’s a brief mention of selling teeth in the classified ads – that tells you that times were indeed hard for some people. There are more such advertisements in the story Jane in Search of a Job to be found later in this collection.

The address of the Westminster property is 7 Cheviot Place; in real life there is no such street. The rental was set at no more than 3 guineas a week – at today’s value that equates to a little over £130 per week – not bad at all. Nor is there a town, village or estate by the name of Listerdale – so his lordship wouldn’t have had much land!

I was quite taken with this little story – it’s very nicely constructed, all highly believable and even has a happy ending! It did remind me heavily of a story from Poirot InvestigatesThe Adventure of the Cheap Flat. It’s almost as though Christie has taken the same background situation for both stories and created one sinister, criminal tale and one rather heartwarming one.

Philomel Cottage

Lonely cottageAlix has married Gerald within a few days of knowing him despite a lengthy on-off friendship/romance with her ex-colleague Dick. Now living in an isolated cottage Alix starts to wonder about the real Gerald – does she really know him? Overwhelmed by curiosity she finds some hidden papers that suggest that Gerald is not necessarily all that he seems…

Again, referring to the book Poirot Investigates, this time the story “The Adventure of the Western Star”, Poirot solves that crime with the observation: “never does a woman destroy a letter”. However, in Philomel Cottage, Alix considers “men do sometimes keep the most damning piece of evidence through an exaggerated sentimentality”. So, which is it, Mrs Christie? A boy trait or a girl trait?! Christie the Poison Expert comes into play in this story with her knowledge of hyoscine. I’d never heard of it. And the “few thousand pounds” that Alix inherits (let’s say it’s £3000) would be the equivalent of roughly £125,000.

Before the Second World War, this was Christie’s most successful short story in terms of its subsequent adaptations. Frank Vosper turned it into the play Love from a Stranger, which in turn was filmed, twice, and then had three or four radio adaptations too. The real strength of this excellent short story is the slow build-up of suspense and tension, as Alix starts to get more and more anxious about Gerald; and it has a really surprise ending – a twist among twists for such a short piece of writing.

So far, so good – two excellent stories. The Listerdale Mystery collection is shaping up to be a very good book!

The Girl in the Train

Girl on trainGeorge Rowland gets up late, goes to work and gets sacked (by his uncle, no less) for useless timekeeping and other follies. It’s time for an adventure; and as he’s taking the train down to Rowland’s Castle – assuming he will find his fortune there – a damsel in distress enters his carriage, asks him to hide her from an enemy, then gives him the task of following a suspicious man and looking after a package. Clearly head over heels with the young lady, George throws himself into the adventure and finds out much more than he bargained for…

This story reminds me hugely of the bright young things who inhabit Bundle’s world – you remember Bundle, from The Secret of Chimneys and The Seven Dials Mystery – George would fit into that clique absolutely toppingly. It’s bright and breezy, funny and exciting. Because it’s a short story you don’t have time for the idiosyncrasies of the lead character to start to get wearing, so it really works. Originally written in 1924, it has Christie’s usual xenophobia of the age: “George had the true-born Briton’s prejudice against foreigners – and an especial distaste for German-looking foreigners.”

Unusually for Christie, she has set this story in the here and now (or here and then). Rowland’s Castle does exist, it’s a village near Havant, in Hampshire, and on the London-Portsmouth railway line – to give this story extra credibility. Sadly, this is the only appearance in Christie’s works of Detective Inspector Jarrold, which is a pity – I think he could have contributed nicely to her future works!

Three down, and each one a terrific little read! What’s up next?

Sing a Song of Sixpence

C_LombrosoWhat happens when someone you fell in love with, briefly, comes back into your life needing a very big favour – you help them out, don’t you? That’s what retired barrister Sir Edward Palliser does when a sweet young thing to whom he “made love” nine years previously (I think that means something different nowadays from what it did in 1929). The sweet young thing, Magdalen, finds herself in a fix as her aunt was recently murdered and it appears that the murderer must be a member of her household – and they’re all looking at each other asking “is it you?” If Sir Edward could come and ask some questions, I’m sure he’d get to the bottom of it all. He does – and he does. Curiously though he finds the experience dismaying, and in a frankly cruel twist at the end he’d rather not do the family any more favours. I don’t think I like Sir Edward very much!

That uncomfortable feeling that one of your family must be the murderer, but no one knows who, creates a very claustrophobic atmosphere that must in real life be terrifying. The set-up certainly reminded me of one of Christie’s finest books, And Then There Were None, which I am looking forward to re-reading sometime soon. However, that’s where the similarities end, as a neat observation by Sir Edward gives him the clue about what must have happened. The title Sing a Song of Sixpence also brings to mind Christie’s A Pocket Full of Rye, but there are no other crossovers between the two stories.

There are a few references to chase up; neither of the addresses of Queen Anne’s Close in Westminster nor Palatine Walk in Chelsea actually exist, and there never was a ship called the Siluric. I’d never heard of Joanna Southcott – if you haven’t either you should read about her because it’s fascinating – and it would appear that her box still hasn’t been opened, nor is likely to. The reference book that Sir Edward is reading at the beginning of the story is by Cesare Lombroso, an Italian criminologist who died in 1909 and who believed that criminality was inherited, and that someone “born criminal” could be identified by physical (congenital) defects, which confirmed a criminal as savage or atavistic. Christie leaves us in no doubt as to her opinion of that: “such ingenious theories and so completely out of date.”

That £80,000 inheritance that Magdalen will unexpectedly share with the other three members of the family is worth around £3.5million – that’s a tidy £875,000 each.

This story starts out well but then the end comes very suddenly and the leap of imagination that Sir Edward has to make in order to solve the crime is pretty extraordinary. I don’t quite believe this one; it’s not a bad story by any means, but it’s not up to the standard of the previous three.

The Manhood of Edward Robinson

1924-rolls-royceEdward’s something of a hen-pecked fiancé. He loves his Maud, and all that; but she’s a bit bossy and controlling, and after all, it’s he who won the £500 competition prize and he who really wants to buy that super new car… but he knows she’d disapprove of such a waste of money. Maybe he deserves some kind of adventure, like the one in the trashy romantic novel he was reading; and that’s just what he gets!

It’s a return to the derring-do types of Bundle’s crowd – although with their criminal recklessness maybe it’s more aligned to the Partners in Crime world of Tommy and Tuppence – it was written back in 1924. It’s an agreeable little tale but altogether less substantial than the others in the book so far – much more of a soufflé than a sticky toffee pudding. What this story does give you, and it’s something that we today can have no idea about – is the genuine thrill of those early days of driving, when you didn’t have to pass a test, and you drove at night with your heart in your mouth because you could barely see anything. This story does take you back to that era, where you could easily drive off in the wrong car because they didn’t have individual ignition keys. So that aspect of the story is indeed fun.

A couple of references: if you spend hours checking the atlas for the village of Greane, you won’t find it; nor will you get an invitation to the swanky Ritson’s nightclub, as I can see no trace of it nor anything like it. The relative values of today’s prices against those of 1924 are very relevant to this story. Maud wears four and elevenpenny blouses – which value today would equal about £10.50, so yes that is very cheap. The £500 he wins today would be worth over £21,000; his chosen car is £465, which equates to about £19,750, so he’s still bringing back £1,250 as a little cash bonus.


ArsenicEx-Inspector Evans confides in his friend Haydock that he has recognised a local villager, Mrs Merrowdene, as being the suspect in a murder trial nine years ago. Evans still has nagging doubts that she was acquitted in error, and begins to suspect she might attempt murder again, believing the theory that murderers are seldom content with one crime. But can he subtly intercede and prevent another murder in time? It’s a nice little tale but its twist-ending is hugely telegraphed and I could see it coming a mile off. Evans’ theory that murderers usually commit murder more than once was also propounded by Poirot somewhere but I’m blowed if I can remember where.

Christie the poisons expert is definitely on hand with the detailed description of the chemistry tests required to ascertain the presence of chlorates. Mrs Merrowdene’s first husband was an arsenic-eater, which sounds totally bizarre today – but it’s only because the medical benefits of eating arsenic have now been replaced by the use of antibiotics.

The other interesting reference in this story is to how Evans used to have “issues” with fortune-tellers, which used to be an illegal practice. Funny how times change.

Jane in Search of a Job

Job advertYet another tale of a feisty young girl who’s got a bit of nous but no money and wouldn’t mind a spot of adventure. Jane Cleveland answers a newspaper advert, gets the job with some rather extraordinary responsibilities and risks – but for £3000, you’d do it. She certainly does, but it doesn’t quite all work out as she expected though…

Not a bad story by any means, and Jane is a typical Christie-land adventurous gel, so the character’s well drawn. Elements of The Big Four here – which is hardly in its favour. My main quibble with it is that the account of how Jane gets the job simply lasts too long, so it gets a little boring – very nearly half the length of the story as a whole. I didn’t see the plot twists coming though, and it has a rather charming ending.

Jane was to earn £3000 for a fortnight’s work. That’s about £125,000, my kind of salary! In other references – two hotels are mentioned: the Blitz (which appears in The Secret of Chimneys) and Harridge’s, which I assume is a cross between Harrod’s and Claridge’s. There is no Endersleigh Street in London, where the initial interviews take place, although there is an Endsleigh Place near King’s Cross. There are no Earls of Anchester and although there are plenty of Orion Houses around and about, none of them is a stately home.

A Fruitful Sunday

Ruby NecklaceHousemaid Dorothy and her young man Ted are out for a drive when they buy some fruit. They’ve read in the papers about the theft of a ruby necklace worth £50,000; and when they get to the bottom of the bag of cherries – there’s a necklace identical to the one in the news! Will they be honest citizens and report it to the police, or will they keep their accidentally ill-gotten gains?

A moral little tale – or at least, one that questions individuals’ moral compasses; but in effect the tale is a bit of a damp squib, I was a bit unimpressed with this one. To be honest, I didn’t foresee the ending – but then I’m surprised Christie created something as dull as that!

Some interesting comparative values – stolen jewels at £50,000 would have a value today of £2.2m – they’d be the real deal then. A £20 Baby Austin (an Austin 7) would be maybe £900 today. And a two shilling bag of cherries = about £4.50. That’s a lot!! In a typical moment of light Christie xenophobia, Ted blames the French postal system for the theft of the jewels; and there’s a nicely humorous line when Ted tells Dorothy he hasn’t a clue how to find a “fence”; “Men ought to know everything,” said Dorothy. “That’s what they’re for”.

Four stories left – I’m hoping Mrs Christie can turn this around and give us some proper intrigue and suspense!

Mr Eastwood’s Adventure

Cucumber Anthony Eastwood is trying to write his latest detective story – The Mystery of the Second Cucumber – when he receives a wrong number from a foreign lady with a sexy accent begging him to come to her aid. As with many of the central characters of these stories, Mr Eastwood is up for an adventure, so goes out to the pre-arranged meeting place – and then the police arrive…

A mildly amusing story that goes on a little too long and about halfway through I pretty much saw through it and guessed where the wrongdoing lay. Unlike most of these stories you have to feel rather sorry for the central character because he does come out of it awfully badly. (OK perhaps not as badly as in Accident…)

I enjoyed Christie’s evident enjoyment of explaining the writing process in the opening couple of pages in this story – very tongue in cheek. In retrospect it’s also amusing that Eastwood suspects his editor will change the title of the story to Murder Most Foul, or something similar. Back in 1924 when this story was written, that would only have referred to the quotation from Hamlet. Forty years later it would become the title of a film featuring Miss Marple!

The assignation took place at 320 Kirk Street, known for its antique shops. There is a Kirk Street in London, not far actually from Endsleigh Place of Jane in Search of a Job. But it’s not an antique dealing street. 18 guineas for a pair of old Waterford glasses? That’s £800 at today’s value. They must have been something spectacular!

The Golden Ball

Golden ballGeorge is sacked by his uncle (a virtually identical start to The Girl in the Train) and goes off for a drive with his society friend Mary Montresor. During the journey she appears to ask him to marry her – which he is only too delighted to do – so they go looking for a house together. Mary finds one that she is instantly attracted to, and encourages George to accompany her to peek through the window – and then the butler spots them….

I found this story really irritating! It’s clever, for sure, but the main characters are both so pig-headed and stubborn that they deserve everything they get! I didn’t enjoy it. Christie obviously went through a stage of appreciating the surname Montresor (see Jane in Search of a Job). George thinks they might have to go to the Doctor’s Commons for a marriage licence; I’d never heard of that – it was a society of lawyers practising civil law in London.

The Rajah’s Emerald

bathing ladiesJames Bond (yes really) isn’t being treated very well by Grace – he’s trying to court her but she’s of a superior background and financial status so looks down on him. On holiday he’s staying in a distant guesthouse whilst she and her glamorous friends are staying at the posh Esplanade Hotel. He’s not allowed to use the hotel’s changing rooms so has to queue for the changing tents on the beach – and therefore misses out on Grace and the others jumping into the sea. He nips into a private villa to change but this decision will have far reaching effects when he comes back to get dressed…

A nicely written little story that makes us aware of the social awkwardness at the time of changing for beach swimming. Queueing for changing tents seems very anachronistic nowadays, when we’re used to just turning up beach ready with your togs underneath your clothes, or simply doing some indecorous wriggling inside a big towel. Christie goes overboard with the posh young things, including nicknames like Pug and Woggle, and Grace and her friends do behave appallingly snobbishly in respect to James. The crime aspect of this story is not terribly exciting and has similarities to others in this volume, most notably Mr Eastwood’s Adventure – and there are some very far-fetched elements; I mean, who accidentally puts on someone else’s trousers and doesn’t realise it?

There’s a passing reference to “native rulers” – with regard to the Rajah of Maraputna – which today comes across as mildly offensive. James Bond, of course, is a well-known name, but Fleming’s creation didn’t appear in print until 1953, so Christie’s was the forerunner. The story takes place at the exclusive seaside resort of Kimpton on Sea – no idea where that was based on, but there is a village called Kimpton near Welwyn in Hertfordshire. James orders fried plaice and chipped potatoes. The late Dowager Mrs Chrisparkle always used to call chips “chipped potatoes” and I always thought it was a posh affectation – turns out that was the original 19th century name for them.

The smallest furnished bungalow in Kimpton on Sea costs 25 guineas a week to rent – that’s the equivalent of £1100 today. That is pretty expensive.

One story to go!

Swan Song

ToscaSpoilt opera diva Paula Nazorkoff is in London for a Covent Garden season and the opera loving Lady Rustonbury wants to book her for a private performance of Madame Butterfly. When la Nazorkoff realises where Rustonbury is, she agrees but only if she can perform Tosca. Assenting to this wish, all goes well until the baritone singing the role of Scarpia falls ill on the day of performance…

Part inspired story, part load of old tosh, this tale treads a delicate balance between detective fiction and wayward self-indulgence. The twist at the end is easily seen through, the character of Nazorkoff is particularly irritating, and on the whole I think this is a disappointing end to the book. It does make one think, though, how popular Puccini must have instantly been in those days. This story was written in 1926, only two years after he died. Maybe he was the Andrew Lloyd-Webber of his era!

However, it does give rise to one of the best lines in Christie that come under the heading that I usually discuss in her full-length novels as “Funny lines out of context”. Consider this: “Cowan hurried after her as she led the way to the stricken Italian’s bedroom. The little man was lying on his bed, or rather jerking himself all over it in a series of contortions that would have been humorous had they been less grave.”

So, I think it’s fair to give The Listerdale Mystery an overall satisfaction rating of 7/10. Three excellent stories and another three that aren’t half bad; that’s not a bad hit rate for a selection of Christie short stories. It’s a quick and easy read, and not remotely challenging, which is sometimes all you want from a Christie.

Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? With the next book in the Agatha Christie Challenge, it’s back to the novel format; and one of those books that feature none of Christie’s famous sleuths. It’s Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? and if I remember rightly, once you’ve worked out who Evans is, you’ve dashed nearly solved it! If you’d like to read it too, I’ll blog about it in a few weeks’ time. In the meanwhile, happy sleuthing and keep on Christie-ing!

Review – The Philanthropist, Trafalgar Studios, 3rd June 2017

The PhilanthropistI remember seeing the theatre listings in my early teens and noticing The Philanthropist on in the West End and thinking, “what an interesting title. I must look it up.” I can’t remember if I did; I doubt if I’d have been much the wiser. Nevertheless, the lure of this play stayed with me and it was one of the first batch of play texts that I was given as a present from the Dowager Mrs Chrisparkle for Christmas 1975. How much of it I fully understood, is questionable. However, I really loved it – particularly that coup de theatre of a first scene, which I note still draws a huge gasp of breath and uncomfortable nervous laughter throughout the subsequent scene change. Ever since, I’ve always wanted to see a production so that I could judge it for myself. And it’s taken forty-two years for me to achieve it!

Philanthropist castSo, having booked it as soon as it went on sale, imagine my disappointment after it opened and the word got around that it was terrible. One four-star review from the Daily Telegraph; but a distinct handful of one-star reviews almost made me rue my initial enthusiasm. I’d booked for halfway through the run and I rather expected it to have closed before my chance came around. But no, it’s still going; and judging from Saturday’s matinee performance, business isn’t too bad, and the production itself is extremely enjoyable!

Philip and DonChristopher Hampton called it a “bourgeois comedy” with a cheeky nod to the Royal Court, that left-wing palace of the avant-garde, where the original production was staged. It’s also a nod to Molière, whose influence on modern theatre simply won’t go away, with Don Juan in Soho still at Wyndham’s (just), and The Miser having just left the Garrick. One of Molière’s masterpieces is Le Misanthrope, a comedy of manners where the central character rejects the conventions of the day and refuses to see the good in people, and just criticises and complains at everything and everyone with whom he comes into contact. Alceste, the Misanthrope, is the exact reverse of Philip in The Philanthropist, who always sees the good in everything and finds it impossible to criticise. That’s why he can’t lecture in English Literature, only in philology.

Don and CeliaThe play follows the fortune of Philip over a tense few days as he and his colleague Don listen to a keen young playwright read through his script, with disastrous consequences; and then a few days later as Philip and his fiancée Celia host a dinner party spoiled by some awful guests. Life will never be the same and there are some hard questions to be answered the morning after the night before. Can Philip square the circle and carry on? You’ll have to watch it to find out.

Braham and AramintaWhat I always loved about this play is its intelligent script; maybe today it’s a little show-offy but that probably appealed to the 15-year-old me. As Mrs Chrisparkle and I were watching it I realised (and she recognised) that it contains many of my favourite little quotes with which I have peppered my day to day conversations over the intervening decades: “it’s far more important for a theory to be shapely than for it to be true”; “Now perhaps you’ll oblige us with a fart”; “Darling, I hope you’re not going to be bourgeois about this, but I’m going to leave you and the children for a few months.” The 23-year-old Christopher Hampton had a truly sparkling turn of phrase that I have always relished.

Celia and PhilipThe play was written in 1970 and it’s firmly staying there, but I enjoyed the 70s clothing and other contemporary staging details; and talk of the Prime Minister and the front bench being mown down in an assassination attack is more relevant today, although probably less funny. The character types are still eminently recognisable; there’ll always be characters like Philip: well-meaning, inept, too cerebral for their own good; not bad at friendships but hopeless in love; measuring out their lives with coffee spoons, like Prufrock. There’ll always be characters like Braham too; full of conceited, empty swagger, complacent in their ability to turn a nifty phrase, who will ride roughshod over others’ feelings and relationships, simply because he can.

Don Braham and CeliaSimon Callow’s production seems very faithful to the original stage directions, with even the same choice of music to bridge the gap between scenes. He’s definitely letting the script do the talking. He has accumulated a cast of young TV actors, which will no doubt help put bums on seats, although I’ve never seen any of the shows they are in, so I didn’t know any of them from Adam. I thought Simon Bird was excellent as Philip, really conveying the character’s total uselessness and sheer lack of harmfulness. He allows himself the time to wallow in some superb crushed facial expressions and lines, and I felt sorry for him just as much as I laughed at him.

aramintaCharlotte Ritchie is also extremely good as Celia; no nonsense with her public criticisms of Philip, her cut glass sideswipes really hitting home. As her character develops you get a strong sense of her own inner dilemmas, and how hard it is for her to come to a conclusion as to what to do; I thought she was very impressive. And we both really liked Lily Cole as Araminta, provocatively reclining so as to make the maximum impression on Philip; notching up another number on the bedpost for no reason other than her own weakness, even though she gains no benefit from it.

PhilipIt’s a very enjoyable production of Christopher Hampton’s first big success, and it’s really interesting to see it full of life all these years later. I’m very glad to have finally seen it! It’s on until 22nd July.

P. S. When I booked, the Trafalgar Studios was still part of the ATG theatre group. Today, however, they are the first procurement of the new TEG – Trafalgar Entertainment Group – run by Sir Howard Panter and Rosemary Squire – who were the chief execs of the ATG group. Such are the ways of big business. The downside is that your ATG membership card will no longer get you 10% off at the bar. The good news is that they’ve really spiced up the bar experience and I can definitely recommend a bottle of the Verdejo to accompany your theatregoing!

Production photos by Tristram Kenton

Review – Upfront Comedy – Comedy Summerslam, Royal and Derngate, Northampton, 2nd June 2017

Upfront ComedyA brand new venture for us – going to see the comedy show promoted by Upfront Comedy, in the Royal Theatre. I know they’ve visited a couple of times in the past, and I thought, shall I? shan’t I? and I didn’t. More fool me, because Mrs Chrisparkle and I enjoyed two and a half hours of consistently fantastic comedy from some amazing purveyors of the comic commodity!

John SimmitIt’s hosted by John Simmit, who’s done many great things but the only question anyone asks him about is “What’s it like playing Dipsy?” He has a very funny routine about being offered the job – and talks about the success of the Teletubbies show with deserved pride. He’s a very welcoming host and if he has a specialist subject, it would be comedy dancing, taking us all back to our childhoods. He noted that we were a “mixed” audience; not something I’d particularly thought about but he felt it might bring its own challenges as the night wore on – I hope those challenges were all good ones. I also loved his observations about the other show on at the Royal and Derngate that night – That’ll Be The Day (Lord and Lady Prosecco were in attendance) – and how the foyers were full of 75-year-olds with Elvis quiffs.

Mickey SharmaOur first act was Mickey Sharma; in fact, his was the name on the line-up that swung it for me, as I’d read about him in Edinburgh and he was on our long list for last year’s shows; but didn’t quite make it to the short list. What a funny man! Moreover, what an extraordinary voice he has. Mrs C was sent into a blissful cocoon of velvety warmth and kept on going on about his timbre, whatever that is. I do hope he makes a lot of money from voiceovers.

There is something slightly challenging, slightly edgy about his stage persona; he’s not just your usual chap down the pub like the other comics in this line-up. He’s more thoughtful, more calculating; and that makes for a great routine as you can never predict where he’s going to go next. I loved his explanation of his first name, and how it fits in with the rest of his family; his slightly awkward relationship with his wife – particularly when she asks him about trying a threesome; and his explorations of sexy dancing are hilarious. Late arrival Nick tried to upstage him; foolish boy. Mr Sharma certainly knows how to handle the heckles. We both thought he was brilliant and would definitely see him again.

Aurie StylaOur next act, and billed as “internet viral sensation” (so why haven’t I heard of him?), was Aurie Styla. Funny name – sounds like a small but vital element of an old hi-fi system. But he’s a funny guy; no doubt about it, he comes out on stage, grabs us by the metaphysical throat and doesn’t let go for the full half hour. He has brilliant material about his strict family upbringing in comparison with the wimpy weakness of today’s parents; his characterisation of his mum “dealing” with him is fantastic. He tells us all about his horrendous trip to Jamaica – and I think I’ve changed my mind about wanting to go there. There was a wonderful faux pas laugh from one of the young ladies in front of us when Mr Styla said Baa Baa Black Sheep was all about the slave trade. When she realised what she’d done the poor girl was mortified. Mr S is a really likeable guy and we really enjoyed his set. I met him in the interval and bought one of his DVDs for £5. He had an offer of two for £10 but I declined his generosity.

Maureen YoungerAfter the aforementioned interval, our next act was Maureen Younger. She’s the only one on the bill whom we’d seen before, at Screaming Blue Murder in the Underground next door four years ago. She’s another really naturally funny person, with plenty of self-deprecating material about her size (formidable) and her preference for the physical over the cerebral. She has a lot of funny things to say about race and sex, in all its shapes and sizes, and she fits into this format like a glove. She gears quite a lot of her material towards the women in the audience – and the women in our audience really appreciated it!

Curtis WalkerOur final act was Curtis Walker; I’ve heard of him, but never seen him; no, we never watched The Real McCoy, sorry. However, it was clear that everyone else in the audience had not only heard of him but adored him – the wave of warmth to greet him was palpable! I’ve no doubt that Mr Walker had a wealth of material up his sleeve but all he had to do was bounce off the audience – and he was hysterical. He met Jermaine, in the front row – and gave us a great visual reminder of why he would have been given that name; he met Lisa, the kick boxer with the older husband (I mean, no! father) (embarrassing, what?) He explained why he was called Curtis – it was his mother’s maiden name. Shortly afterwards, upstaging Nick piped up with the question, was he named after Tony Curtis…? NO! We all said, and Nick got a little shirty after that. Mr W has a warm, natural, but quite mischievous stage presence and he absolutely Upfront-bannerheld us in the palm of his hand.

A sensational night of comedy; we both thought it was outstanding value for money and all the performers were on superbly top form. I hope it’s not long till the next one!