Everything's As If We Never Said Goodbye...

I don't know why I'm frightened.

I know my way around here.

Well, I wasn't really aware quite how poignant that song from Sunset Boulevard  was going to be when I thought of it as the title of my 'return to the theatre' post.
It's been a fortnight since I returned, but I needed to let it all sink in, and properly process how I feel about it all.
Because I feel a lot of things.

So, on  the 20th May (Eliza Doolitle day to all who celebrate), I returned to the theatre for the first time in 153 days, and sat in an audience for one of the most cathartic, overwhelming, and healing evenings in recent memory.

Amelie the Musical has made it's way into London's West End, in a perfect sized theatre, right on Piccadilly Circus (the rather gorgeous Criterion). It's a show I raved about when I saw it in 2019 on tour, but I longed to see it in a theatre that worked for it (500 seats rather than 1800 seats...it really did look like a postage stamp on the New Theatre Oxford stage).

Amelie is also one of those rare shows (much like Romantics Anonymous), where introverts find themselves staring back at them from the stage. When the title character finishes her working day, and returns home to solitude, it hits a nerve (especially more so after the last year).
It's a story of isolation, and of our desperate need for connection, and I don't think I'd fully prepared for quite how intensely moving that was going to be. 
We haven't been able to properly connect in the way we normally do for over a year now, and whilst we've managed (some of the time), the true toll it has taken, and continued to take is now becoming apparent.
I've reviewed Amelie before (Amelie Review) and my thoughts on the show are largely the same. It's lovely to see it in a sensible sized theatre, where it fits perfectly and feels cosy. The cast (a mixture of new and old performers) is great, and the piece is still perfectly led by the exquisite Audrey Brisson. I'll forever shout that she should be an Olivier award winner and Amelie should have won Best New Musical, but Brisson's performance now has an even deeper level of nuance, charm and cheekiness. Now paired with her real-life partner (Chris Jared) as Nino, moments like Stay take on an even more human meaning, as a real life couple talk about their fears of opening themselves up. 

Emotionally, I've not let it all out very often - I feel like my crying has been turned off over the last year, along with most of my emotions. I kinda stopped feeling...anything for a long time. And whilst I have a lot of theatre booked for the next few months, I can't let myself excited or hopeful. Self preservation, eh? But I did have a proper cry at the last 15 minutes of Amelie, as we begin to look towards our collective healing from the hell we have been through (and basically still are but I won't turn this into an attack on the government).

"Will there be troubles? I don't know.

Will you be with me? I hope so." 

On another note - WORK HAS REOPENED IT'S DOORS!

We've been working quietly behind the scenes to get things ready for Stage 3 of the Roadmap, and in the first two weeks of reopening exactly 1000 people have been to either an indoor show/film or one of our outdoor film screenings (like so many we're trying new things this year and running some outdoor cinema - it's going down a treat, even if I do have to swallow my artistic pride and put on Pretty Woman and The Greatest Showman!)

I can't tell you what a difference it has made, not just physically, but also mentally, in having an audience back. 
Working in the building for the last 5 months, but there being nothing happening, and no-one in the auditorium has just been odd.

But this time we'll be bigger.

And brighter than we knew it.

Yes, everything's as if we never said goodbye... 💗💙

How Do You Measure, Measure A Year...

 I'd thought about how I was going to mark the first lockdown and I tried to write this a couple of times, but I couldn't piece anything together properly.

So I've decided to look at the last year in a different way, and talk about some of the things that got me through the last year.

(Side note - thanks to my internet theatre buddy Kirsty who did this and whose format I have absolutely stolen).

Over the last 12 months (once my brain had gotten over the initial 4 month shock) I've watched a ridiculous amount of TV, listened to an absurd amount of podcasts, read a few books (although I wish I'd read more) and seen some pretty special theatre.
Here's a look at the things that have gotten me though.

TV & Film

The first thing to talk about, obviously, is the final series of Schitts Creek. Whilst we didn't get it on Netflix till mid-June, I found it online early and devoured it in two sittings. A perfect way to round off the perfect sitcom, letting the characters fully flourish in their own ways, and finally get on with their own lives. After that was Ryan Murphy's Hollywood, which (like most Ryan Murphy TV) goes massively off the rails in the middle, but pulls it back for the end.
Then I bought a TV, and I charged my way through the whole of every catch up service. Terrible trash like Selling Sunset, The Job Lot and the truly diabolical Emily In Paris were interspersed with amazing bits of TV like The Marvellous Mrs Maisel, Awkwafina Is Nora From Queens and His Dark Materials. We were treated to the latest installemt of The Crown, which put Britain's finest front and centre in one of the biggest show in the world, and Russell T Davies devastated the world with It's A Sin.

This was finally the moment in my life where I committed myself to the thing that is now the love of my life: Greys Anatomy.
I'd always meant to do it, but when you find that they're already 15 seasons in, you go "can I really watch 330 episodes of this just to catch up?" But as we entered the second lockdown I did, and over the course of the next few months found a group of people I love like my own family, and I went on a journey. I laughed, I cried and most of all I cared about this wonderful group of humans. (I would walk in front of a bus for Cristina Yang or Miranda Bailey and that's unlikely to change any time soon...)

Books

I realised very early on that books were unlikely to be an easy thing for me as I couldn't get my brain to really concentrate for more than 15 minutes! But I've managed a few books since I began to use Audible.

Balancing Acts by Nick Hytner - it's a truly luscious look at Nick's time helming the greatest theatre in the world (and one of the things I have missed most for the last year.) Going right back to the start of his reign as Artistic Director of the National Theatre, and talking in detail about his early productions there, and then his 'big 4' (Curious Incident, War Horse, History Boys and His Dark Materials - two directed by him, and the other two directed by the person who should become the first female Artistic Director of the National: Marianne Elliott.)

How To Stop Time by Matt Haig - I'd had this on my Kindle for a while, and over the course of a month managed to read it whilst spending furloughed afternoons at Blenheim Palace.
A man ages slower than everyone else: he appears to be in his fifties, but is actually hundreds of years old, desperately searching for the daughter that has never met. It's an easy read, with a lovely heartfelt story at the end of it.

Quite by Claudia Winkleman - it's as joyful, humourous and heartfelt as you'd expect a book from Claudia to be. She gives her views on everything, varying from her fringe, The Tube and a lot about boys. I inhaled the audiobook (read by Winkleman) in two days.

How To Be Champion by Sarah Millican - I'm loving autobiographies at the moment (I'm currently reading Emily Maitlis') and Millican's is just fucking joyful (as I told her on Instagram!) It's honest way of doing a biography whilst sort of acting as a self-help book. Again, read (Well, listened to) it in two days.

Podcasts

My absolute saving grace throughout all of this.
Without podcasts I'm honestly not sure I'd have got through until now, and that not an exaggeration.

There have been so many that, on a weekly basis, have kept my brain just about ticking over. The pandemic gave us the return of Smashed, where we finally saw Ally and Olly get drunk and review S2 of Smash through to Ivy Lynn winning her Tony. Every Musical Ever returned after an obscene hiatus and began working their way through the catalogue with artists and creatives giving their opinions on their favourite shows. There are your usual weekly podcasts that have continued to work in isolation, with Off Menu, David Tennant Does A Podcast With... and Table Manners continuing to be brilliant tonics for the outside world. 
Americast worked tirelessly to enable the UK population to fully understand 2020 in American politics, and meant my investment in the election was unlike any I've ever had (I watched CNN for five days...)

The spectacular talents of Oh God What Now (formerly Remainiacs) and The Bunker continued to call out the government bullshit from the second we locked down and crashed out of the EU in January.

But then there were two 'stagey' podcasts that I couldn't do without.

Backstage With offers in-depth interview with performers and creatives in the theatre industry, and over the last year has reached further than they likely would have managed in person to get great chats. Asking the question that hardcore fans would want answered, it's a must for all theatre fans.

And then, along came a podcast that is the inside of my teenage brains.

Two young 20-somethings, who bonded over their love of Wicked and created Sentimental Men. Sitting down with Broadway Green Girls, they asked questions only true Wicked fangirls could ask, and got information even I, in my 10  years of Wicked fandom hadn't managed to get.

Every week for over 5 months, these boys gave us over an hour of content about the show (and the industry) that we all missed so much.

Theatre

And then, there was the thing I love the most. The thing that is still taking too much time to get back to, but the thing that we were given back for a small period of last year.

Lockdown saw theatre-makers turn to online, with the Old Vic reproducing Lungs with Claire Foy and Matt Smith to great acclaim, and a super 'in isolation' production of Songs For A New World, which reflected on the outside world...

In August, almost five months since we went into lockdown as a country, I sat in the pouring rain with some of my closest friends, to watch some of my favourite people do one of the best shows. A Little Night Music was an exceptional display of life, of love, and of remembrance for what we had gone through, continue to go through, and what we lost as a result.

At the end of a week of 'in camera' performances, I went back to Bristol, where I spent a couple of weekends at the start of 2020. Armed with two close friends, and ready to cry some tears at a truly magical piece of theatre, we descended on the Bristol Old Vic, for one final in person performance of Romantics Anonymous. Go read my review of that day, and about what that show means to me.

The rest of the year was remarkably busy, considering theatres were closed for five weeks, but it saw (for me anyway) the definitive production of The Last Five Years at Southwark Playhouse, areturn visit to the Queens of Six, the most ridiculous line up of West End and Broadway talent inthe Kings of Broadway, cabaret concerts from Jenna Russell, Jodie Jacobs and Anna-Jane Casey, and the most fun I've ever had at the theatre with Pantoland at the Palladium

Friends

Finally, a short piece about my wonderful friends this year.

I will try not to be too soppy, but I wouldn't have made it through without a lot of you.

From the endless quizzes, the film nights, the long phone chats, the coffee mornings, the 'just being there' and the mindless chatter about nothing.

Thank you.
Just thank you.

(A special thanks to the Grown Ups - there will come a point when I never want to do a quiz again, but until then you're stuck with me being Richard Osman on a Sunday afternoon xxx)

When I see you all I will actually hug you until I break you (and probably cry a lot when doing it) 

I've Nothing To Say...Well, Nothing That's Not Been Said

I'll be honest, I'm finding this all really hard again.

I don't entirely know what this is going to be, or really why I'm writing it. No, that's a lie. A friend told me this morning that I needed to, and she's right. I don't always feel better once I've got something down, but it nevertheless feels cathartic once I've hashed out a few hundred words.

It's strange to look at the last year. I sort of split it in to three chunks (ironically three lockdowns HA!). And in a really weird way, whilst everyone else has found this gets harder as it goes along, I'm weirdly finding it... easier?

No that's the wrong way to look at it. Less hard. Lockdown 1 was the hardest (because I had six months furloughed from my job and a mental health crisis) and I'm just becoming more accustomed to it. (don't get me wrong they're always hideous, the days blur into one and I've got no idea what's happening anymore.) 

This had been my view point anyway, until about two weeks ago (the picture below does a great job of explaining what I'm currently like)

Basically, I'm getting 'cabin fever' again. 
I had it last year when we got locked down first time. My mental health was falling off a cliff anyway, and then we just got shut off from everyone and I essentially sank into a five month depression (it really was as fun as it sounds...)
I could manage twenty minutes episodes of TV maximum, I couldn't concentrate on books (it took me four months to read Nick Hytner's book about running the National Theatre) and I had little to no interest in exercise or food (also, I started going to sleep at 4am and getting up at 1pm - when there's nothing to get up for, it's too hard to motivate yourself.)

But yes, 'cabin fever'. 
I had my first Covid scare a couple of weeks ago.
Came into contact with someone (for literally ten seconds) who tested positive. So I had to hang out at home for a few days whilst I got a test.
Now, this isn't that big a deal in the grand scheme of things really - it's my first actual scare that I might have caught it and we are coming up to a year into this pandemic (can we just  take a second to think we've been in this for nearly a whole fucking year? More on this later.) But it really caught me off-guard, and caused me to spiral downwards again.  
Throughout all of this, I've not really been that worried about catching it, in the sense that I'm not worried about being ill (I normally have a cold for like 5 months of the year so I'm fairly used to a cough and a bit of a weird taste/smell thing from being bunged up all the time.)
It's the getting stuck in my house and not being allowed to leave for 10-14 days that freaks the absolute shit out of me.

Look, I'm fine with my own company (the reason I saw 105 shows in 2019 is because I spend days out on my own ALL the time.) But the thought of getting stuck in my two up/two down tiny house honestly filled me with dread. I'd do it, obviously, but the thought is awful.

Thankfully, after a rapid test (and then a proper test sent off to the NHS) it all came back negative and I'm absolutely fine (logically I knew I would be). But it got me thinking about this year, and quite what we've all been through. 

I look at it from this angle: everyone has struggled throughout the last year (if you haven't you're a fucking narcissist - please keep away from me) and mentally we've all been through a lot. If you didn't have mental health problems before this, you probably do now. But it truly gets me thinking about those of us who struggle on a day to day basis, and have been through this too. It's odd, that the 'normal' people have been bought to where the anxious and depressed exist on a daily basis, and the anxious and depressed have taken a step further down the road into places we've never been before (well, I did anyway - March-July 2020 was a time that I NEVER want to re-live.)

The last week has, whilst being bloody rough, been hopeful.

I had my first vaccine this week! 
Honestly, having an underlying health issue has never been so good. Got a call on Thursday morning, and Thursday evening I was in having the Pfizer jab!

Very little side effects for me really - my arm was sore for a couple of days, and I felt quite sick and tired for a couple of days but otherwise all grand.
I didn't expect to receive it so quickly I'll be honest, and it's the only thing I'll give the Government credit for in this whole fucking shambolic shitshow, but they are doing good work getting this vaccine rolled out.

But the other thing that has me with some hope is the Government road-map for getting out of this fucking mess.
We know its a lot of ifs and buts, and we know there are a lot of conditions, but the  fact  that there is a provisional date for social distancing being lifted (and therefore getting theatres open again on full capacity), and that date is THIS SUMMER made me WEEP.
I've been relatively good at holding in my emotions throughout all of this (although I do think sometimes if I allowed myself to sit and cry once a week about things then I'd probably feel a bit less shit...!) but truly, hearing theatres be mentioned by the Government, and that there is some sort of plan for how we get reopen was too bloody much.

As I said, I know this is all conditional, and I know that there's going to be delays to all of this (I realistically think it'll be early August before we're actual open), but having some tangible hope for the first time in a long while is much needed.

There are two things that keep me going, and they're both theatre related. They are the following:

1. I will get to sit in the first audience back of Come From Away, with all of my friends, as we promised 12 months ago, and we will cling on to each other and cry our way through a show about people being good to each other and helping each other in the face of a tragedy (see 2020-21)
   
   
2. I will get to sit in the first audience back of Wicked, with all the Wicked fangirls from over the years, and the show will stop when Glinda descends in the bubble and asks "It's good to see me, isn't?"
   That question is going to mean more than it ever has before.

The West End just needs to not all open on the same night, because I cannot be in two places at once.

It's strange to think that, on the 29th March, the 'rule of 6' will come back outdoors, and this is something that we are actively looking forward to. That we can see up to 6 people outdoors again.

This past year has changed my perspective on literally everything. I'm done being sad and unhappy and stuck, and I'm actively changing all of those things (well, beginning to, it's fucking hard.)

But the one thing it hasn't changed is how much I truly adore all of my friends. My people. The ones who are always there when I need them (you all know who you are.)

When we  can hug people again, I will hug you all so hard that I will probably break you.

Hang on people, the finish line of all of this is in sight.
Keep safe, stay sane, we can do this.

*

Anything you do

Let it come from you

Then it will be new

Give us more to see

(Sunday in the Park with George: Stephen Sondheim)

No I Never Heard It At All, Till There Was You...

I haven't written about theatre for a while, but I'm meant to be somewhere tonight that has made me want to.

January was long as hell (I mean, isn't it always) but without the things we all use to get us through it seemed doubly long.

I really missed the theatre in January - it's how I get through. Panto runs at work for the first two weeks of Jan (yeah, we run for a LONG time!), which helps to keep me going,  and then a few trips up to London for some shows helps drag me to the finish line.

But as we all know, none of that happens. We're all indoors, at home, looking out the window at the cold and the wet weather. Trying our absolute hardest not to go batshit insane.

The thing that made me want to write this today is a notification I got on my phone this morning, which told me that tonight I am due to be seeing 'The Music Man' on Broadway with Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster, and it made me incredibly sad (and a little bit emotional).

I'd essentially forgotten that I'd booked tickets because I booked them in September 2019! I've also had a refund on them because of the run being postponed, I just hadn't taken it out of my diary. 
There were plans in 2020 for a trip to New York, and then this trip in 2021, but we all know that the world had other plans. I miss New York terribly - it truly is a one-off, and a place I could spend so much time and constantly constantly discover new things, new places. 

I love a glitzy musical revival, and this promised to be wonderful. Hey, it still will be when we get there. Hugh is a wonderful showman and we know he'll be a great Harold Hill, but I'm so much more excited to FINALLY see Sutton Foster on stage. People are arguing she's a boring choice for Marian, but I think she'll be just delightful. I cannot WAIT to see her do something wildly different (and basically I just want to melt seeing her and Hugh sing Till There Was You)

It made me feel a lot of things, but I think overwhelmingly it made me feel really sad again.
It's been seven weeks since I last saw a piece of theatre (Pantoland at the Palladium at the closing night of the West End in December) and I ache for it. I know it's not safe at the moment - trust me, I get that we are in a worse state than when we shut down originally in March - but it doesn't stop it being painful.
I've said it before and I'll say it again - when your work and life are so entwined as mine is, it all feels doubly hard all of the time. Everyone is having a super hard time, and despite there being some hope, there doesn't seem to be a return to normal life in sight.

I don't really know what this was for, but I just wanted to write something short about something I was really looking forward to.

One day we'll get there...

2020: Show Highlights

For the first 73 days of the year, theatres were operating at their absolute peak. Audiences were packed into auditoriums, watching world-class theatre. As we neared the 16th of March, we knew a shutdown was coming. 

Broadway had closed and the U.K knew that we would likely go dark. But no one could possibly have predicted that we'd end up with a year like we've had.

But before the shutdown, and now during it, there have been some shows that I wanted to highlight as having meant something personally to me.
There are some great productions that don't make the list which I loved - like Sally Cookson's beautiful production of The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Kings of Broadway at the Palace (just after the second lockdown) and Fourth Wall's stunning cabaret series at the Hippodrome - but some shows this year just hit home to me and I wanted to make a note.

None of these are in an order, it's just a list.

                       

A Christmas Carol @ Old Vic

I wasn't sure what I was expecting to get out of A Christmas Carol, but it was a whole lot more than I expected.

I had a Christmas day in January and saw this and The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe in the same day. In the audience at both shows were large groups of school children. Normally this fills me with dread (bad behaviour, teenagers generally being disruptive) but I  couldn't have been more thrilled with them. 
Getting to watch a group of young people (a lot of whom I imagine didn't go to the theatre any other time of the year) experience the magic of a proper piece of theatre was really wonderful. 

It was also really wonderful to see the Old Vic revive the show again as part of their In Camera series in the last few weeks. It translated to screen wonderfully, with the brilliant Andrew Lincoln as probably the best Scrooge the Old Vic have produced yet.

I hope it continues to be a staple of Christmas at the OV for years to come.

Pantoland at the Palladium

So, my last London show of the year (due to a Tier increase) was this year's Palladium Panto.

Being honest, I went expecting to have a bit of a giggle and see a few friends for the last time this year. But I ended up having one of the most fun nights at the theatre I've had in years (probably ever.)

There wasn't an ounce of plot in this show, but I think that's pretty standard for a Palladium Panto. What there was, however, was every Panto gag and routine, huge musical numbers and dance routines, and FILTH, all in the space of two hours.

Julian Clary is a genius, and made life hysterically difficult for the rest of the cast. Beverley Knight kept coming on to sing her face off. Elaine Paige was CAMP and delivered two of her biggest hits. Gary Wilmot sang every tube stop to the tune of the can-can. Nigel Havers and Paul Zerdin were just comedy stars. Charlie Stemp and Jac Yarrow had virtually nothing to do, but made the most of the moments they did. Diversity were great.

But the thing I will remember most from that night is the audience reaction at the end. 
We all knew it was the last time we were going to be in a theatre for a while, and we were all very emotional as a result. I'm not sure I can remember an evening where an audience was so vocal with their appreciation at the end of a show before. The cast had to take eight bows, as we applauded and cheered for over six minutes. A thousand people made the noise of double that in the historic London Palladium.

To know it was the final night of theatre for a while (again) hit hard. But we will be back, brighter and shinier than ever before.

The Last Five Years @ Southwark Playhouse

The Last Five Years really is one of my favourite musicals. I'm a big fan of the reverse timeline plot and the way things are revealed within it. 

Saying that though, I've never seen a production that I was totally happy with. I've never bought the way of doing it where Jamie and Cathy aren't present in each others stories. Its a reason I think the film is the superior version of the show (with two fantastic performances). 

But it was the Southwark Playhouse production that returned in October after being cut short that finally gave me the complete production. The actor-muso element of the production works so well because it has Molly Lynch and Olly Higginson playing each other's songs. Having Jamie on stage whilst Cathy is singing Still Hurting, and having Cathy there playing the piano all through Nobody Needs To Know just adds something that I knew the piece needed but couldn't quantify. 

Southwark Playhouse did the most spectacular job of keeping everyone safe and comfortable, whilst still having a wonderful time in the theatre. I'm glad it got a brilliant return for a month, even if it once again bad to be cut short. 

Jesus Christ Superstar: The Concert @ Regent's Park Open Air Theatre

When I saw the Regents Park production of Jesus Christ Superstar in 2017, I found it distinctly 'meh'. I saw it in daylight, so no lighting or atmosphere, and I always think that did it a disservice. 

That said, it's a good score, and when you have superb voices singing it.

I bloody LOVED this concert staging.

I mean calling it a concert is ridiculous, because all of Drew McOnie's Olivier award-winning choreography is recreated to it's fullest potential. Open Air Theatre really did pull out all the stops, reassembling previous casts, restaging to suit the social distancing requirements, but at no point losing what the core of this production is.

Ricardo Afonso and Pepe Nufrio truly are two of the most talented vocalists I've seen in a long time. Roaring their way through Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice's rock score, there are two midshow standing ovations every night (Superstar and Gethsemane) - they sure knew how to write a showstopper.
Backed by an ensemble of some of our greatest talents, it was such a treat, and a well-needed return to the theatre in the summer.

(Full thoughts on this available here )

Romantics Anonymous @ Bristol Old Vic

If I can thank 2020 for one thing, I thank it for this show.

When I walked into this show, I knew it was about chocolate. 
When I walked out of this show, I'd finally found a piece of theatre where I found myself staring back at me, warts and all.

Romantics Anonymous is truly the perfect chocolate box of a musical, with two central characters who are imperfect introverts. Angelique and Jean-Renee spend these two hours finding themselves, with the help of their fellow 'les emotif anonymes' and workers of the chocolate factory. 

It's a riot of a show. It's hilarious and heart breaking. There is a scene so funny that I honestly almost fell out of my chair, immediately followed by a scene that tugged at my heart so hard I found it hard to breathe. Top that off with a score that is every bit as varied, and you have a show that is, to me, perfect.

On top of that, I got to experience this show with dear, dear friends and got new friends because of it. Theatre is such a community and I think that is one of the things I miss the most at this time...

Wise Children, and Emma Rice specifically, have done great things in the face of the year we have endured. As part of their work from now on, all their shows will include streaming options, after 10,000 people across the world watched the streaming of Romantics. This can only be a positive, as theatre will become more accessible to those who cannot travel, or who cannot afford it.

(Full thoughts on what was undoubtedly my show of the year are available to read here)

Waitress @ Adelphi Theatre

Now, lord knows I was not particularly kind about this production when it opened in London. There were just so many bad decisions (or decisions that didn't make sense) but they truly managed to pull it back in 2020. 

I saw Waitress on Broadway in 2018 and was not thrilled by it (but I didn't think the cast were particularly strong...) so I resisted seeing it in London until Sara Bareilles popped by for a bit, and then I realised this show has a huge amount of heart.  You can see yourself in at least one of the characters (I mean, I can anyway) and the score truly has got some absolute bangers in it (I mean sitting in the same room whilst Sara sings She Used To Be Mine like her life depended on it is something I probably won't ever recover from.)

It's a shame it ended sooner than it did, as I feel like it had settled and was finally in it's stride. I hope the tour goes ahead and we get a great cast out on the road with this show.

Ocean At The End Of The Lane @ Dorfman, National Theatre

I had to rearrange my tickets for this 3 times and almost missed the damn thing. 

But thankfully I caught the last matinee of this absolute TREAT. 

I couldn't work out how they were going to put this novel on stage, because it crosses worlds, with huge battle scenes and extensive magic. But they really made a great job of using a small stage, old tricks and some clever staging to truly make you feel as if you'd been transported to another time and place. I  didn't think it was going to be my cup of tea, but I really enjoyed it!

I am not a fan of the Dorfman at the National cause the sightlines are a nightmare unless you're in the expensive seats. But for this show, it worked a treat because I had the most interesting view. I could see the show, but I was at such an angle I could also see the audience, and thus the kids in the audience. Watching children at (for some of them) their first proper piece of theatre was so great. I knew how some of the tricks worked, and how the magic worked, but seeing the wonder on their faces trying to work out how a woman kept appearing from different doors was so heartwarming. 

Very pleased this will transfer to the West End in 2021 - I will absolutely be returning to see it again! 

Turn Up London

It would be wrong in this year of streaming to not include at least one piece of streaming. And the one to pick was obvious.

In response and support to the Black Lives Matter movement, creatives Ryan Carter and Nicole Raquel Dennis (with the backing of Fourth Wall Live) produced Turn Up London: an artist fundraising event in reply to the outcry that happened across the summer after the death of George Floyd. The idea of black people, built by an incredible array of black artists.

Set against the backdrop of the beautiful Cadogan Hall (which I miss TERRIBLY), we were given over two hours of astonishing performances (both virtual and live from the stage.) There are too many to list them all, and the concert was about us as a  collective, but a few highlights that I can still clearly remember are: 

• Obiama Ugoala's blistering rendition of Make Them Hear You from Ragtime
• The astonishing duet of For Good from Wicked's first black Elphaba and standby Glinda (Alexia Khadime and Brittney Johnson)
• A four Motormouth version of I Know Where I've Been
• Claudia Kariuki and Danielle Steers show-stopping version of No More Tears

It was one of those things during the first lockdown, when we couldn't get into an audience anywhere. But we felt like we still had theatre, evenif we had to watch it on a screen.

Bring on Turn Up London 2021!

City of Angels @ Garrick Theatre

No matter how hard it tries, City Of Angels never seems to run for as long as it should do. The original production ran on Broadway for just over two years, for four months in the West End, and the first incarnation of this revival ran for only two months.
The West End revival got less than two weeks of shows before it was forced to close due to the pandemic.

In just two weeks of shows, the cast were well on their way to having this tricky material cracked. I saw second preview so there were a few things to tighten up but the thing that really shone with this show was it's cast. Some of our absolute best performers were in this show: Hadley Fraser, Rebecca Trehearn, Rosalie Craig and Rob Houchen, alongside newbies to the West End Vanessa Williams and Theo James. It truly was a delight of a cast.

There's rumours that once we can get audiences in theatres again, we are going to get this cast together again for a concert of the show for a week or so, which would be utterly fabulous. It's a brilliantly funny show, that really packs a punch with a cast this talented.

A Little Night Music: In Concert @ Holland Park Opera

For five years, I have been asking for a repeat of the 2015 concert production of A Little Night Music that Alex Parker conducted, with Janie Dee and Joanna Riding. I honestly didn't think we'd ever get them together to do it again.

What I really didn't expect was for the first live piece of theatre after lockdown to be... this!
(Full thoughts on this wonderful day are here)

I love A Little Night Music. I love it's premise, its music, it's simplicity and it's poignancy. But what I love most about the show is when a spectacular cast bring it  to life. 

Janie Dee and Jo Riding are two of my absolute favourites and they show it in spades why they are so good. Their comedic timing, their ability to pull on your heartstrings, their wonderful voices; all just so great. Accompanied a cast that was outrageously good (getting to see a heavily pregnant Laura Pitt-Pulford blast out The Miller's Son once again was a real treat) and a orchestra battling to stay afloat, it was magic. 

Truly a night I will never forget. As we sat in the grounds of Holland Park Opera, 200 people were at the chateau awaiting the arrival at the Armfeldts for a weekend in the country. Being there with friends, seeing people I admire perform this material, and sitting through a biblical rainstorm to get to the end of it. I truly will never forget the evening for as long as I keep going to the theatre (which I hope will be many years to come.)

*

I see a lot of theatre in a normal year (somewhere around 90-100) and even in the most abnormal year, I still managed to see 56 pieces of theatre. As a result of that, it's impossible to remember all the shows that I see in great detail. But this year will be different. In this year I think I will remember almost every single show I saw, and how it made me feel in the worst of times. 

I think I can confidently say that this year has reaffirmed just how special time in a theatre is. The times we have spent together, as a group, since the pandemic began, have been some of the absolute best of my life. 

Theatre, above anything else, is about a moment. A single moment that you cannot recreate exactly. There are moments this year, performances I have seen and audiences that I've been in that I'd give so much to see again. But we have the future. We are going to be back as we were before. It might take us some time to get there, but the theatre community's unbreakable spirit has proven this year that we will rebuild. We will come back home. And I will be there, with bells on, in the front row, cheering on all the wonderful people who will make it happen. 

Its been a hard year for everyone, but a hard year when your life (work and leisure) completely shut down in March and is getting knockback after knockback on the road to recovery. 

I've never been as proud to work in the arts as I am at the moment. My work colleagues this year have become some of my closest friends. My closest friends have become my family. We have ridden the storm and managed to battle through. We've been some of the lucky ones and I'll never take that for granted. 

Be kind to yourself these next few months. We can see the way out. The vaccine is here and being rolled out. We just have to hold our nerve for a little while longer (and I know that is easier said than done.). 

All my love to your fabulous creatures - I'll see you at the first show of Come From Away with all my best friends. We'll be the ones having another breakdown when the cast walk on stage.

 

Back at the start of a moment❤️

2020: Performance Highlights

Well ladies and gentleman, I think we can all agree that 2020 has been one giant clusterfuck.

I began writing this post earlier this week, as my usual top ten performances of the year. But I’ve had a change of heart as to how I should go about it this year.

Essentially, this last week has been fucking mental and everything changed again. Once again we are back to having to live one day at a time, as this country goes up the spout. My change of heart is thanks to a friend who also reluctantly did a roundup of the year actually, but I guess the sentiment is for everyone.

Basically, it feels wrong to put shows in an order. It’s been a devastating year for the Arts, and it just feels wrong to rank from 10 to 1 like normal. Everyone who managed to make theatre happen in this godforsaken year was, frankly heroic, and they deserve to be recognised as such. It just isn’t fair to pit people against each other right now.

So, I’m going to group together people in the same show in no particular order. You’ll still get the same thoughts from me that you’d normally get, just in a slightly different way

Gavin Creel and Sara Bareilles  in Waitress

It was no secret that I had issues with the London transfer of Waitress - literally none of their casting/marketing decisions made sense, or had any real logic behind them.

But then, at the end of January, two Broadway stars arrived in the West End, and everything changed.

Getting to see Sara Bareilles play the part that she wrote the voice for was hugely moving. Whether or not she is the greatest actress in the world is sort of beside the point, because she pours every piece of herself into the score that she wrote and makes it come alive in a way no one else possibly could. Whether it's in the scenes where she's funny or feisty, or in one of her soaring ballads when she is singing for her LIFE, there isn't a moment that doesn't have a purpose.
Joined on stage by one of her best friends (the utterly delightful Gavin Creel), the audience is treated to one of strongest connections between two people that I've seen for a long time. The material between the two goes beyond a clique, and they show that in spades.

Hadley Fraser and Rebecca Trehearn in City of Angels

When I say City Of Angels assembled the best cast we've probably ever seen in the West End, I don't know that I am exaggerating. It's sort of criminal that they never made it to their opening night, and only got a couple of weeks of previews. But the two people I always think of when I think of the show are Hadley Fraser and Rebecca Trehearn.

Hadley Fraser holds together every show he's a part of, and none more so here as the leading writer, Stine. Ever present, even if not directly involved in the scene, he is shaping the narrative, holding  the focus, and singing up an absolute storm. 
As usual, Rebecca Trehearn walks away with the show with one number. You Can Always Count On Me is the show highlight and Rebecca gets to show just how funny she is. 

I can only hope that more people will get to see this group of people deliver this material in the future. City of Angels is never with us for long enough, and this production is too brilliant to not get the full run it deserves.

Jodie Jacobs in cabaret at the Hippodrome

When we came out of the November lockdown, my first thing back was Jodie Jacobs' cabaret at the Hippodrome. It was literally the stagiest night you've ever seen - I sat down with my pal (socially distanced before you all bark) and realised I knew the people infront, behind and across from me. All the stagey gang were in for a brilliant night.

The fact that Jodie Jacobs isn't one of our biggest musical stars and that she doesn't just have the pick of the West End is CRIMINAL. Her voice is outrageous, her comic timing is second to none, and she can emotionally sucker-punch you when you're least expecting it. 

She's just an absolute star and I frigging love her. 
WRITE SHOWS FOR JODIE JACOBS AND GIVE HER ALL THE ROLES.

Janie Dee in A Little Night Music

If I hadn't put this in, the person I sat next to at this show would have personally hunted me down and murdered me (with good reason let's be real.)

Janie Dee is one of my favourite performers and she basically single-handedly pulled me from a deep depression (cause by this this godforsaken year.)

The first thing to happen post-lockdown was a concert production of A Little Night Music at Holland Park Opera, produced by Dee and Alex Parker. It was another chance to see lots of the 2015 cast (I'll talk about this all in my other post) but I really have to just briefly mention Janie.

We sat in the torrential rain for nearly two hours, and watch Janie Dee deliver a masterclass. Stepping out from under the canopy into the rain to deliver Send in the Clowns took on such a different reading. We laughed until we cried, as did most of the cast. We almost caught hypothermia but man it was worth it.

Andrew Scott in Three Kings

I didn't watch an awful lot of streaming theatre, because frankly it hurt too much to not be able to be in a theatre watching these shows.

But you make an exception when Andrew Scott decides to do a play.

One man shows are difficult, especially when it's streamed. Trying to hold an audiences attention for nearly 90 minutes is hard. But then you have Andrew Scott, who could honestly read his way through the phone book and we'd probably all still give it a standing ovation.

He's just...incredible. He's funny, he's dramatic, he's moving and he's honest. That's the thing with Andrew, it's his honesty. It makes him one of our finest actors.

Ricardo Afonso in Jesus Christ Superstar: The Concert

Seriously though gang, Ricardo Afonso is one of the absolute best male vocalists working in musical theatre. When we reopen I have a list of shows for him to lead.

Getting to see him rip his way through the score of Jesus Christ Superstar was really bloody special. It was one of my first shows back post-lockdown, and the first time I'd had some singers belt in my face for a while. And it reminded me how much I've come to rely on it. 

Ricardo bookends the show with Heaven On Their Minds and Superstar, and just gets more and more vocally outrageous as it goes along. On top of that, his performance becomes more moving, more desperate and more intense. I saw him in We Will Rock You about 12/13 years ago and he was UTTERLY BRILLIANT. It's just thrilling to watch - I'm really glad that I caught it.

 Carly Bawden and Marc Antolin in Romantics Anonymous

God, where on earth do you even start with these two?

I've talked a lot about why this show means a lot to me (see here: What If We Tried Something New? - Thoughts on Romantics Anonymous (hardtoseethelightnow.blogspot.com) ) but it essentially was the first time I saw myself staring back at me from the stage. In both Carly Bawden and Marc Antolin's performances I saw an introverted person who's questioning their right to love.

Watching Marc Antolin sing 'If She Loved Me' was like being unable to breathe. The journey in the space of two minutes that he takes you on is so moving, I get chills just thinking about it. Add to the mix the slow burner performance of Carly Bawden who begins to flourish as the show goes on and you have two leading performances that you'll never forget.

I saw this show live 3 times in January (twice in a day...!)  and then live again in September when Wise Children bought it back for one night to the Bristol Old Vic. It was a strange bookend to the first lockdown, and getting to experience it with lots of friends was just so wonderful.

The complexities of the performances these two give will stay with me for a long time, and I hope we are allowed to have it back in London again soon...

2020 wasn't what anyone expected, but the one thing it did do was cement to everyone just how important the Arts are.
No matter what the Government say, or don't say, or don't do, we have to keep the faith. Performances like these are going to be part of the healing of the country in 2021 and beyond. The Arts will be there to help the country, and the world, make sense of what we have been through, and be able to put ourselves back together again...

I Know That We're Gonna Dance Again

I've written about all the negatives over the past few months, so it seems only fair that I write something about one of the positives that has FINALLY happened.

On Monday morning, 1385 organisations received the much needed news that they had been successful in receiving a grant as part of the Culture Recovery Fund. For those that don't know, this is from the Government's 1.57 billion 'rescue package', that arts organisations applied for back in August. 
One of the organisations who received a much needed grant was my place of work, and my home: The Theatre, Chipping Norton.

It's a really strange thing when your place of work is so much more than that, and it actually is your home. If you didn't know, I essentially grew up in that theatre, and it has literally been my home from home for the last 18 years (and my full time employer for 6 and a half years).

The pandemic has stopped the arts in their tracks, and threatened the livelihoods of hundreds of thousands (with tens of thousands having already been made redundant or forced to take employment elsewhere.) This funding has secured our staffs employment through the winter and into early next year, when we plan to reopen fully in the Spring of 2021. I think in reality that's optimistic (largely due to the government's shambolic response to the situation)  but we're planning and adapting to our ever changing surroundings. It's what we artists do: we look at what is around us and react.

Inevitably, not everyone was as lucky as we were. Two thirds of applications were successful, but that means that around 700 applications weren't. Which is really rough. There are organisations that are going to really struggle in the coming months, and some of them won't survive. And that's really hard. 

There was a way of getting all our venues through this if the crisis had been acted on sooner, and the Government had invested in us the way that we really deserve, but hey, we are where we are. If you have any money that you could donate to one of these venues, who will be frantically working out how they are going to keep going, you'll never know how much they appreciate your generosity. 

Herbert Kretzmer (the lyricist of Les Miserables) died this week. It's a real loss to the theatre community, but he truly left us with some of the most hopeful words in the musical theatre canon. If you're looking for a lyric about hope, there isn't one better than this:

"Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise"