Six The Musical @ Oxford Playhouse - August 2021

As soon as theatres were allowed to operate again (albeit socially distanced), the producers of Six bought it straight back out on the road, making it one of the first musicals back on tour in the UK as we emerge from lockdown.

Now playing to full capacity, it's currently at the Oxford Playhouse, where I was lucky enough to catch the show. Originally booked in for a week in August 2020, the show sold so well that Six is now running for a fortnight, and is sold out for its entire visit.

Now, I'm no stranger to Six: I originally saw the show in a cow-shaped tent in Edinburgh at the Fringe Festival in 2018 and fell head over heels in love with it's genius, inventive way of essentially giving a history lesson in an hour and fifteen minutes. 
Since then, I've seen the show multiple times, in both of it's London homes (The Arts and The Lyric) and out on tour in 2019. For me, it's one of the best British musicals of the past decade, and it's stratospheric rise to being a Broadway show just before the pandemic hit is unbelievably deserved. I don't think there's another show in recent memory that has had a journey as fast from 'Fringe show' to 'Broadway smash-hit' - eighteen months from Edinburgh to New York - it just doesn't happen! Writers Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss really have tapped into something with this show - it's got masses of broad appeal, but with some brilliant hidden nuggets for the hardcore musical theatre fan (the reference to Little Shop of Horrors in the opening number makes me smile every time I hear it...)

 

One of my favourite things about seeing this show multiple times is getting to see different women's interpretations of the Queens. One of my favourite things about theatre is how differently people can portray a role with the same source material, and it's so true with Six. 
There's no 'lead' in this show - all six actresses have an equal cut of the show and that's just a great thing. The plot follows the women's search for which of them had the worst time married to their mutual husband, and that Queen shall lead the girl-band they are forming.

It's useless to try to compare the Queens as they're all so different, but it's worth highlighting them all just for a moment. 

Lauren Drew's brilliantly Welsh Catherine of Aragon kicks off the show with fire, sass and attitude, whereas Maddison Bulleyment pulls every ounce of comedy out of Anne Boleyn's brilliant number 'Don't Lose Your Head'.
Caitlin Tipping has the emotional height of the show with 'Heart of Stone' and does great work with it, and then Shekinah McFarlane smashes Anna of Cleeves' no-nonsense 'Get Down' out of the park.
Six superstar Vicki Manser (who started out her journey with the show as a swing and ended up covering and playing all SIX of the Queens at one point or other) plays the queen we arguably know the least about - Katharine Howard - and her account of her life is probably the most harrowing, and Manser hits every beat of the nearly 7 minute 'All You Wanna Do'.
Rounding off the show is Elena Gyasi as the one who survived. Catherine Parr wants no part of the contest by the end of the show: who had the worst time sort of becomes irrelevant once you sit and realise that these women are better together than trying to tear each other apart. Gyasi's 'I Don't Need Your Love' isn't about winning the contest: its about survival and it's really moving.

There really isn't a lot left to say.

Six is a sensation, and it's success in mainstream musical theatre is a real boost for new British musicals. We have so many wonderful composers and lyricists making new work that isn't yet on this scale (in the West End or in large touring venues like this.) 
If I could make one suggestion, it's to seek them out. Go and see shows at places like Southwark Playhouse or The Other Palace (I am there tomorrow to see the new musical Operation Mincemeat on the recommendation of lots of friends and can't wait!) or go to a local 'scratch night' and find these new artists and support them. 

Six is touring nationally, reopening at the Vaudeville at the end of September, and reopening on Broadway later in the Autumn.
Don't miss it.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat @ London Palladium - August 2021

 

So listen.

When it was announced that the 2019 revival of Joseph was returning to the Palladium, I had no real desire to see it. I saw the production with Sheridan Smith, and had a nice enough time, but unlikely the rest of my generation I wasn't raised on the Donny Osmond movie and find Joseph to be quite 'meh'.

But then, the legend that is Linzi Hateley was announced to be returning to the production as the Narrator for some 'special performances' when Alexandra Burke (who took over from Smith in this year's production) was otherwise engaged.

 

Returning to the part she originated thirty years ago - of COURSE I was going to have to be there!

At the end of watching this show, I instantly text someone saying "I never want to see Joseph again, because it will never be done better than this," and there is one reason for that.

Linzi bloody Hateley.

Now, it's sort of the dream entrance for any character. Stage goes dark in the middle of the overture, and two spot lights hit a figure facing the back of the stage. That figure turns round, smiles and the audience ERRUPTS. The look of joy on Hateley's face as the wall of love and support was just wonderful to see (I absolutely cried - I am ridiculous).

I had forgotten that the Narrator essentially doesn't leave the stage for the entire show (and quite how hard that means Hateley has to work!) but the woman does not break a sweat and gives a incredible performance.

There's a LOT going on in this production for the Narrator - multi-roling, tap dancing, playing the spoons just to start - but Hateley knocks every element of this character out of the park. It's very "nudge nudge wink wink" comedy (as opposed to Smith's loud and outright humour that she used in the 2019 production) and it works a lot better in my eyes; the Narrator is in on the humour of it all, rather than the slightly bonkers alternative that we've seen before.

But the thing that really shines in this production is Hateley's sensational voice. Whilst I don't listen to Joseph regularly, if I do it's the Prologue from the 1991 recording - there's something really magical about THAT voice, and the way it elevates the material. 
Thirty years on, and the voice sounds exactly the same. There's been some tinkering with keys here and there because of the Narrators before her in this production don't have the incredible range needed, but it doesn't stop Hateley from really getting to belt her face off in moments like Pharaoh's Story and Go Go Go Joseph (I literally shouted 'go on Linzi' at the end of Act 1 as she's doing 'ahead of your time' up the octave!) 

There's something quite emotional about getting to see Hateley reunited with Jason Donovan - this time taking on the role of Pharaoh. Their friendship has been well documented across the years, and it's great to see them together on stage. In the fleeting moments the two characters spend on stage at the same time, you can see they're having a ball.

Add into that mix Jac Yarrow, back again as Joseph and better than ever. That man is really going to one of our biggest leading men in the next few years and it's great to see. He properly stops the show with a truly wonderful rendition of Close Every Door 

So the production itself is essentially still the same as it was in 2019. 

The Narrator is now more of a Pied Piper character, who uses the children that she's telling the story to bring it to life. You've got kids playing Potipher, some of the brothers, the Butler and Baker and so on. 
It's an approach that I still don't think fully works on every level. There something a little odd having Potipher played by a child, and Mrs Potipher by a grown woman - I know we suspend all belief in theatre but it still doesn't gel with me. But I cannot deny there's something really wholesome about the kids being some of Jacob's sons, and them just generally being around and fully in the story.

It's a week or so until the end of this revival, but I really don't think I'll see it again. I've seen the ULTIMATE Narrator, and an absolute top notch Joseph in the same production - short of casting Lady Gaga as the Narrator I don't think I'd get anything else out of it other than what I've already got.

My suggestion though?

Try to get in to see it - if you can get in to see Linzi please do, but it's a really fun couple of hours and a  great way to get back into the theatre after such a long time away!

⭐⭐⭐⭐

South Pacific @ Chichester Festival Theatre - August 2021

 

The annual pilgrimage to Chichester's summer musical is one of my favourite days of the calendar. It's nearly a 10 hour round trip in a day, but usually worth it for a really brilliant revival in the glorious Festival Theatre.

2020 denied me of my trip, but last weekend I made the journey, to see the wonderful revival of South Pacific. 

Boasting one of Rodgers and Hammerstein's finest scores, South Pacific is lead to perfection with a truly astonishing cast, who really are an embarrassment of riches.
As Ensign Nellie Forbush, Gina Beck delivers a beautifully complex performance of a woman struggling with her inbuilt prejudice. She has the hopeful and joyous sides of Nellie with her glorious, glistening soprano voice, and then emotionally delivers in the climaxes of the two acts. Opposite her as Emile de Becque is the magnificent Julian Ovenden. Ovenden is unquestionably one of our finest musical theatre actors, and it's showcased to perfection here. His voice is like hot chocolate, and his performance of 'This Nearly Was Mine' (centre stage, in a spotlight, stood still), is the definition of a showstopper and the emotional highpoint of the piece.

Joanna Ampil is a different Bloody Mary to anything I've seen before - she's a driven mother wanted the best for her child rather than the usual shouting islander she is sometimes portrayed to be, and it works an absolute treat.  Zack Guest (standing in for Rob Houchen) gives a strong yet subtle performance as Lt Cable, the young man who joins the war and is the one to cut through the racism with the excellent 'You've Got To Be Carefully Taught'.

Chichester's Artistic Director Daniel Evans has produced a production of the highest quality, with performers and creatives at the top of their game. Ann Yee's choreography is gritty and cuts to the heart of the piece right from the start, with the use of Bloody Mary's daughter Liat as the thing to pull the show full circle. Cat Beveridge conducts a wonderful orchestra of 17 (including a harp!) which make this sumptuous score soar to the it's fullest potential. Add in an almost constantly moving revolve, and a set design from Peter McKintosh that continues to surprise at every turn, and you have all the ingredients come together for a first rate revival.

There are conversations that have begun to occur as to whether we should still be putting on productions of musicals that we find to be 'problematic'. Shows like Showboat, Carousel and South Pacific deal with difficult topics and issues like  racism and domestic violence. They are shows that would, in today's society, more than likely not be made. And that presents a wider discussion as to how we present these shows when we want to revive them. 

Regent's Park have revived Carousel this summer, in a radical new setting, arrangement and ending. People are loving it, but I didn't. What they have done with their tampering with the ending is fundamentally change what Carousel is. Being clear, I take nothing away from the performances in this piece - Carly Bawden and Joanna Riding particularly knocked it out of the park (if you'll pardon the pun!) 

However, the creative team obviously aren't happy with the message of the original ending, which honestly is fine. But they have radically changed the final 30 minutes so much that it no longer bears any resemblance to what Rodgers and Hammerstein actually wrote, and the story they were trying to tell. If you're not happy with the ending of a show, to the extent that you want to change it so much... do a different show! 

Going into South Pacific, I was worried what Evans might have done to the piece to address this. What he has cleverly done, is present it in a completely traditional way, as a period piece. It's set firmly in it's original time and location, and whilst you can feel echoes of it's relevance because of the context of political and world movements over the last few years, it's presented in the way it was intended, and thus it works perfectly. 

There's a moment at the end of the first act, where Nellie's ingrained racism is put on full show when she is introduced to Emile's mixed race children. When she reacts horrified at discovering they are the children of the man she loves, over half of the upper middle-aged, middle-class, white audience at Chichester laughed. It was enormously uncomfortable that, 70 years on since the premiere of this masterpiece, audiences are still having reactions like that...

Revivals are the way to my heart, and they don't come much more grandly cast and presented than this. There are a few houses it'd fit nicely into in the West End, if Chichester wanted to line up a transfer...!

⭐⭐⭐⭐

John and Jen @ Southwark Playhouse - August 2021

Almost 30 years after it was first performed, Andrew Lippa and Tom Greenwald's two-hander musical has made it's way to the UK. Having previously been led in earlier productions by Carolee Carmello and Kate Baldwin, the show is now in the hands of a third redhead: the wonderful Rachel Tucker, alongside newcomer Lewis Cornay. The first half centres on brother and sister John and Jen and their childhoods. Following a tragedy, Act 2 follows Jen and her new son John (who she named after her brother.)

The piece has changed setting slightly since it's original outing and spans 1985-2022 (rather than the original 1950-ish to 1990), but its story and score, as far as I understand remain largely the same.

It isn't very often that you get to sit in somewhere as intimate as the Little at Southwark Playhouse and see someone as talented as Rachel Tucker up close, but that's exactly what we are being treated to at the moment. 

Tucker (soon to be jetting off back to Broadway to reprise her Olivier-nominated performance in Come From Away) takes Jen on a real journey across the two hours. Starting as a child playing the full range of one character up to being a mother of an college-headed son, her Jen is both head-strong and gentle. It takes until the 11 o'clock number for Tucker's signature belt to really get a time to shine, but 'The Road Ends Here' really is a moment in which  she is able to fully let rip and its thrilling to watch.

Lewis Cornay matches Tucker at every turn with his excellent performance too. He slots into the younger side of John very easily, and manages to find all of the comedy that you'd expect to come out of a five year old, but give it some real heart too. 

It's a beautifully orchestrated piece, with an orchestra of 4 under the direction of Chris Ma. Lippa and Greenwald's score is expertly played by 3 strings and keys, and it enables it to be care-free to begin with, but then to really drive home the emotional numbers. Be under no illusion that this musical is light and fluffy; there are really adult themes of domestic violence, war and loss at play here. 

Whilst the score itself is a little hit and miss for a good portion of the first half, it really is the two performances that elevate the material above and beyond.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

Baghdad Cafe @ Old Vic Review - July 2021

 

When faced with the prospect of what to come back in a full production with, I'm sure the Old Vic had many an option to choose from. 
Whether it was conscious or not, what they've chosen could not be more perfect to welcome back people into their auditorium for a full run of a show for the first time in 16 months: Wise Children's adaptation of the cult 1987 film, Baghdad Cafe.

It's a straight forward enough plot: following an argument, and subsequent separation from her husband, a German woman (Jasmin) arrives at the Baghdad Cafe, just as the owner (Brenda) is throwing out her own husband. Despite incredibly frosty first impressions and a lengthy altercation, the two women eventually become strong friends.

At this time, it's a really wonderful thing to see a story about isolation that is so full of hope. In this little place in the middle of nowhere, two people who are absolute opposites find a way of putting their differences aside and developing a real friendship that they wonder how they managed without. 

Sandra Marvin and Patrycja Kujawska give really special performances as Brenda and Jasmin. Marvin is very grounded in her matriarchal performance of Brenda - a mother who, in her own way, is trying to do the best for her daughters Phyllis and Salome, whereas the mystery of Kujawska's story takes a little while to become clear (possibly a touch too long). Le Gateau Chocolat puts in a solid supporting performance as Brenda's long suffering husband Sal, and Gareth Snook (a Wise Children staple) is sweet as Rudi, a longterm resident of the Baghdad Cafe.

Haunting the 90 minute piece is the beautiful 'Calling You' by Bob Telson. It is fragmentedly used throughout the narrative, showing the internal pain of the characters at various moments of the story, and culminates in a really moving moment at the end of the piece.

It's a gorgeously designed show by Lez Brotherson (in 'cahoots' with Vicki Mortimer). The stage is sparse to begin with, with a caravan on stage and a car in the audience (!). But through director Emma Rice's signature style of production, the stage is soon filled and the stage begins to feel like it's bursting at the seams. It unashamedly screams that it's a Rice piece of theatre, with all her usual devices used in a superb way. From seeing pieces like Wise Children and Romantics Anonymous, they're familiar, but there's something so warm about them, even when you know what to expect.

There's scope for an argument that this piece is an example of 'style over story'. Having not seen the film that it's based on, I can't really comment on whether they've sacrificed some of the story to enable Rice to really put her signature stamp on it. If they have, I still think it works. The relationship between Jasmin and Brenda could probably be fleshed out a little bit before they come to an understanding, and an eventual friendship, but in a 90 minute piece I think it worked well.

⭐⭐⭐⭐

"Times Have Changed!" Anything Goes @ Barbican Theatre Review - Summer 2021

There is absolutely no way that this 'review' is going to be coherent in any way, because it is days since I saw this show and I literally have thought of nothing else every waking moment. 

So let me tell you a story.

Ten years ago, sixteen year old Ryan fell in love with a YouTube video, of a Broadway star doing a performance at the 2011 Tony Awards. Repeatedly watching that video on at least a weekly basis, until that tap routine was so engrained in his head, that he knew every single beat of it (despite not being able to tap dance a step). He obsessed over it, and every piece of info about that production.
 Never, ever in his wildest dreams did he every think that he'd ever get to see that performance in real life, let alone a decade later.

But that's exactly what happened to me on Friday night, when I went to the first preview of Anything Goes at the Barbican, starring the one and only Sutton Foster.

First previews of new productions are always special. The audience are always super-hyped, and the atmosphere is always superb. But because we've been starved of theatre for so long, this was a night for the history books.

I don't think I've ever been in an audience that has given two standing ovations mid-show before. Like, this stuff happens on Broadway, but it doesn't happen here. And yet, TWICE on Friday night. 

At the end of the title number, the audience leapt to it's feet (I mean I was yelling like a football hooligan before Ms Foster had hit the octave jump at the number) and the cast stood there with massive grins on their faces as the curtain came down for the end of Act 1. It's the definition of perfection. I've never seen anything like it.

My friends and I stumbled out of the auditorium at the interval and were in various states of shock... a mixture of admiration, sobbing, joy and shaking occurred, and I do not regret it in the slightest! No one could really speak at the genius we'd just witnessed.

But, what followed 30 minutes later was something I wasn't anticipating. The cast gave a sensational performance of Blow Gabriel Blow, which stopped the show dead in it's tracks. The number ended and the audiences went bananas. Because it's not the end of an act, we were able to go absolutely mental for as long as we wanted. And my god we did!
It's was minutes but it felt like weeks - the sheer bliss and euphoria that comes from a big production number is unmatchable and the adrenaline rush that comes from it is something I have missed an obscene amount.

Two words.

Sutton. Foster.

In 2008, I first discovered Shrek the Musical and fell head over heels in love with the woman playing Princess Fiona. She sang like a dream, she was funny AND she could tap dance - these are literally my three characteristics I look for (hence why I'm obsessed with the entire cast of Follies). But I never really thought I'd get to see her live.

I don't know really what my expectation was. The woman is a bonafide legend, has two Tony Awards, and one of them is FOR the role that she was about to reprise. Like, I knew she was going to be good, but honestly nothing could have prepared me for the performance that I witnessed.

I'm not sure I've ever seen a leading performer who can dance with the ease and coolness that Sutton has got. She gives real heart and grounding to Reno not just through her acting and her singing, but through the way she moves. The fun Reno is having during Anything Goes, as she's tapping with a bunch of sailors, is exhilarating, but with a real focus on the character we've grown to know over the 90 minutes that have led up to this moment.

She's just bloody wonderful, and I honestly haven't stopped talking about it to anyone who will listen since I walked out of the Barbican...

It's been a long time since I saw a cast that I universally loved this much too (not just cause we had hardly any theatre for over a year too...!)

Theatrical legend Robert Lindsay stars opposite Foster as Moonface Martin (public enemy number 13), who stows away on the ship. Lindsay's signature charm and comedic chops come into full play here. 
Samuel Edwards and Nicole-Lily Baisden are charming as the secondary couple of Billy and Hope, with the 'will they/won't they' storyline keeping you guessing right up until the end. Alongside them is the ever excellent Haydn Oakley as Lord Evelyn Oakleigh, a British socialite engaged to Hope. Oakley's big Act 2 number "The Gypsy In Me" is a real highlight of the show, which is impressive to be able to steal focus from the rest of the show!

Felicity Kendal and Gary Wilmot offer great comedic relief in small character parts, perfectly suited to their strengths, whilst Carly Mercedes Dyer (who pre-pandemic was a sensational Anita in West Side Story) is scene-stealing as the mischievous Erma, with a brilliantly ballsy number towards the show's finale.

Last night I went back to the Barbican for a second trip in less than a fortnight, and it's every bit as good as the first time I saw it. Foster seemed to be enjoying herself even more and the whole cast have relaxed into it even more. Even more on show was the brilliance of Robert Lindsay, and his sharp wit. He evidently changes a few lines each show (because you saw Foster properly laughing at some of his one liners) and it's a joy to see such a brilliant duo bouncing off each other.

In what other show, on a random Tuesday night would you see two mid-show standing ovations, other than this one? Well you just wouldn't.

Times truly have changed, but if you're wanting a show to go back to that is a proper warm hug, with some of the best dance numbers you'll ever see, and one of the tightest and most talented casts in recent memory,  you cannot miss this show.

I don't think I've ever given a show 6 stars before, but today I do. 
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Oh, and I think I'm going again on Sunday!

 

"Tonight We Honour What Was Lost, But We Also Commemorate What We Found"

Sixteen months ago, when the world closed down, I had a conversation with some of my closest friends, about where we wanted to be the night that theatres reopened their doors. That first show needed to be big and it needed to be special. 
We couldn't have anticipated that it would take as long as it did to get there, but we all knew that the show we needed the most to "lead us out of the darkness" was the truly inspiring Come From Away.

It's a show that tells the story of ordinary people coming together in the face of a tragedy, which reflects what we've all been through in the last year and a half. It almost feels odd to say that you voluntarily want to sit through a show about a tragedy, but it truly did feel like the only way the catharsis and the healing could begin. We've been just existing for so long, and not really living, but it was tonight where we may have begun to finally start processing this time and what it has done to all of us.

The show itself was truly one of the greatest nights of my entire life.

As the lights went down, the audience erupted with a noise that I wasn't fully emotionally prepared to hear. I knew there was going to be a big reaction, but I don't think I could possibly have imagined quite how big it was going to  be. 1000 people screaming their faces off as 12 people walked on stage. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end just to think about it. The tidal wave of love we collectively threw at that stage was palpable. 

Pushing on through the opening number, I had to grab my friend's hand when we hit the line "you are here at the start of a moment". Because we were. A moment we had all waited for. And there we were.

And then, at the end of the number, the audience erupted once more, but this time to their feet. For almost a minute, we stood, cheered, screamed, cried and collectively let out our emotions as the enormity of where we were hit us. 

There are a few accent changes in the show - basically Jenna Boyd's passenger character is now a Scouser and it's the best thing in the entire world. But otherwise it's still the exactly same show as it always was, just now with an even deeper resonance than it had before. It was my first time seeing the second cast who took over in February 2020, and they are all doing a smashing job.

There are so many lines now that have a different meaning, that reflects the world we are currently living in. Proving the material transcends the moment it was written for, and is so universal.

There are people in your life who, when you meet them, you wonder how your life ever functioned without them. These are your people, and they will be there for you in the good times and the bad. These people were the ones I clung on to for 495 days, and who helped me to ride the storm. Through quizzes, film nights, and general nonsense24 hours a day, this lot are why I am still here.

I've never been more grateful to have such wonderful people in my life. Most of us met because of the theatre, but I don't think that I've ever been in the same room as them all at the same time. 

But Thursday was that day, where we all got to be in the same room at the same time.

It's been a long time since I saw a lot of people, and to be catching up at this show of all places was super emotional. Getting to hug people I haven't seen in a really long time (multiple years for some) was everything that I needed it to be. 

Because we come from everywhere, we all come from away 💛💙

I truly didn't believe that we'd actually get back into a theatre on Thursday. Even when I was stood in the auditorium, waiting for the show to start, I was convinced that something was going to go wrong. It's weird that we've been conditioned for so long now to expect everything to all go haywire.

But we are back. God knows for how long, but I'll be there enjoying wonderful nights at  the theatre for as long as we can.

"We all look the same, but we're different than we were"

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...