THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Frankland & Sons, Camden People's Theatre

Frankland & Sons was an intriguing production, especially as this was my first review. Written and performed by father and son John and Tom Frankland, the performance tells the very personal story of three generations of the Frankland family, stemming from John’s father’s letters to his wife while fighting in the Middle East during both World Wars. As father and son delve into their shared history, facts taken for granted are laid bare, disproved, and suppositions come crashing down before the audience’s eyes at the climax of the narrative.

Having spent a long evening unearthing previously unknown family truths of my own the previous day, it seemed a fitting theme for a play to address. In an age when family heritage is newly-accessible online, and programmes like Who Do You Think You Are? explore previously lost personal history, I was excited to see what the stage could contribute to this emerging trend.

Unfortunately, Frankland & Sons failed to live up to this potential. The play started, both in the performance and as a starting point for the men’s research, with a suitcase of letters, inherited from John’s sister Barbara, who died in 2006. Once read out to the audience, these were hung from a timeline, overhanging the stage, along with balloons and ribbons marking significant events along the narrative. While this was an interesting use of space and a neat concept, it created some unnecessary fuss, and detracted from the direction of the storyline, although the second half is less involved with hanging letters from string, and meatier in terms of content. At the same time, the mood of the performance lurched somewhat unconvincingly from slapstick humour to deep emotional revelation, in a relatively uncomfortable rhythm, and what momentum was created was broken by an unnecessary interval.

The relationship between the two men is intriguing too, but again falls between two stools in terms of the final result. It was unclear, perhaps to the performers as well, to what extent they were playing themselves, playing a theatrical version of themselves, or simply narrating their family’s history. Their relationship is nevertheless one of the strongest and most appealing aspects of the play, shown perfectly in two mirrored moments in either half, as one scolds the other, and visa versa. Consciously haphazard and endearing, the Franklands are definitely worth watching, even if the play itself doesn’t quite deliver.

Frankland & Sons continues until 28 January, book here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, James Bomford.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MINI: Slava's Snowshow, Royal Festival Hall

I always find the Southbank particularly beautiful and exciting around Christmas and this year is no exception. Slava’s Snowshow is just one of the many wintery delights that the Southbank has to offer.

My friend and I walked excited past a row of magical looking stalls and into the warm and bustling theatre of the Royal Festival Hall where we were met with a friendly atmosphere and the sound of jazzy music flowing through the building.

The auditorium was a flood of aquamarine, blue and turquoise light, only the beginning of what was to come.

The show begins with light cascading into smoke around the stage leaving only a melancholy clown wandering the stage wearing an oversized yet strangely fetching sun yellow all-in-one. The show consists of little talking, relying on music, colour, and overall sensory and visual wonder.

Some parts are subtly enticing such as a unique scene in which the clown works with a beautiful coloured ball on stage. The pitch black auditorium with one bright orange sphere floating delicately captivates the audience completely.

Other parts are eccentric or funny. It is a fantastic show thanks to these contrasts. There are sad moments, frightening moments, silent moments and moments where the whole audience both young and old were in hysterical laughter.

The best parts for me though would have to be the three large scale events which occur at climactic points. The audience gasped at the sight of a vast spider's web slowing descending, made from woven white thread, the giant web is pulled over the audience, by the audience.

I was situated near the back and watched as the web drew near, the look of wonder on people’s faces. Laughter murmured across the hall as people pulled the web over their heads. It was incredible that this can work in such a large audience - it was truly memorable.

This is the very reason I love going to plays, musicals and shows because when the whole audience is brought together, it is like nothing else. The show is a unique and extremely beautiful experience and it ends with giant inflatable balls of different colours floating above the audience. I was filled with joy as I and many other people rushed out of their seats to jump up and hit the massive spheres over the audience.

Snow fell from the ceiling and the show officially came to a close, although everyone continued to gaze in awe at the globes still suspended above their heads.

This show broke the boundaries of modern theatre and I urge you to catch it while it is still on.

Slava’s Snowshow continues until Sunday 8 January, 2012, book here.

Written by Thoroughly Modern Mini, Eloise Kenny-Ryder.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Cinderella, Tabard Theatre

What a magical show! The Tabard Theatre in Chiswick has been journeying to exciting places over the past few years. At a time when many fringe venues are strapping down on budgets and sacrificing quality, the Tabard is continuing its steadily upward incline.

Recent shows such as 'Ruddigore' and 'You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown' have extended the capabilities of the small stage, and it is clear that designers and directors are becoming more strategic in their utilisation of the space. Their new production of Rodgers and Hammertein's 'Cinderella' is the finest I have witnessed at the venue, and is one of the best pieces of fringe theatre I can remember seeing in London.

The show itself is a real gem from Rodgers and Hammerstein, with a terrific score featuring songs such as 'Do I Love You Because You're Beautiful?', and 'There's Music in You', plus fast-paced and witty passages of dialogue which pose an entertaining and tongue-in-cheek slant on the Cinderella story, whilst never dumbing it down.

But why is it so rarely performed? Well, it wasn't actually written for the stage, but for a one-off live American TV broadcast, starring Julie Andrews (107,000,000 people tuned in to watch it). It was later adapted for the theatre but did not receive extended runs, and has not been seen on the London stage since 1958. Cinderella is a show with so many potential pitfalls: it has to avoid being seen as a cheap imitation of a pantomime, the key characters could easily come across as plastic versions of themselves: the Prince could be played as wet-flannel royal, and Cinderella as whiter-than-white plastic doll. And then there is the fact that everyone knows the story of Cinderella inside-out and backwards, and will bring pre-conceived expectations to the show. We all know, for example, that the transformation scene concludes the first act, and has to set hearts fluttering into the interval. How can a London fringe theatre above a pub possibly match the magic of major pantomimes with vastly disproportionate budgets?

But the director Alex Young, and designer Christopher Hone have pulled off a superb achievement. The set is sprinkled with wonderful ideas: a chandelier is surrounded by lit lanterns (later to become pumpkins), which rise and fall from the ceiling, a miniature emerald palace stands high up on a raised level, from which a curving staircase descends, thrones appear from behind fire-places, banners unfurl at the click of a finger, circular segments of wall swivel to reveal royal family portraits. Cats, mice and birds are expected to drift in and out of scenes, and this is done beautifully with effective and graceful puppetry: the transformation of the mice into horses is a moment of genius.

All this could have been wasted were it not for a strong cast who avoid falling into the pantomime trap of caricature. Cinderella (Kirsty Mann) is sparky, quick-witted, and not merely a dreamy wife-to-be of the Prince. In the garden scene (shortly before the clock strikes twelve) she isn't always overly-impressed with the heir to the throne, actually pulling away when he initially leans in to kiss her. She is less Disney princess, and more Middleton-esque girl-next-door, ready to break it off with a prince if he's not what she's looking for. The relationship between servant and Prince is beautifully done: there is warm and natural chemistry between Mann and Vlach Ashton (Prince Christopher). Matt Elson's choreography for the second act waltz is beautifully done, making light of the height difference between the pair.

Helen Colby ensures that the energy of the show never drops. She has a pivotal role, playing both Cinderella's Stepmother and the Fairy Godmother. Those familiar with Rodgers and Hammerstein's works will know that darkness is never far from the seemingly tranquil surface: the racial tensions of South Pacific, Nazi invasion in The Sound of Music, and the lecherous Jud in Oklahoma.

It is Colby's Stepmother who performs this role in Cinderella. Her comic touch in dealing with her frightful daughters is balanced with flashes of true, sinister venom towards Cinderella. Her stepdaughter is a victim of domestic abuse (Colby carries a whip for most of the opening scenes), and this adds an unexpected edge to a story we all thought we knew. The show is being sold as a family show by the Tabard and it helps that Colby switches into a breezy, motherly, cockney Fairy Godmother, in order to off-set any worried children in the audience - Colby's performance is both sides of a coin, helping to redeem the bitter widow so full of loathing for the girl who serves as a daily reminder of her late husband.

If any of this sounds a bit deep it is because I have barely touched upon the performances of Lydia Jenkins and Kate Scott as the two Stepsisters, Grace and Joy. From the start they put to bed the conception of 'the ugly sisters', for neither is remotely ugly in anything but personality and demeanour. They must have had such fun in bringing these quirky characters to life, developing almost reptilian walks, and spoilt 'Made in Chelsea' accents: their Act 2 'Stepsisters' Lament' is a gem of a number.

A mention must go to Josh Carter who is so convincing as the colourful Prince's aide, Lionel. He makes so much of a role which could easily have been forgettable: the early scene in the Royal Parlour between him and Vlach Ashton is so effective in its ease and simplicity.
Brendan Matthew and Sarah Dearlove make the most of their roles as King and Queen, particularly in their charming song, 'Boys and Girls Like You And Me' - originally written for Oklahoma.

A word, too, on the band, who bring a wonderful score to life with energy and a rich texture - impressive from such a small ensemble. Credit must go to Musical Director, Eamonn O'Dwyer and Assistant Musical Director, Jody Robinson.

This has raised an already high bar for future shows at The Tabard theatre. If you only see one piece of London Fringe theatre this Christmas, make it Cinderella!

Continues until 8 January 2012, book here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, Alex Knox.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Goodbye Barcelona, Arcola Theatre

Firstly, the writers K S Lewkowicz and Judith Johnson must be commended for writing a musical about such a notable and tragic period of European history, and also for the sensitive way in which they have put this show together. For the press night a considerable number of Spaniards were present, and their reaction at the end spoke volumes about the emotional power of the evening.

Although 'Goodbye Barcelona' is not an account of a true story, it was largely inspired by interviews with five surviving Brigaders (men from across Europe who volunteered themselves to fight Franco's Fascist army during the Spanish Civil War.) The Republic forces resisted the Fascists for nearly three years despite the 'Non Intervention Policy' from Britain and France meaning that they were unable to purchase weapons, while the Fascists were supplied with state-of-the-art military equipment and personnel by Hitler and Mussolini. This whole period is glossed over by the History curriculum, and the fact that British men and women were among those who supported the movement is an almost unobserved fact. The great significance of the period is that it stands on the brink of the Second World War, and marks the beginning of the great fight against fascism. It is a terrific backdrop for theatre.

For the most part it succeeds. There was certainly an air of 'first night' about the opening half an hour or so: the cast were trying so hard to sell the show that they lost their way somewhat in the telling of the story. The musical opens in London's East End, and it was these opening scenes that seemed a bit jagged and over-cooked - not all the jokes were landing, and you could feel the nervous energy gathering. But once the action transferred to Spain and we heard 'La Pasionaria's Welcome' the cogs began to turn nicely. (The sporadic musical appearances of Laura Tebbutt's La Pasionaria were sung with real Spanish gusto and commitment.)
Spain arrives in a blaze of red sunrise, and the introduction of Pillar (Katie Bernstein) brings a real injection of positive energy to the play. Bernstein plays the role with such senstivity, hiding her grief and desperation behind a front of sensuality, confidence and Iberian determination. She grew with the performance, and with each scene you could feel her stripping away layers of Pillar's defences, baring herself to Sammy (Tom Gill), the eighteen year old East-End lad who is guided to Spain by his conscience and personal experiences of fascism. He is another who grew with the performance, and gave a highly convincing portrayal of a young man's fear in the face of brutality and war.

Sammy's mother, Rebecca (Lucy Bradshaw), is tortured by her son's departure, and leaves London to follow her son to Spain, becoming a volunteer nurse. She gave a beautifully measured performance, never indulgent or over-played. It was a shame that some backstage clunking and flapping scenery got in the way of some of her more poignant moments. Hopefully this will be remedied as the run continues.

The two stand out performances of the night were Mark Meadows, as the tortured soldier, Jack, and John Killoran as the wounded anarchist, Ernesto.

Mark Meadows' impressive CV reveals is the former musical director of the world-famous singing ensemble, The Swingle Singers. He has had an impressively varied career, performing with the ground across the world, including in La Scala, Milan, and recently having finished playing Frank Lockwood in 'Betty Blue Eyes' on the West End. In 'Goodbye Barcelona' he plays Jack, the essential comic ingredient. He knows how to make a joke stick, and that is vital in getting this show of the ground, and for providing the relief to the tragic backdrop of the show. Like Bernstein, he covers his own grief behind a wall of glossy confidence and cockiness, but his own history and experience is never far from the surface.

It is John Killoran who won it for me though. His relationship with Bradshaw is played out beautifully. What begins as some cheeky back-chat in a hospital ward quickly crescendos into something more serious, and, in the most unlikely way, the relationship between a Spanish anarchist and an East End widow becomes the most endearing and compelling plot-line of the whole show.

Ultimately, the show succeeds in hitting the spot - the second half is particularly well-tuned. But like so many musicals the story itself is slightly tarnished by failing to fully balance the score with the play. Occasionally, I felt that I was listening to dialogue which was only serving to pave the way for a new song. So few musicals really get this balance right. The music really needs to be blended into the text in order to get the right effect, particularly in shows which deal with such grandiose backdrops as the Spanish Civil War. For me, it is one massive reason why Les Miserables continues to enjoy such success around the world, and why Sondheim succeeds in creating such magic again and again: the linkages between spoken text and singing seem so seamless that you are barely aware of them. None of this should dissuade you from seeing and experiencing a wonderful night of theatre!

Goodbye Barcelona continues until 23 December, buy tickets here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, Alex Knox.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Dracula: Sex, Sucking and Stardom, Hens & Chickens Theatre

On the surface, it is a familiar plotline: Dracula wants to take over the world with an army of un-dead. But there is an unexpected bonus: Dracula is also a frustrated guitar-wielding West End wannabe, pining for a role in the new Andrew Lloyd Webber hit show. This is 'Dracula: Sex, Sucking and Stardom', and it is not to be missed.

This one-act show is a barrage of laughs. A clever and fast-moving script, wonderful audience participation, great use of a small and inflexible space, and terrific comic timing make for a great evening in the Hen and Chickens Theatre. The show has been devised by the cast, and they must have had such fun creating the piece. Their on-stage energy and commitment is what gives the play its winning punch.

It is the second show from the theatre company 'Last Chance Saloon', set up by Sam Dunham and Jack Faires, who play Jonathan Harker and Count Dracula respectively. For this show they have added Simon Naylor, who plays Van Helsing, and what a brilliant decision it was to cast him in the role - it is clear from the start how much natural flair he has for comedy.

It is interesting that in the blurb for 'Last Chance Saloon', Charlie Chaplin is listed as one of their key influences. Slapstick comedy is an integral part of the show, and it is clear that the performers/writers rank visual comedy as highly as they do scripted comedy. An actor being slapped in the face, cross-dressing, or waking up in a compromising position is just as funny as some of the verbal gaffs in this show. The timing of these moments is impeccable.

Jack Faires' skilled guitar playing adds a crucial musical dimension, and a half-size electric keyboard serves as a useful and cleverly-utilised prop.

The plot is as ridiculous as you would wish it to be: the action moves across oceans in a matter of seconds, and the actors switch characters at extraordinary speed. The result could have been utter chaos, but instead the action is wonderfully slick.

The laughs keep coming: when Dracula is turned down by Andrew Lloyd Webber for being too camp, he is horrified to discover that John Barrowman has been cast instead.

An amazing line-up of comedians over the coming months is another tremendous reason to visit The Hen and Chickens Theatre in Islington.

Sex, Sucking and Stardom continues until 3 December, book here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, Alex Knox.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MAN: Eugene Onegin, ENO

Pushkin and Tchaikovsky make a potent combination. Eugene Onegin is a staggering opera - one of the greats, and this new joint-production (with the New York Metropolitan Opera), directed by Deborah Warner, is a fresh and exciting version.

As always at the ENO, the opera is sung in English. This is not normally a concern, however this is one of the weakest translations I have heard the ENO work with. The rhymes are, at best, silly; and the language is often predictable and frothy. This won't matter to audiences in New York, who will no doubt hear it all in Russian.

Putting this to one side - the staging is impressive. The first act is staged in a country house, looking out on to the path and surrounding fields. It is a huge set, with massive girders on the ceiling, a staircase to the right, and large swinging barn-doors separating the relative safety of the domestic world from the outside. We are taken on a dramatic journey through ornate ballrooms, barren woods in winter, and on to the towering pillars of St. Petersburg.

In the title role Audun Iverson is physically commanding, but I never believed that the brain and soul of Onegin - complex and tortured - was working behind his eyes. The climatic outpouring of love at the moment he realises his mistake of refusing Tatyana, did not capture the audience as it might have done.

By contrast, Amanda Echalaz (Tatyana) was wonderfully committed to the role, particularly early on. Her first act aria, as she battles with her feelings for Onegin, was breathless and raw - she seemed locked into the mind of a young adult, coming to terms with love for the first time.

But it was Toby Spence (Lensky) who sprinkled magic over this opera. His second act aria, moments before his fatal duel with Onegin, was spine-tingling. It showed what opera is capable of when directed and performed effectively. Throughout his performance Spence sings close to the edge, taking risks at every opportunity, and it is this that makes him so compelling to watch.

The second act also marks the peak of this particular production. It sadly never reaches the same heights once Lensky has died. The final goodbye between Onegin and Tatyana almost bordered on pantomime, and there seemed to be something missing from the final act in general. There did not seem enough tension generated by their re-introduction (after a three year separation) at the beginning of the act , and it proved impossible to regain that momentum from there on in.

The vast chorus perform well, but are never as engaging to watch as the dancers, who steal the limelight in the ensemble scenes.

It is a shame that the final moments of this opera fail to live up to much of what has come before. The second act, in particular, really is tremendously exciting, and if maintained, may have resulted in one of the opera events of the year.

Eugene Onegin continues until 3 December, book here.

Written by a Thoroughly Modern Man, Alex Knox.