Hit Me:The Life & Rhymes of Ian Dury ***
This article was first published on tntonline.co.uk on Friday 23 January 2009

Even from beyond the grave, Ian Dury is causing controversy thanks to Jeff Merrifield’s account of the man who found as many reasons to be angry as to be cheerful, but didn’t let the legacy of his childhood polio stand in the way of becoming a punk icon.
But it’s hardly Dury’s fault (he died of cancer in 2000) that the actor who successfully played him in Edinburgh and on the fringe refused to work with a revised script and was replaced at the last minute. Thankfully, Adrian Schiller has had enough time to do his homework and gives a more than creditable performance in this warts (and there are a lot of them) and all look at the life of the lyricist and vocalist who wasn’t afraid to offend and whose Spasticus Autisticus was banned by the BBC.
Whilst lauding his talents, it doesn’t shy away from the less likeable aspects of Dury’s character – too much drink, too many women and an uncontrollable temper — but, frustratingly, whilst the mundane, expletive-filled dialogue comes across crystal clear, the sound system frequently drowns out the lyrics which made his name.
Told partly from the view point of his ex-jailbird minder, Fred “Spider” Rowe (who resorted to hiding Dury’s leg iron to keep him under control) this two-hander — even without the appearance of the backing group, The Blockheads — will serve as a welcome walk down memory lane for ageing fans who were around in his heyday, and give younger generations some insight into the appeal of this charismatic performer and his distinctive rasping voice.

Leicester Square Theatre, Leicester Place, WC2 (0844 847 2475) until February 14, £25 – £20

Captain Oates' Left Sock *** TNT

Radio scriptwriter and playwright John Antrobus’s brief two week stay in a mental hospital obviously made quite an impression on him and inspired this amusing but critical account of group therapy in the late 60’s.

The Finborough’s padded bench seats have been stripped away and replaced with plastic chairs arranged in a circle and colour coded — for psychiatric patients and staff, and for the audience. With fifteen of the former and space for a mere twenty of the latter, this show certainly isn’t going to make much money, but it does give something of the feel of the methods thought to be beneficial in the care of the psychologically troubled four decades ago, when ECT was still acceptable but, mercifully, on the way out.
Among the disturbed voluntary patients are young David (his barely controlled anger directed at the non-committal Dr. Parks), placatory Celia (in cosy slippers and droopy cardigan) and kind, elderly Molly who just wants to know when she will be discharged. Indecisive musician Fergy can’t stand the noise of his own music, whilst Carter’s immaculate exterior and middle class tones belie a deeply troubled psyche.
Antrobus (who worked with Spike Milligan and on the Carry On films) doesn’t really know where to go with the characters he has created and ends on an unconvincing note, but the performances are disconcertingly realistic and the play opens the door on what it was like to air one’s emotional problems in public long before TV hosts took on the role of small screen psychotherapists.

Finborough Theatre, Finborough Road, SW10 (0844 847 1652) Until January 31, £13 (£9 Tuesdays)

Sunset Boulevard **** TNT

This pocket size revival of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s lush musical (based on Billy Wilder’s 1950 film) packs a surprising punch in Aussie Strictly Come Dancing judge Craig Revel Horwood’s inventive production.
A transfer from the Watermill in Newbury, it continues their tradition of doing away with a full orchestra by casting, instead, actors who not only sing but simultaneously play an array of instruments as well. The intimate staging emphasises the secluded nature of faded silver screen goddess Norma Desmond’s Hollywood home, whilst still managing to incorporate a dominating spiral staircase for her show-stopping entrances.
Kathryn Evans invests the ageing Desmond with a wild-eyed emotional intensity but (though convincing in her delusional belief that a comeback is imminent) can’t quite convey the star quality of a former legend.
Ben Goddard’s cynical, down-at-heel young scriptwriter reveals the self-disgust of his unexpected - but financially rewarding - entanglement with the reclusive actress, and Dave Willetts gives Max, her devoted manservant, a bizarre Boris Karloff accent which seems strangely appropriate for this Tinsel Town melodrama of shattered dreams and disillusion.

Comedy Theatre, Panton Street, SW1 (0870 060 6637). Until 18th April £17-54

Mandy Patinkin in Concert *** TNT

Mandy Patinkin is a performer right down to his fingertips, and a Performance (definitely with a capital “P”) is just what you get in his solo show, an amalgam of well known favourites and more obscure musical theatre songs which also includes a speech from The Tempest and a plea for peace.
Probably best known over here for his role in the long-running TV series Chicago Hope, Patinkin (informally dressed in black, with casual white trainers) never lets you forget that he’s not just a singer, but an established serious actor too, with awards and nominations going back to his portrayal of Che in Evita almost thirty years ago.
We get very little biographical detail – his sons get a mention, as does a male bonding interlude with fellow Juilliard graduate William Hurt. The emotion is all in the delivery of the songs. At times, the words seem to be almost wrenched from the bottom of his soul – so much so that there were occasions when I’d rather just have heard the result than witnessed the effort taken to achieve it.
But he also has a lighter, playful side – his rich tenor voice reaches notes high enough to impersonate a little girl, there’s a brief Charlie Chaplin walk, and a snippet of White Christmas sung in Yiddish! Sondheim fans are in for a treat (Sunday in the Park with George features heavily) and Patinkin’s emphatic style demands attention.
Yet despite his showmanship, he’s also generous in his praise of pianist Ben Toth who (apparently drafted in at the eleventh hour) provides two hours of quietly unobtrusive accompaniment to songs as wide ranging as John Lennon’s Imagine and Jalvert’s impassioned prayer from Les Mis.
Duke of York’s, St Martin’s Lane, WC2 (0870 060 6623). Until 18th January.£25- £35

A Little Night Music **** TNT

Simply staged against a backdrop of frosty mirrors and silver birches, Trevor Nunn’s intimate revival of Stephen Sondheim’s seductive 1973 musical combines a haunting nostalgia with a sense of fun and a bittersweet truthfulness which tugs at the emotions.
Inspired by Ingmar Bergman’s film Smiles of a Summer Night Sondheim’s brilliant waltz tempo vision of extra-marital affairs and mismatched pairings reveals a trenchant wit and a rueful awareness of the potential follies of falling in love at any age.

The production isn’t quite perfect – Hannah Waddingham is, perhaps, more arch than potentially poignant as itinerant actress Desirée, and Jessie Buckley (runner-up in the TV competition to find the next Nancy for the forthcoming production of Oliver!) seems surprisingly vocally uncomfortable as the teenage Anne, still a virgin after almost a year of marriage.
But every word of Sondheim’s masterly lyrics is crystal clear. Alexander Hanson’s excellent Fredrik (her frustrated, middle-aged lawyer husband and Desirée’s old flame) even retains his dignity when singing in long johns, Maureen Lipman is equally impressive as Desiree’s disdainful, wheelchair bound mother (a canny courtesan from a bygone age whose small fortune was amassed through a succession of judiciously chosen liaisons) and there is so much to enjoy in this elegant, ironic treat that the flaws barely matter.

Menier Chocolate Factory 53 Southwark Street, SE1 (020 7907 7060) Until 8th March. Tickets £29.50 Meal Deals available

Lost and Found Orchestra **** TNT

Way back in 1991, Steve McNicholas and Luke Creswell created “Stomp”. From tiny beginnings it’s gone on to play to more than 12 million people across the continents and has just extended its West End run. With just eight performers, that was a small-scale enterprise compared to their current undertaking — a percussive concert of rhythms and riffs played out on instruments you won’t find in any conventional orchestra, and performed with an infectiously joyful energy by a cast of around 40, plus a voluntary choir.

Violin bows create an other-worldly sound as they're drawn across filed down saws, steel catering cauldrons make powerful drums, sections of truck radiator hose rhythmically hit the floor, partly filled water coolers are shaken and waste pipes and traffic cones are puffed and blown.
Aerial artists swing through the air to strike like wayward human pendulums and there’s a touch of humorous clowning (but not too much). Even plastic bags, filing cabinets and a bed have their musical parts to play.
Sometimes eerily beautiful, sometimes wildly exuberant (and already a hit at the Sydney Festival in 2006) this is inspired, inventive fun — the perfect antidote to a seasonal surfeit of Christmas carols and the only place to see a squonkaphone in action.

Royal Festival Hall South Bank Centre, Belvedere Road , SE1 (0871 663 2500) Until 11 January tickets £14-£55

Twelfth Night ***** TNT

It’s only a few weeks since Filter’s joyously freewheeling and drastically abbreviated version of Shakespeare’s dark-tinged comedy played at the Tricycle, but Michael Grandage’s new production (the second in the Donmar’s West End season) is every bit as enjoyable in a more conventional way.
It’s altogether sunnier – the slatted set opens out onto a beachside vista – and the witty poetry of the language shines through. Victoria Hamilton’s shipwrecked Viola abandons her gorgeously shimmering aquatic gown for male garb to pose as a pert youth in the employment of Duke Orsino (a bare-chested Mark Bonnar, too immersed in his own lovesick misery to bother to dress). Indira Varma’s proud Olivia, the object of his unrequited attentions, is a vain heiress who loses all self control when she, in turn, falls for his cross-dressed employee. Inspired casting pairs pintsize Ron Cook’s inebriated Sir Toby Belch with Guy Henry’s dim-witted beanpole Sir Andrew Aguecheek, whilst Zubin Varla’s tuneful Feste provides the musical accompaniment. And at the heart of what is truly an ensemble piece is Derek Jacobi’s steward, Malvolio. He may be the elder statesman in this excellent cast, but his sense of comedy is still superb. Pompous and preening in his stiff black suit, his gurning attempts to contort his features into what he mistakenly believes to be an Olivia-pleasing smile is worth the price of admission alone.

Wyndhams, Charing Cross Road WC2 (0844 482 5120) Until March 7. Tickets £10-£32.50

Loot *** TNT

Joe Orton’s short life (1933-1967) was brutally terminated when his lover hammered him to death before committing suicide. But in a few productive years, he made a lasting impact with a handful of black comedies which shocked '60s audiences.
Premiered in 1965, Loot relentlessly mocks Catholics, the police and small time crooks in a farcical scenario revolving round an embalmed corpse on the way to its funeral, a much-married, serial killer nurse with her sights set on the newly widowed McCleavy, and the stashed proceeds of a bank robbery. Thoroughly disrespectful of the dead, the grieving and just about everything else it touches on, this anarchic satire needs deft playing to carry it off.
Though older than Orton intended, Doon Mackichan (from Smack the Pony) is otherwise well cast as the predatory Fay who takes her nursing duties several steps too far, and James Hayes is convincingly distressed as the bereaved McCleavy. The young thieves (his callous son Hal and sidekick Dennis) don’t fare so well, but David Haig is first rate as Truscott, the blustering policeman posing as an inspector from the Metropolitan Water Board. Volatile and self-important, his is a great comic performance which reveals all the pent up violence and stupidity of Orton’s presciently corrupt creation.

Tricycle Kilburn High Road, NW6. (020 7328 1000) Until January 31. Tickets £12-£22.