Fat Pig - TNT
Should it make a difference if your partner is overweight? Not just a pound or two, but scale-bustingly obese? That's the situation facing corporate guy Tom who surprises himself by falling for librarian Helen over pizza (several slices — hers) and chicken (with salad — his). She's so much nicer than co-worker Jeannie, his trim, slim and now bitterly jealous on-off ex who wants to rekindle their relationship. But, torn between genuine affection and a society which cruelly judges by externals, he hasn't got the guts to introduce her to his colleagues.
Ella Smith is a self-deprecating delight as supersized Helen, insisting she's happy in her own skin. But this is romantic comedy Neil LaBute-style and, in the end, size really does matter. Trafalgar Studios, Whitehall St, SW1 (0870-060 6632; www.trafalgar-studios.co.uk ). Until September 6. £25-£45
Sunday, 29 June 2008
Candide - TNT
Not content with the contributions that Stephen Sondheim, Dorothy Parker and a host of others have made to Leonard Bernstein's comic operetta since it premiered in 1956, director Richard Carsen has taken all sorts of liberties with his updated staging. Inspired by 18th century philosopher Voltaire's satirical novella, Candide follows the adventures of the eponymous hero (Toby Spence) as he travels the world experiencing loss, tragedy, war and a multitude of other ills in his search for "the best of all possible worlds."
This colourful new production (which has already been seen in Paris and Milan) turns the stage into a giant television set with Voltaire at the controls. But what he's watching is a parody of 50's America, with Candide's beloved Cunegonde (Anna Christy) resurrected as a Marilyn Monroe clone (dripping with diamonds, curvaceous in pink satin) when she survives rape and disembowelment in her native West Failure (originally Westphalia) and travels to the New World.
The words are witty, the melodic score both catchy and haunting. It's all a bit too busy, perhaps, and logistically muddled, but great fun if you just let yourself go with the overblown lack of restraint. Alex Jennings doubles brilliantly as an arch Voltaire and the tutor Pangloss, stubbornly maintaining that everything happens for the best, whilst Beverley Klein is a scene-stealing, one-buttocked old lady, and 'Tony Blair' floats nonchalantly on an oil-slicked sea in Union Jack swimming trunks — along with Bush, Chirac and Putin.
English National Opera at the London Coliseum, St Martin's Lane, WC2 (0871-911 0200). Until July 12. £87-£10
Not content with the contributions that Stephen Sondheim, Dorothy Parker and a host of others have made to Leonard Bernstein's comic operetta since it premiered in 1956, director Richard Carsen has taken all sorts of liberties with his updated staging. Inspired by 18th century philosopher Voltaire's satirical novella, Candide follows the adventures of the eponymous hero (Toby Spence) as he travels the world experiencing loss, tragedy, war and a multitude of other ills in his search for "the best of all possible worlds."
This colourful new production (which has already been seen in Paris and Milan) turns the stage into a giant television set with Voltaire at the controls. But what he's watching is a parody of 50's America, with Candide's beloved Cunegonde (Anna Christy) resurrected as a Marilyn Monroe clone (dripping with diamonds, curvaceous in pink satin) when she survives rape and disembowelment in her native West Failure (originally Westphalia) and travels to the New World.
The words are witty, the melodic score both catchy and haunting. It's all a bit too busy, perhaps, and logistically muddled, but great fun if you just let yourself go with the overblown lack of restraint. Alex Jennings doubles brilliantly as an arch Voltaire and the tutor Pangloss, stubbornly maintaining that everything happens for the best, whilst Beverley Klein is a scene-stealing, one-buttocked old lady, and 'Tony Blair' floats nonchalantly on an oil-slicked sea in Union Jack swimming trunks — along with Bush, Chirac and Putin.
English National Opera at the London Coliseum, St Martin's Lane, WC2 (0871-911 0200). Until July 12. £87-£10
... Sisters - TNT
It's all very well to push the boundaries and "apply new levels of formal experimentation to productions of classic European plays" and director Chris Goode is the recipient of an award to do just that. But what might prove a rewarding rehearsal exercise doesn't necessarily translate into a positive experience for the audience. This co-production between the Gate and Headlong points up the pro and cons of playing games with established texts.
Naomi Dawson's clever set is both indoors and out, covered in grass and with elements of childhood and rehearsal room (a playground water fountain, a dressing up trunk, a blackboard). Locked in their little world and destined never to get to Moscow, five female actors and one male (wearing a woman's slip) share the words of Olga, Masha, Irina and their intimates — and add some contemporary phrases as well.
Voices and roles coalesce and collide, but although the overlapping occasionally adds a fierce intensity, for the most part, if you aren't familiar with Chekhov's original, this deconstruction will probably leave you pretty much at sea. On the other hand, if it's one of your favourite classics, the wilful repetition becomes frustrating and is unlikely to yield much fresh insight.Who plays whom and who says what is, apparently, determined each night by picking the short straw, or by the contents of a letter, but (for me, at least) the most fascinating thing on stage was a bombproof rabbit which, making a late appearance, hopped on stage to wash, scratch and try to make sense of these frustrated provincial siblings.
Gate, Pembridge Road W11 (020-7229 0706). Until July 5. £16-£11
It's all very well to push the boundaries and "apply new levels of formal experimentation to productions of classic European plays" and director Chris Goode is the recipient of an award to do just that. But what might prove a rewarding rehearsal exercise doesn't necessarily translate into a positive experience for the audience. This co-production between the Gate and Headlong points up the pro and cons of playing games with established texts.
Naomi Dawson's clever set is both indoors and out, covered in grass and with elements of childhood and rehearsal room (a playground water fountain, a dressing up trunk, a blackboard). Locked in their little world and destined never to get to Moscow, five female actors and one male (wearing a woman's slip) share the words of Olga, Masha, Irina and their intimates — and add some contemporary phrases as well.
Voices and roles coalesce and collide, but although the overlapping occasionally adds a fierce intensity, for the most part, if you aren't familiar with Chekhov's original, this deconstruction will probably leave you pretty much at sea. On the other hand, if it's one of your favourite classics, the wilful repetition becomes frustrating and is unlikely to yield much fresh insight.Who plays whom and who says what is, apparently, determined each night by picking the short straw, or by the contents of a letter, but (for me, at least) the most fascinating thing on stage was a bombproof rabbit which, making a late appearance, hopped on stage to wash, scratch and try to make sense of these frustrated provincial siblings.
Gate, Pembridge Road W11 (020-7229 0706). Until July 5. £16-£11
Divas - TNT
Unless you're also a big fan of Piaf, Dietrich and Garland, there's little here to tempt the dedicated balletomane. Peter Schaufuss (a former principal dancer who has performed worldwide) proves himself a disappointingly literal interpreter of thirty of their songs which are blasted through the auditorium. His lacklustre choreography — with its abrupt, repetitive jokey movements — often feels like a knee jerk response to the music.
There are three very prominent chairs on an elevated platform, three ballerinas and three acts. In the first, an exceptionally tall and sinuous ballerina interprets the works of the diminutive Piaf (but, in the absence of a male partner, seems reluctant to be parted from her high-backed chair). In the second, another dancer wafts aimlessly in furs as a redundant but elegant Dietrich (cue lederhosen and goose-stepping from the energetic corps de ballet squashed onto the minimal remaining downstage space). And finally it's the turn of Garland's rather shaky alter ego to try and inject some of 'That Old Black Magic' into this uninspiring show.
There are, intermittently, sensuous and enjoyable moments. But, ironically, it's the pleasure of listening to the recordings of this deceased trio of legendary songstresses (rather than the activity on stage) which gives this so-called dance spectacular life.
Apollo Shaftesbury Avenue, W1 (0870-040 0080). Until 5th July 5. £41-£16
Unless you're also a big fan of Piaf, Dietrich and Garland, there's little here to tempt the dedicated balletomane. Peter Schaufuss (a former principal dancer who has performed worldwide) proves himself a disappointingly literal interpreter of thirty of their songs which are blasted through the auditorium. His lacklustre choreography — with its abrupt, repetitive jokey movements — often feels like a knee jerk response to the music.
There are three very prominent chairs on an elevated platform, three ballerinas and three acts. In the first, an exceptionally tall and sinuous ballerina interprets the works of the diminutive Piaf (but, in the absence of a male partner, seems reluctant to be parted from her high-backed chair). In the second, another dancer wafts aimlessly in furs as a redundant but elegant Dietrich (cue lederhosen and goose-stepping from the energetic corps de ballet squashed onto the minimal remaining downstage space). And finally it's the turn of Garland's rather shaky alter ego to try and inject some of 'That Old Black Magic' into this uninspiring show.
There are, intermittently, sensuous and enjoyable moments. But, ironically, it's the pleasure of listening to the recordings of this deceased trio of legendary songstresses (rather than the activity on stage) which gives this so-called dance spectacular life.
Apollo Shaftesbury Avenue, W1 (0870-040 0080). Until 5th July 5. £41-£16
Monday, 23 June 2008
Dickens Unplugged - TNT
Co-founder of the Reduced Shakespeare Company Adam Long had a massive hit with The Complete Works Of Shakespeare (Abridged), which began in Edinburgh 1987 and finally ended a nine-year West End run in 2005.
His new musical comedy subjects the substantial oeuvre of "Charlie" Dickens to similar treatment, but proves a very hit and miss affair. The emphasis is on the more familiar works, with The Old Curiosity Shop succinctly dismissed in under a minute and Martin Chuzzlewit barely meriting a mention.
Five American-accented blokes play all the parts (and the musical instruments too) and although Simon Jermond proves effective portraying David Copperfield's rejected, ringletted Agnes, the Christmas Carol is short on ingenuity and, for a potted résumé, tediously over-extended.
Comedy Theatre, Panton St, SW1 (0870-060 6637). Until June 29. £16-£46
Co-founder of the Reduced Shakespeare Company Adam Long had a massive hit with The Complete Works Of Shakespeare (Abridged), which began in Edinburgh 1987 and finally ended a nine-year West End run in 2005.
His new musical comedy subjects the substantial oeuvre of "Charlie" Dickens to similar treatment, but proves a very hit and miss affair. The emphasis is on the more familiar works, with The Old Curiosity Shop succinctly dismissed in under a minute and Martin Chuzzlewit barely meriting a mention.
Five American-accented blokes play all the parts (and the musical instruments too) and although Simon Jermond proves effective portraying David Copperfield's rejected, ringletted Agnes, the Christmas Carol is short on ingenuity and, for a potted résumé, tediously over-extended.
Comedy Theatre, Panton St, SW1 (0870-060 6637). Until June 29. £16-£46
Relocated - TNT
Anthony Neilson likes to keep you guessing. His new dramas are often scheduled for performance long before he's given them a title or finished creating them. His latest disturbing piece is no exception and is chillingly topical.
Separated from the gloomy, low-ceilinged stage by a gauzy mesh (which turns opaque with each change of scene) we encounter, one by one, three women who turn out to be linked by a common identity and are part, perhaps, of awitness protection programme. The overpowering reek of disinfectant and the compulsive hoovering hint at terrible events which can't be erased and, as the fragmented episodes build into a central theme of disappearing little girls, the bunkerlike setting becomes increasingly ominous, bringing to mind the horrific events recently exposed in Austria and instances of child abduction (and worse) closer to home.
Neilson's powerfully acted production (he also directs) is as cruel and disconcerting as a very bad dream, but - as blood drips ominously from the ceiling - it is also unnervingly compelling.
Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, Sloane Square, SW1. (020-7565 5000). Until July 5. Tickets £15 (£10 on Monday).
Anthony Neilson likes to keep you guessing. His new dramas are often scheduled for performance long before he's given them a title or finished creating them. His latest disturbing piece is no exception and is chillingly topical.
Separated from the gloomy, low-ceilinged stage by a gauzy mesh (which turns opaque with each change of scene) we encounter, one by one, three women who turn out to be linked by a common identity and are part, perhaps, of awitness protection programme. The overpowering reek of disinfectant and the compulsive hoovering hint at terrible events which can't be erased and, as the fragmented episodes build into a central theme of disappearing little girls, the bunkerlike setting becomes increasingly ominous, bringing to mind the horrific events recently exposed in Austria and instances of child abduction (and worse) closer to home.
Neilson's powerfully acted production (he also directs) is as cruel and disconcerting as a very bad dream, but - as blood drips ominously from the ceiling - it is also unnervingly compelling.
Royal Court Theatre Upstairs, Sloane Square, SW1. (020-7565 5000). Until July 5. Tickets £15 (£10 on Monday).
The Quiz - TNT
Probably best known for his portrayal of Filch in the Henry Potter films, David Bradley has, for decades, been a highly respected classical actor. In Richard Crane's new monologue, he plays a boozy, washed-up Actor (his mother an actress, his father a bishop) whose final wish is to die in the limelight with his tights on. And this might be his final performance.
His loyal stage manager Angelica (with whom he once, and only once, found himself sharing a bed) has finally slammed the door on their working relationship, and his wife and kids are a distant memory. For almost two decades, he's been touring a one man show - "The Grand Inquisitor" culled from Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov - and Crane interweaves excerpts which resonate with the Actor's own observations.
Cadaverous in his monk's robes, he looks back ruefully and with bleak humour on a life that has gone nowhere and, although the script is as slippery as the whisky-sodden thesp's grasp of his lines, Bradley's performance is masterly.
Trafalgar Studios (2), Whitehall, SW1. (0870-060 6632). Until June 28. Tickets £22.50 (£15.00 Monday).
Probably best known for his portrayal of Filch in the Henry Potter films, David Bradley has, for decades, been a highly respected classical actor. In Richard Crane's new monologue, he plays a boozy, washed-up Actor (his mother an actress, his father a bishop) whose final wish is to die in the limelight with his tights on. And this might be his final performance.
His loyal stage manager Angelica (with whom he once, and only once, found himself sharing a bed) has finally slammed the door on their working relationship, and his wife and kids are a distant memory. For almost two decades, he's been touring a one man show - "The Grand Inquisitor" culled from Dostoevsky's Brothers Karamazov - and Crane interweaves excerpts which resonate with the Actor's own observations.
Cadaverous in his monk's robes, he looks back ruefully and with bleak humour on a life that has gone nowhere and, although the script is as slippery as the whisky-sodden thesp's grasp of his lines, Bradley's performance is masterly.
Trafalgar Studios (2), Whitehall, SW1. (0870-060 6632). Until June 28. Tickets £22.50 (£15.00 Monday).
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