MACBETH

 Storyhouse. Chester

Adapted & directed by Jamie Sophia Fletcher 

Until 21st March 2026

Review by Brian Gorman 

"Something lurid, this way comes..."

It's one of the most popular Shakespeare plays. Famous speeches, a timeless plot, indelible characters, and a short running time (relatively speaking). So, not surprisingly, a top choice for a production aimed at the younger generation, with the focus on making the 400 year old text accessible to a modern audience.

So, on a sparse thrust stage, we had bright, multicoloured neon lights, lots of projected images and video footage, and occasional snapshots of isolated text - "TRAITOR", "TYRANT", etc. (Set and lighting design by Andrew Exeter). The young students in the audience certainly enjoyed it, several waving their arms during the outrageously superfluous dance sequences. A relentless avalanche of "Sound and fury"!

Modern dress needn't necessarily detract from the classic drama and atmosphere of this darkest of Shakespeare offerings, but when we have the blood-stained Macbeths trudging around in day-glow boxer shorts and oversized fluffy slippers, the usual dread and suspense is dishearteningly diluted.

Yolanda Ovide as Lady Macbeth 

Jamie Sophia Fletcher directs as though she has a serious case of Chronophobia, as we're whisked through the story, with everything ending prematurely with Macbeth's beheading (effectively created through split-second timing of lighting effects and dramatic image projection).

Turning the much-loved 'Scottish play' into a brash, perky, 'dramedy' is a brave move. By introducing Lady M sitting on the toilet, Macbeth stalking King Duncan (an endearing Marc MacKinnon, channeling his inner Peter Ustinov) in his boxer shorts and rainbow coloured socks, Lady Macduff and her child's brutal slaughter climaxing in a cheery 1940s song, and the hiring of Banquo's murderers played like a Reeves and Mortimer sketch, we're straying dangerously into David Lynch territory. Does it work? For the kids it certainly did (and, to be fair, a good number of the adults). For me? Well, I've seen quite a few Macbeths over the years, including classic turns by Kenneth Branagh, Antony Sher, and Pete Postlethwaite, each redefining the role. The lithe and athletic young Robin Morrissey is well up to the job, too. He looks like a guy who could lop off a few heads, and is particularly effective at expressing the man's gradual descent into madness. His return visit to the weird sisters sees him ending up in a filthy ASDA rubbish bin, yet he maintains the dignity of the character, and even adds a delicate touch of subtle physical comedy. It is Morrissey's skill, alongside his formidably demonic Lady M (Yolanda Ovide) that just about keeps the narrative afloat. The bathroom scenes (which, at one point, have a plastic toilet brush utilised as a deadly weapon) initially reduce the leading characters' gravitas, but Lady M's demise is chillingly suggested as we witness her final moments surveying her wrists in the bathtub. 

Robin Morrissey is Macbeth 

Roly Botha deserves a special mention for a spirited, audience-delighting performance as a hyperactive witch, and a cheeky, slutty porter.

All in all, a successful interpretation of a classic text, which has certainly divided opinion. But, I will always salute innovation, bravery, and passion. An unusually young cast was packed with talent, and one or two stars of the future.

IT'S GRIMMS UP NORTH - RIK MAYALL'S LOST TAPES

Presented by Short Tails & Tall Stories

Written by Mike Bennett

Directed & produced by Yvette V Warburton

Aatama, Manchester

Reviewed: 1st August 2024

The Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh: 5-10th August 2024

 

Review by Brian Gorman

Described as a 'Manchester Preview Event' this was a first chance to see a rather unique show, just days before the cast and crew head for the Edinburgh Fringe. It took a little time to actually find the venue, nestled as it is down a narrow, graffiti-filled alleyway in Manchester's popular Northern Quarter. Up a couple of flights of concrete stairs to a pretty intimate, yet scarily atmospheric room that looked like it had seen much better days. A basic set-up of a simple white screen on a small bare stage sufficed, as we were treated to a powerful, energetic, and at times hysterical performance from the terrifyingly enigmatic and dangerously unpredictable Mike Bennett.

 

Written by Bennett (who also happens to be the current lead singer of the legendary Blockheads), several 'magical animated stories' were screened, narrated by the late Rik Mayall, and presented by Bennett in a brash, punk style; cajoling the audience to join in at several moments with pantomimic response. 'Beauty and The Beast', 'The Gingerbread Man', and 'The Three Little Pigs' are certainly extremely familiar tales, but were given fresh, new life in a very basic, 'South Park' animation style, that perfectly complimented the narration. The more static and understated the images, the more effective were the vocals of Mayall, displaying his reckless, breathless, rollercoaster delivery.

 

Commissioned by Pinewood Studios in 2012, these much-loved fairy tales, written in the style of the Brothers Grimm, had a distinctly Northern flavour, and are Rik Mayall's last audio work. With that in mind, there couldn't help but be a bittersweet melancholic delight in hearing his familiar voice again. Together with the tales themselves, we were provided a rare glimpse of the man's working methods, as the unedited sound tapes included some quite simply hilarious interactions between Bennett and Mayall in the recording studio. Choice language was to be expected, and we were not disappointed.

The animations alone were rollicking good fun, and Mayall was a superb voice artist, throwing himself into every character with his legendary manic energy. Combined with the delicious out-takes, and Bennett's live performance, this was a fantastically entertaining evening. Director Yvette Warburton kept things simple, electing to unleash the beast that is the whirlwind Bennett, and channel the ethereal Mayall electricity. 

Supplying excellent support was the incredibly youthful looking, bespectacled, Buddy Holly-esque Mancunian performance poet, Thick Richard. Something of a local legend, and (in my personal view) one of the country's great undiscovered treasures. Rapid-fire, barbed-tongued, cynical, angry, and virtually spitting venomous ectoplasm, he was the perfect addition to Mike Bennett's older, warmer onstage persona.

Simply wonderful.

TONY SLATTERY: RESUSCITATED

 

Erica Lear with Tony Slattery.

Tank Bar & Live Lounge, Warrington

Touring

Review by Brian Gorman

The subtitle for this endearingly dotty, scatter-brained, and heartwarming show is 'THE STAR OF 'WHOSE LINE IS IT ANYWAY?'IS BACK FROM THE DEAD!'. Brutally honest, and shot through with the blackest of humour, the title says it all. Tony Slattery was a shining light, with matinee idol looks; a  clean cut, goofy, live wire star of stage and screen throughout the 80s and 90s, whose career nosedived spectacularly, due to a mix of well-documented physical and mental health problems. However, in recent times he has bounced back, and here demonstrates he has lost none of his trademark chaotic improvisation skills, whilst presenting a more humble, all-too-human side during a first half conversation with host Erica Lear.

Looking like a slightly sozzled Santa Claus, apparently caught unawares on a Boxing Day morning, Slattery walks gingerly to the tiny stage, like a rat-arsed fearful hamster, and is welcomed by a genuinely respectful and heartfelt round of applause. It's a small, but perfectly formed audience, which suits this curiously intimate show that is half interview, half improvisational comedy (with fellow performer, the host's husband, Allan Lear). 

Erica Lear, Allan Lear, and Tony Slattery.

Doubling as the show's producer. Erica Lear is an unashamed huge fan of Slattery, revealing him to be her childhood crush, which amuses the great man himself no end. Lear clearly loves her guest, and never misses an opportunity to gently rib him for his roles in the universally derided 'Carry On Columbus', and a series of uninspired tv commercials for the likes of Abbey Life and Labatts lager. Slattery responds good-naturedly by revealing a Private Eye magazine joke that his old answerphone used to have the recorded message "Hello, it's Tony Slattery. I'll do it". Covering his Cambridge years with fellow students Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, Emma Thompson, etc., there is a real sense of personal tragedy at the role call of Oscar winners and beloved National Treasures. Whilst his friends were reaching the heights, the equally talented Slattery hit rock bottom. Yet, he seems to take it all in his stride, and is often near to tears when talking about his old mates. Occasional roles in tv series Kingdom, Coronation Street, and The Royal kept him afloat through recent years, and a 2020 BBC documentary revealed memories of childhood trauma, substance abuse and alcohol dependency. Much of this was covered here, tonight, but carefully handled by Erica Lear, as Slattery's ruthlessly honest self analysis was kept in check.

For the second half, it was all-out entertainment as Slattery and comedy actor Allan Lear played out a series of comic improvisation scenes with the help of a couple of enthusiastic audience volunteers. Off the cuff humour combined with surreal slapstick to produce a thoroughly enjoyable show, with participants and observers often on the verge of hysterics.

On stage, Slattery is a consummate performer, talking candidly about his drink and drug problems, long road back to performing live, and the rigours of falling in love during the terrifying AIDS era, and the stigma of being tested for HIV. With his long-time partner in the audience, sitting just a few feet away from the stage, the atmosphere was electric.  

Slattery's pairing with the impressive Allan Lear is inspired, with the two bouncing off each other perfectly. Lear often provided the ignition to an oft times bewildered looking Slattery, who always rose to the occasion as though some long buried memory had been revived - or resuscitated. 

A focussed audience were hanging on every word, delighting in each convoluted twist of the narrative. Slattery child-like, seemingly on the verge of derangement.

If you're a Tony Slattery fan, you will love this show. The format is nigh on perfect. If you don't know him from Adam, it makes no difference. This is sheer entertainment, with a poignant, affecting, and inspiring core.

Touring 2024/25

THE BLOCKHEADS

Photo: India Skye Charlton

Alexander's, Chester (23rd June 2024)

Review by Brian Gorman 

If you're in the grand city of Chester on a sweltering midsummer's Sunday evening, then there's no better place to experience a band than the gloriously atmospheric courtyard of Alexander's Live.

The Blockheads were the ideal outfit for a place like this. Full throttle funky, jazzy, blues rock echoing into the still summer air, and threatening to blow the (non-existent) roof off.

Any band that has to carry on after the sad demise of a charismatic, universally loved frontman like Ian Dury, has its work cut out. Few bands manage to pull it off, but in the manic, frenzied, firecracker figure of Mike Bennett, the Blockheads certainly have.

Playing in the compact, high walled courtyard, there's a feeling of attending a gladiatorial display at a modern day amphitheatre, with a certain theatrical quality thanks to a wrought iron, spiral staircase that the musicians needed to navigate on their route to the stage area. Bennett is the first to appear, entering carefully, unannounced, and casually secreting himself behind the sound desk. Out of sight of the audience (except for a few punters grabbing a beer in the bar), he prepared himself by slipping on a tweed flat cap, whilst crouched on his haunches, and waiting for his band mates to take their places.

Photo: India Skye Charlton

Faces familiar to the old school fans elicited the expected whoops and cheers, as the likes of guitarist Chaz Jankel appeared, and prepared themselves for battle.

Once the gang were ready, Bennett took his place at the mic stand, gave the audience a thousand yard stare, brandishing his black eyeliner enhanced peepers, and screaming out a gravelly, Essex twanged "Oi, Oi?!!"

With the capacity crowd now excitedly revved up, the band ease into their opening song, the tingly, seductive, piano-led 'Wake Up'. A deceptively gentle, yet cheeky, saucy little number that tickles the assorted nether regions of the audience. Mickey Gallagher caresses the ivories in fine, light-fingered style, while Bennett's croaky, Essex lad vocals perfectly channeled the spirit and attitude of Ian Dury. 'Wake Up (And Make Love To Me)' is the perfect opener, and a friendly challenge to the already up-for-it crowd to join in the forthcoming musical gangbang.

Photo: India Skye Charlton

Next up, in a rather similar (throbbing) vein, is 'I'm Partial To Your Abracadabra'. It's a non-stop erotic cabaret tonight, and the audience are lapping it up. Bennett encroaches on the punters on the front line, emitting a penetrating laser beam stare reminiscent of Gort the robot from 'The Day The Earth Stood Still'. The man is a totally wired, pale-faced Baron Samedi, working his disturbing, devilish magic with undisguised glee.  

The hits are greeted with frenzied appreciation, and prove to be evergreen delights. 'What A Waste' is a little more on the melancholy side, but retains the infectious tremble that permeates the Blockheads' creative output. 

Dave Lewis's sax squeals and pierces the dusk, and he manages to wander into the crowd, at one point. The courtyard makes for a truly immersive experience, and with this particular band, you really couldn't ask for a more sensationally integrated gig.

'Sex And Drugs And Rock And Roll' could be the band's manifesto, and has lead man Bennett indulging his theatrical side, wildly gesticulating to the near-frothing crowd. Chaz Jankel's guitar (alongside bassist Nathan King) brings every song to hysterical life, and as the co-writer of their biggest hits, is particularly  welcomed with enormous love and appreciation this evening. 

'Reasons To Be Cheerful (Part Three)', that crazy, early sample of cockney rap is delivered perfectly by Bennett, and gets the crowd dancing like delirious smurfs. John Roberts' savage, primal drumbeat kicks things off. Howling sax from Dave Lewis contributes the somewhat incongruous romantic interlude, and showcases the sheer playfulness and eccentricity of the Blockheads.  Of course, it's the opening bars of their number one chart-topper, 'Hit Me With Your Rythm Stick' that seals the deal, tonight. Bennett raises his game to ever more dizzying heights with this jerky, aggressive anthem, whilst also absolutely nailing the crooning, gentle vocals. The terrifyingly stuttering sax, combined with Mickey Gallagher's jangly, seductive piano is irresistible. This song is a living embodiment of a full-blown, driving, gathering orgasm.

On a sweltering summer's eve, in this boiling cauldron of passion, The Blockheads delivered a truly anarchic, lusty, adrenaline enhanced shafting of the primal erotic shared consciousness. A crazed celebration of the human condition, and all its unbridled, barely contained volcanic power. 

It's SO nice to be a lunatic.

THE GANGS OF NEW YORK

 Grosvenor Park Open Air Theatre, Chester

25th July 2024

Produced by Storyhouse

Adapted by Kieran Lynn

Directed by John Young

Until 31st August

Martin Scorsese's epic 2002 blockbuster movie 'Gangs Of New York' is far from an obvious choice for Storyhouse Chester's annual open air theatre season. In recent years I've enjoyed several sparkling productions of more traditional fare, such as 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', 'Romeo & Juliet', etc. With the Grosvenor Park location providing a generally convivial family atmosphere, with eager punters devouring picnics of expensive cheese and red wine, and the individual shows usually crammed with panto style tomfoolery, shoe-horned-in contemporary pop songs, and a feverish madcap 'anything goes' style, surely adapting this most visceral and bloodthirsty gangster drama was a huge gamble?

Well, indeed it is, but Storyhouse have managed to pull it off. Yes, there's the usual sensory overload of spirited musical numbers, and music hall style audience participation, including the regular breaking of the fourth wall with actors chasing each other through the audience, clambering over the legs of squealing punters, often snatching a drink from an unguarded bottle, or taking a glass out of an obliging audience member's hand (it's as if covid never happened!). But, and it's a big but, these end of the pier shennanigans only just about manage to sit comfortably alongside some brutal and gut-wrenching fight scenes. and tense stand-offs. For those of a nervous disposition, I'd recommend that you prepare yourself for some truly knuckle breaking, full-throated carnage!

Our protagonist is newly-arrived Irish immigrant John Morrissey (an amiable, and oft times feral Oisin Thompson), determined to make a life for himself in 19th century New York city, and succeed in the face of undiluted racism and rampant political corruption. The bustling, virtually lawless mean streets are awash with petty thieves and murderers, with the city barely held together by dirty money, under the counter favours, and old school bigotry. John finds a kindred spirit in the feisty and fiercely independent Maggie (a sparkly, enticing Hanora Kamen). She's an expert pickpocket, who can more than hold her own in a fight, and an icy breaker of hearts. 

John soon finds himself earning some much-needed cash in the murky, dog-eat-dog world of bare knuckle boxing. Cue some tasty, sweaty, half naked skirmishes featuring much spillage of the old claret. Morrissey beats his first opponent 'Chuck Connors' (Tom Benjamin), who just happens to be the champion of local gangster William 'The Butcher' Poole, and a deadly, murderous rivalry is born. James Sheldon has the unenviable task of taking on a role made famous by the great Daniel Day-Lewis, and succeeds admirably. He's a big, gruff, bear of a man. Often wading through scenes of carnage, sporting a blood spattered apron and a leather belt dangling an impressive array of professional butcher's knives. Sheldon radiates menace, his calm swagger justified when we see him burst into action, despatching hapless opponents with Terminator style, balletic efficiency. Bill's tough-as-nails, wife Lize is played in a no nonsense, seen-it-all way by the steely Joanne Howarth, who looks after her brutal husband's interests in an often disturbingly motherly way. 

James Sheldon as 'Bill The Butcher'

A special mention must go to Lucas Button as the naive and immensely likeable police constable Lew Barker. Smitten by the strong-willed Maggie, he soon finds himself caught between his allegiance to the greedy, whiskey-fuelled Mayor Fernando Wood (an often hilarious Robert Maskell) and his reliance on backhanders from Bill The Butcher. When Lew betrays Bill, he receives an almighty beating from Bill, on a par with Brando in 'The Chase' or Christopher Walken in 'The Dogs Of War'. As I stated earlier, the onstage violence is truly effective, with heads regularly slammed against the wooden decking, or on to primitive wheelbarrows and carts that make up the sparse set. There are as many belly laughs and hysterical shrieks of delight from the audience, as there are howls of disgust, surprise, and shock at the snapping of limbs, gouging of eyes, and gut-splitting stabbings. 

Expert movement direction from Lucy Cullingford, and fight direction by Kaitlin Howard, are vital elements which succeed magnificently. Together with a rollicking, and often suitably moody musical score by local artistes ME + Deboe, all the ingredients for a roller coaster theatrical experience are here.

A truly oddball choice for a show, but a very very welcome one that has certainly paid off.

Oh, and to the woman who brought a baby in, then had to take it out crying, ten minutes in - What did you THINK was going to happen?!

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM

Grosvenor Park Open Air Theatre

Reviewer: Brian Gorman

Writer: William Shakespeare

Director: Elvi Piper

 

Shakespeare’s ever popular, and most accessible play is an obvious choice for an open-air production. A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with its Athenian lovers, and ‘rude mechanicals’ mucking about in an enchanted forest, and interfered with (both physically, and mentally) by meddling faeries, is the perfect material for an outdoor performance. This latest Chester Storyhouse production has all the requisite elements for a fun-filled, raucous, knockabout experience, to delight young and old alike, yet there’s something sadly missing. Essentially, it’s the magic. The real magic of the supernatural creatures has gone astray, replaced by pantomime-esque tomfoolery, and lowest-common-denominator japes and pratfalls.

Theseus and Hippolyta, rulers of Athens, are to be married, whilst four young lovers squabble amongst themselves, and a bunch of dim-witted amateur actors rehearse their feeble comedy following an invitation to perform at the royal wedding. Cue the inevitable chaos when the lovers and the hams wind up in the forest, and find themselves playthings of the mighty Oberon and Titania, the supernatural mirror images of the Athenian royals. This play is a gift for directors. It has huge potential for drama, comedy, romance, suspense, and even horror. I have seen thrilling versions where the light and shade has been presented, and the laughs and scares perfectly balanced. Oberon can be terrifying, yet here he is presented as a kindly, twinkly-eyed ringmaster by Daniel Burke. Titania can be supremely sexy, a diva, and a rampant temptress, but is portrayed as a drunken, loud Scottish man by Laurie Jamieson. I presume the character is a man, as he is dressed in traditional male clothing, but who knows. The actors are all fine, and play their roles with great energy and passion, but their efforts are diluted by the directorial choices of Elvi Piper. Molly Grace-Cutler comes closest to achieving a lovely blend of surreal comic timing, and darker flashes of mischievousness as Oberon’s enigmatic assistant, Puck. She spent much of her time clambering over audience members, cheekily chomping on snacks and drinks, and almost coming a cropper when slipping off a bench and almost flattening a chap on the front row! A vital component of any ‘Dream production is Bottom the weaver. The, usually male, overbearing, egotistical, uber ham ‘luvvie’ who ends up being turned into a donkey, then sexually assaulted by a drugged Titania. Victoria Brazier does her best in the role, but this particular interpretation of the character is a little flat, and missing a great deal of the energy and vigour demanded.

          

Designer Adam Wiltshire has decided to forget about the enchanted forest, and elected to choose a circus setting. Fair enough. But, we’ve lost the magic. The faerie inhabitants of the forest have been reduced to clowns and acrobats, bereft of any sense of awe. As with many of these open-air shows, the emphasis is on pantomime style fun and frolics. But, that’s to be expected, when the atmosphere of the venue is one big picnic, with some punters happily chomping on their chicken drumsticks and quaffing their prosecco, whilst jabbering to each other during scenes. There is the audience-pleasing smattering of contemporary pop songs, performed by the talented cast, that provide some entertaining interludes between the shenanigans. The result is a pleasant, undemanding evening, which is probably best enjoyed with a cheese butty and a can of Stella.

 

Runs until Saturday 27 August 2023

3.5 Stars

Knockabout Rowdy Fun

PETER HOOK & THE LIGHT: Easter Homecoming

Night One: 

Photo: Helen Millington

Albert Hall, Manchester

Reviewer: Brian Gorman

 

Peter Hook and The Light made their ‘Easter Homecoming’ at Manchester’s magnificent Albert Hall. For Joy Division and New Order fans, this three-day residency was an absolute godsend (Christian or otherwise). Nobody can say that Hooky doesn’t give value for money, or forgets the origins of two of the most influential British bands of all time (in which he was a founder member, bassist, and co-songwriter). On Thursday, things kicked off with a performance of each band’s debut album; ‘Unknown Pleasures’ and ‘Movement’. With its beautiful stained-glass windows providing sparkling dances of light from the setting spring sun, we were bathed in the atmosphere of a virtual pagan celebration. Spacious, yet surprisingly intimate. For Peter Hook, life as a legendary musician, and local hero, had now come full circle. Situated on Peter Street, the Albert Hall is almost directly opposite the Radisson hotel, formerly the Free Trade Hall. In 1976, Hooky and his future Joy Division bandmates had attended the notorious Sex Pistols gig, a seismic event that provided inspiration to the likes of the young Steven Morrissey, Mick Hucknall, and many more proto punks. I thought Hooky might have said a few words about this striking example of psychogeographic synchronicity, but he left the talking to his trusty bass guitar.

Photo: Scott Gouldsbrough

Following a glowing introduction from Councillor Ann-Marie Humphreys (Ceremonial Mayor of Salford), things blasted off with the classic No Love Lost, from Joy Division’s previous incarnation, Warsaw. This was the perfect choice to serve as an overture to Unknown Pleasures, with its doleful, disturbing opening quickly evolving into a driving, hypnotic, angry assault. Magnificent. Here is where it all started. All the clues are here. All the pointers to the future. Innovative, startling, frightening, intriguing, and an instant classic. Hooky’s voice has also evolved, and now has echoes of original vocalist Ian Curtis. A great beginning, and the crowd loved it. Unknown Pleasures’ opening track, Disorder, is up next, and we’re into one of the greatest debut albums ever produced. Sheer post-punk beauty, with its brash, confident, rattling evocation of a sci-fi tinged 1970s rain-sodden Manchester streets. Hooky is in his element, looking fitter than ever, with the rock star swagger, and (thankfully) having ditched the baggy shorts for tight black jeans and heavy boots.

Photo: Max Stewart

Playing complete albums is always a little risky, with the audience waiting for the big crowd-pleasers, and sometimes a little impatient with the lesser-appreciated tracks. But, when those beloved songs arrive, the atmosphere bristles, hands are raised, and the blood pumps. Day Of The Lords, Candidate, and Insight follow, and are respectfully received, with the die-hard fans relishing hearing them played live. The disturbing nature of Curtis’ lyrics, combined with the Hook/Sumner/Morris arrangements prove just what a tremendous creation Joy Division was, and how they managed to create an album that was a classic from the moment it hit the streets. Next up is the all-time favourite New Dawn Fades. This is the one that has everything, with its simple, dark and foreboding beat, leading into a swirling, triumphant, reach-for-the-stars epic mood before Curtis’ melancholic, distressing, and sorrowful lyrics undercut things. It’s as if the music is fighting a losing battle, yet keeping pace with the oppressive lyrics, catapulting the whole song into another dimension entirely. This is as dark, tragic, and desperate as it gets, and Hooky and The Light perform it as though written yesterday. There’s nothing dated about this album, and it retains its awesome, soul destroying, uplifting power.

The plucky opening bars of She’s Lost Control give the crowd another chance to scream their approval, and prepare to bask in another classic. Spiky, energetic, and anthemic. Then it’s Shadowplay, and here’s the rock ‘n roll side of the post punk mood. A lighter tone, a more audience friendly song, yet the unnerving lyrics once again demonstrate how under-rated the track is. Lines such as “I did everything, everything I wanted to. I let them use you, for their own ends” could never bring anything resembling a smile to anybody’s face. I Remember Nothing brings things to a suitably unnerving end. A bad dream of a song, and one wonders how on earth the young men of Joy Division created such darkness without descending into deep depression and despair. It’s hardly a sing-along party tune. And, we’re at the interval.

If Unknown Pleasures heralded the arrival of a whole new sound, a clarion call for the ditching of aggressive punk, and the embracing of considered, raw emotion and genius, with the promise of future success, hope, and admiration, then Movement is an entirely different beast. Following Ian Curtis’ suicide, barely a year after Unknown Pleasures, the remaining band members continued as New Order, and picked themselves up to attempt to rebuild their sound, and their lives. It is a curious album, and more than a little jittery, nervous, tentative, and experimental. Once again, Hooky gives us a track to serve as an overture to the full album. Procession is New Order’s second single, released in 1981, and an obvious bridge from Joy Division to the fledgling new band. It’s another great choice, and despite the ever-present melancholic lyrics, it is uplifting and triumphant, suggesting the band will come through the pain of their friend’s death, and live on. The opening track from Movement is another JD/NO hybrid. Dreams Never End suggests the creativity and ambitions of the new band continue unabated, yet recognise the loss they have endured. It’s a cracking song, with a confident, lighter tone, and a glorious triumphant rhythm. The crowd love it, and we witness the ashes of Joy Division glowing as a whole new animal is birthed. Following the immortal Unknown Pleasures, the performance of Movement has the audience smiling, and respectfully soaking up the tentative New Order sound, with its careful, wary steps towards the perfect, dance and indie fusion that would burst into arrogant life on future albums. For now, this is a rare opportunity to hear this intriguing album played live, and to experience the nuts and bolts being reshuffled, and choices made as to the nature and effect desired by a new dynamic. The Him is pure Joy Division, and the sound is as distressing, dark, and terrifying as any Curtis composition. The whole album is a real struggle, and one can feel the sadness and loss. Unknown Pleasures had Curtis singing about the darkest and saddest elements of the human psyche, but Movement combines those sentiments and allusions with harsh reality. New Order could have easily descended even further into nihilistic murmurings, and Movement was, thankfully, not a sign of things to come.

Photo: Scott Gouldsbrough

With the audience a little subdued, it was time for the encore. Hooky dedicated Atmosphere to the late Nora Forster, wife of John Lydon, and delivered an epic, spinetingling rendition of the Joy Division anthem. Following this with an early song, guaranteed to get the energy levels soaring, the sparky, pulsating Digital, we were then treated to a sensational, rousing Transmission, which got the balcony on its feet and cheering. This was what the audience needed, and the cobwebs were completely blown away when the opening notes of Ceremony began. A huge sing-along brought the evening to a wonderful climax, with the unofficial Manchester anthem Love Will Tear Us Apart threatening to take the roof off. Hooky and The Light (Paul Duffy, Paul Kehoe, and David Potts) took their bows, with Hooky providing the icing on the cake by ripping his shirt open, buttons flying, and flinging it out into the near hysterical front rows. Departing the stage, to a recorded version of Blue Monday (a curious artistic decision), the crowd slowly dispersed. Saddened, yet simultaneously elated.

Reviewed on Thurs 6^th April

4.5 Stars

Touching perfection

THE TIME TRAVELLER'S WIFE

Storyhouse, Chester

Review by Brian Gorman

Reviewed on 13 October 2022

 

Book written by Lauren Gunderson

Based on the novel by Audrey Niffenegger

Based on the screenplay by Bruce Joel Rubin

Music & Lyrics by Joss Stone & Dave Stewart

Directed by Bill Buckhurst

 

I don’t think I have ever seen a more spectacular, and visually stunning production as this outstanding adaptation of the novel (and film) ‘The Time Traveller’s Wife’. It’s a great title which promises a great deal, and this brand-new musical with music & lyrics by the mighty Dave Stewart (The Eurythmics) and Joss Stone, completely lives up to all expectations. This world premiere has delighted Chester audiences on its debut run, and is due to transfer to the West End.

Henry (David Hunter) has the power to spontaneously travel through time, disappearing at often inappropriate moments (including on his own wedding day), and reappearing moments later having visibly aged. His predicament is a pretty major hindrance to his relationship with the title character; his wife Clare (Joanna Woodward). The show opens with the wedding day preparations, and a huge invitation card projected onto the towering, monolithic screens that dominate the stage. Anna Fleischle’s design is comprised of several huge blank screens that skate around the stage to form a bewildering variety of backgrounds and locations. Effective use of front and back projection bring a multitude of time periods to life, including 1960s New York when Henry visits his youthful parents, and his infant self.

It's a risky story to tell, live on stage, as the narrative zips around time and space, and things can be a little difficult to keep track of. Fortunately, there is so much happening, so many memorable characters, and outstanding magical effects, that the audience are whisked along on an emotional rollercoaster. I can usually tell when I’m watching something good, as I haven’t the time to get bored. Even with the very best shows, there will be moments when my mind wanders to what pint I’m going to have in the bar, later, or what I’m going to eat when I get home. But, on this occasion, time literally flew by, and we were witnessing a raucous and appreciative full house rising to their feet at the finale.

I’ve never been a fan of musicals. I can admire the talent and effort that goes into them, but I find the often cheesy, camp, and cringingly melodramatic way that characters suddenly burst into song, pretty irritating and alienating. I thought things were heading in that direction when we had the opening, ensemble song ‘The Story Of Love’, and I was prepared for a barrage of schmaltz. However, my misgivings deteriorated immediately once we headed back a few years (onscreen captions were a great help, here), and witnessed Henry’s first meeting with Clare. However, and prepare for some metaphorical head-scratching, it isn’t Clare’s first meeting with Henry. Here, in this flirty, comic scene we are given the show in microcosm. Henry and Clare will meet again, at varying times in their lives, and one or the other will have the upper hand, experience-wise. It’s a wonderful template for romantic confusion, a little slapstick, and buckets of pathos. A stand-out scene involves Henry making a unilateral decision about their complex and problematic relationship, and Clare reacting with extreme anger and hurt. Woodward belts out probably the most effective and moving song (‘I’m In Control’) which had the audience applauding through their tears, and the actor visibly shaken.

As with all time travel stories, the possibilities for entertainment, enchantment, and ingenious solutions to painfully recognisable human problems are limitless. So, with ‘The Time Traveller’s Wife’, we get to enjoy every emotion possible, every hope, and every fear. Henry’s unique ability allows him to encounter his parents, friends, and partner at varying stages of their lives, and their character development. He sees the small moments, and the traumatic incidents that will impact them for years to come. Henry’s personal experience, character, and inner life are effectively communicated by David Hunter’s endearing everyman (part Jim Carrey, part Henry Fonda). He is bewildered, angry, tortured, playful, and often emotionally and physically lost. Every appearance finds him having to immediately adapt to the emotions of the moment, whilst processing equally demanding scenarios just seconds (to him) and years (to every other character) ago. It’s an incredibly demanding role that gives the actor a magnificent opportunity to communicate every facet of the character’s heart and mind, and Hunter succeeds admirably.

Chris Fisher’s illusions are used to enhance, but not overwhelm the narrative. Henry’s regular disappearances, prefaced by the character suddenly trembling and jerking with stress and pain, are simply astonishing at times. Ranging from simple distraction techniques, resulting in the actor exiting unseen, while his clothes fall in a crumpled heap to the floor, we are also treated to complex lighting, animation, and projections that show Henry travelling through time in the form of an epic ballet. Special mention must go to 12-year-old Phoebe Cheffings, who played the younger version of Clare (the role is shared, on different nights, with others) with great skill, tender vocals, and a maturity beyond her years.

Bill Buckhurst’s direction keeps things tight, and every character has a chance to shine. Short, impactful scenes play out cinematically, and the songs are effortlessly slipped in, contributing hugely to the inner life of the characters, and often segueing seamlessly into the action.

This is a show that is a true audience pleaser. There is romance, action, adventure, drama, comedy, and a triumphant soundtrack. The acting is top notch, the set is amazing, the effects outstanding. What is there not to like?

Well, I could have done without the entire cast reassembling for a grand finale, belting out ‘Love Wins The Day’, which only served to undermine the poignant and heart-rending scenes that would have made for a dramatically effective, and bittersweet, ending. Maybe that’s just me, though?

I still don’t like musicals, but this isn’t just a musical.

 

Tags: Storyhouse, Chester, The Time Traveller’s Wife, Lauren Gunderson, Joss Stone, Dave Stewart, Bill Buckhurst, Anna Fleischle, David Hunter, Joanna Woodward, Phoebe Cheffings,

BOOTLEG BLONDIE

Alexander’s, Chester

Reviewer: Brian Gorman

Reviewed on 10 September 2022

The classy, dynamic Alexander’s Bar, in Chester city centre has hosted a great many tribute bands of late, and aficionados of the 70s and 80s post-punk era are certainly being well catered for at the moment. Just recently, we had the fantastic U2 Experience, live on stage, recreating the sights and sounds of frontman Bono’s Irish rockers, and tonight we welcomed fellow iconic music royalty, Blondie. Here, being celebrated in the form of the mightily impressive Bootleg Blondie.

Billed as ‘The official Blondie tribute band’, the group were formed over twenty years ago, and have the distinction of being endorsed by Debbie Harry, and having played with Blondie’s original drummer Clem Burke, and guitarist Gary Valentine. Add to this the fact that they have been thanked on Blondie’s album ‘Pollinator’, and played at the legendary CBGB’s in New York (a favourite haunt for the original band, back in the 1970s), Bootleg Blondie have a lot to live up to, and had a sold-out crowd to impress. The band arrived a fashionably thirty minutes late on stage, but we were soon tapping our feet to the opening bars of the classic ‘Heart Of Glass,’ and doing double-takes when singer Debbie Harris (yes, that’s how she bills herself) appeared in the classic little black dress, with the single slender shoulder strap; diminutive, with the trademark shaggy blonde bob, scarlet lipstick, and perky confidence. “Once I had a love, and it was a gas …” rang out, and there was no mistaking that high pitched, crystal clear vocal. We could be seeing the real thing, here! Well, it’s about as close as you can get. It’s rare, indeed, to see a tribute band with this degree of constructed authenticity, combining looks, voice, attitude, and body language. The audience, of whom the great majority were female (of all ages), were in heaven, dancing along to all the hits (and, respectfully, nodding along to the rhythm of the lesser-known songs).

Next up was another all-time sing-along classic, ‘Dreaming,’ with its frenetic pace, frantic drumming, and primal punk energy, all iced over by those sheer, sparkling vocals. Ms Harris had it all, even the ‘Noo-Yawk’ accent, used to wonderful effect when she screamed out “Sing, you Mother-F**kers!” The hits kept coming, and the audience were with them all the way, with several fans scrambling up on to chairs to grab a few mobile snaps of the dynamic punk princess in full flow. The proto rap, and hip hop hit, ‘Rapture,’ was perfectly realised, but the biggest applause of the night came for the anthemic, mournful and melancholic disco-funk-new wave masterpiece ‘Atomic’, as Debbie donned stylish shades, and long white opera gloves. A life-sized cut-out of a red telephone box formed part of the stage backdrop, and our charismatic lead singer was soon brandishing an old-fashioned handset and receiver when launching into ‘Hanging On The Telephone,’ and now wearing the classic 70s Vultures t-shirt.

Reaching the half-hour mark, I assumed we were about to break for an interval when Debbie surprised us with a Marilyn Monroe style rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Apparently, this was for ‘Colin and Leslie’, and their large party of friends in attendance. However, this simply led straight into another flurry of timeless hits, including ‘One Way Or Another’, ‘Picture This’, ‘Maria’, and the ever popular ‘Denis’. A non-stop roller coaster ride through the Blondie songbook culminated in the ‘final’ song, ‘Sunday Girl’, with Debbie now sporting another mini outfit, this time in blood red. After a raucous reception, the expected rhetorical question “Do ya want another one?” rang out, and we were treated to the epic, Giorgio Moroder disco classic ‘Call Me’ (theme song from the film ‘American Gigolo’), followed by a scorching cover of T-rex’s ‘Get It On’, and a spine-tingling reprise of ‘Heart Of Glass’ for the climax.

Bootleg Blondie delivered exactly what any Debbie Harry fan could have possibly wished for. The uncanny resemblance, and vocals, of singer Debbie Harris, and the magnificent recreation of a stream of immortal classic tunes. The audience were bouncing, and singing along, all night. If the original band ever need a break, they know who to call. 

Tags: Chester, Alexander’s, Bootleg Blondie, Debbie Harry, Debbie Harris, Heart Of Glass, Call Me, New York, CBGBs, Giorgio Moroder

Star rating: 5

Dynamite Blondie Tribute

THE U2 EXPERIENCE

 – Alexander’s, Chester

Reviewer: Brian Gorman

20 August 2022

The popular Alexander’s bar in the heart of Chester city centre hosted a real treat for fans of 80s stadium rock, when The U2 Experience rattled the brickwork, shook the timbers, and threatened to blow the roof off. Billed as ‘The UK’s most authentic U2 Tribute Band,’ the reality certainly lived up to the hype. The Irish rock band have had decades of success, with multiple million selling albums, from their 1970s beginnings through their 1980s heyday, and beyond. Fronted by the almost messianic personality of Bono (these days a very ‘Marmite’ figure, often parodied, but nonetheless a formidable stage presence), this is a band that only the brave or the foolhardy would attempt to replicate, live on stage.

Sequenced lighting, onscreen visuals, video clips, and special effects combined to make this a truly spectacular experience, with the four band members uniting to faithfully recreate the U2 sound. Chris Field performing as Bono has a nigh impossible job, attempting to mimic one of the greatest stage performers of all time, but he does so magnificently. There’s the sheer power and studied arrogance, combined with vocals that soar impressively to the heights that the songs demand. Complete with ever present dark glasses, and black outfit, you could be forgiven for thinking this was the man himself. A full house was bouncing with unbridled excitement, and even the more elderly attendees were dancing and singing along with newly unleashed vigour. Opening with the pulse-pounding ‘Elevation’, the night got off to a flying start with the audience joining in from the opening lyrics. The pulsating lighting effects, and video screen showing the real U2 in action, added to the overall atmosphere. U2’s sound is very much rooted in the lead guitar of ‘The Edge’, with its glacial, almost angelic vibration, and is instantly recognisable and unique. John Brown has mastered this sound, with the equally superb Clive Witcomb as ‘Adam Clayton’ on bass guitar, and Mark Owen’s ‘Larry Mullen Jnr’ on drums.

Following the crowd-pleasing opener, ‘Elevation’, came one of U2’s best known stadium anthems, ‘Beautiful Day’. Though its charm had been tainted a little when appropriated by ITV’s football highlights programme ‘The Premiership’, it still retains its classic power and sheer joyfulness. Introducing the third song of the night, we now got to hear ‘Bono’ speak. This was another highlight of the evening, as Field delivered a pitch perfect impression, with the recognisable soft Irish lilt. It was time to head back to the very early days, with a fantastic recreation of U2’s first single from 1979, ‘Out Of Control’. A near two-hour set comprised of all-time classics, and rarely-performed album tracks, with stand-out songs being a superbly effective ‘Bullet The Blue Sky’ – which had The Edge moving through the delighted crowd, and a moving, barnstorming tribute to Martin Luther King with ‘Pride’. There was also time for a humorous dig at the Bryan Adams song ‘(Everything I Do) I Do It For You’, when Bono drolly mentioned that the song that knocked Adams off the top of the charts (after a record 16 weeks) was U2’s ‘The Fly’ (which they duly performed with gusto!). The first half of the show ended with another singalong to the epic, frantic ‘Vertigo’.

‘City Of Blinding Lights’ opens the second act, and we’re up and running again with another great track. It’s a more low-key, gentle, romantic, and melancholic U2, here, but with that same soaring, stadium friendly quality. An early 1980s fan favourite ‘Bad’ showcases the epic U2 sound, with the song building and building, and demanding more and more from the Bono vocals. Written about a heroin addicted friend, it’s a real emotional rollercoaster, ending with a wailing, heart-rending lyric “I’m wide awake; I’m not sleeping”, echoed by the mesmerised audience. The song fades away, and the audience are now primed, as the band segue into the haunting, dream-like opening notes of the immortal ‘Where The Streets Have No Name’. A rattling, steamrollering, chugging juggernaut of a song, The U2 Experience showed just what they could do, and had the audience cheering like crazy at their masterful rendition of the 1980s classic. Closing the evening with the truly inspiring and uplifting ‘With Or Without You’, there were more than a few tears rolling down the smiling faces of the audience. The vocals, guitars and drums fused together into one almighty, spiritual force of nature, and blew every lurking demon away. This was truly U2, in spirit, and an awesome – in every sense of the word - experience.

This review was first published by  https://www.thereviewshub.com/

Tags: Chester, Alexander’s, U2, The U2 Experience, Chris Field, John Brown, Clive Witcomb, Mark Owen, Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton, Larry Mullen Jnr

Star rating: 5

Spectacular Rock Recreation