Her Naked Skin

"Her Naked Skin" was a curious choice to be the first new play on the Olivier Stage by a living female writer. Firstly it isn't really, since Coram Boy was both new and by a living woman (someone feel free to correct me, but a play adapted by a woman from a book by a woman seems to me to fit the above statement), secondly it's particularly female in it's topic albeit not overtly feminist (must a female writer just write about women?) . The third and most crucial curiosity in the choice is that it's not very good. It can't have looked good on paper either with it's episodic, unfocused nature and bizarre anachronistic dialogue. All this is a pity because everything else about the production is impressive from the designs to the acting.

The piece feels both like it wants to be an in depth three hander dealing with repression in a barely post Victorian era and an epic work covering the massive topic of women's emancipation. Either way it's a damn squib. Neither the love triangle nor the broad sweep are handled well. A couple of scenes are moving and effective but they are brief (all the scenes are far too brief) and few and far between. What tension is built through the lesbian relationship is beaten to a pulp when it breaks up not because of socio-political tensions (which might have been at least a little interesting) but because one character seemingly tires of the other one. The atmosphere isn't helped by the constant shifting of scenes with the revolve in near constant use and several episodes, the shooting scene for example, could be cut without anyone knowing they had gone so superfluous are they to the narrative. The force feeding scene is pretty gruesome but it's gratuitous and the impact is built on disgust rather than anything meaningful. Another major issue is the sheer number of characters and the fact that the vast majority are very difficult to like. There are dozens of different male characters all of whom are portrayed as absolute rotters, whilst the female cast portray a range of stubborn women who, regardless of the importance of their cause, spend most of the play breaking windows and being generally aggressive. All in all thank god for the quality of the acting.

Lesley Manville is right on the money as the middle class lady heavily involved in the cause showing a brave steely exterior betrayed by an angry sexuality. Jemima Rooper gets the only truly likable character as Eve a naive girl seduced by the camaraderie of the suffragettes. She and Manville have fantastic chemistry, the scene on the park bench being particularly poignant. Adrian Rawlins does his best but he's saddled with some of the most stilted dialogue, the arguments with Manville don't come close to ringing true. Susan Engel brings a bit of wit and warmth to the hardened suffragette Florence Boorman but her role is not well developed despite the amount of stage time she's given. Beyond her caustic wit the character is effectively a stereotype.

Much praise must also be given to Howard Davies and his designer Rob Howell who have conjured a brilliant set which is the only thing preventing the entire production grinding to a halt. Constant scene changes and a breadth of different locations are all deftly handled without dominating. The projections are largely unnecessary but don't overly distract. The effective music by Harvey Brough fills the time between scenes and with the great many scenes there's quite a bit of music needed, despite the relatively zippy scenery movement.

Sadly this is a bad play (might make a better film) given the full whack treatment by the National Theatre. Elements work but after the attempted suicide scene the whole piece just kind of fizzles out for the last twenty minutes, meandering to the less than affecting conclusion. A good showing from Manville and Rooper raises the quality a little and the staging is never less than competent but it's all in vain. Without any focus and no one to really care about, the whole evening feels wasted. Ultimately I left the theatre struggling to work out what the actual point of the play was. I applaud the cast for stoutly battling through this, but it was hardly worth the effort. Hardly the disaster that Fram was, but still not much better.

Hänsel und Gretel (Glyndebourne Opera)

Glyndebourne's new production of Hänsel und Gretel is a visual treat served with a side of sumptuous singing. From the very start the staging is witty and clean with some delightful sets and colourful characterisation, but although it makes for a fun evening (and it's a seriously fun one), it perhaps lacks a great deal of the impact that would elevate it from entertaining to something special.

The lead singers are particularly strong. Adriana Kučerová looks and acts a petulant girl excellently and she adds to this a strong, clear soprano voice. The staging goes to excessive lengths in the opening act to show just how young and excitable she is (throwing pillows and jumping around) but it pays off in the later acts. Jennifer Holloway makes for an impressively gangly Hänsel (I'd almost have believed she was actually a boy) and makes a lovely noise but her mezzo is of only middling strength, occasionally being washed out by the brightness of Kučerová. Irmgard Vilsmaier looks the part of the overbearing mother (with a slight Brunnhilda quality), sang securely and emotively but her acting was overly histrionic. Klaus Kuttler has a tidy high baritone voice and managed to derive something from the rather unrewarding part of the father. His drunken entry in Act I was maybe a little pantomime for my tastes but he performed it with energy and it rapidly enlivened the action after the mother's more inward aria. Wolfgang Ablinger-Sperrhacke is clearly enjoying himself as a drag queen Witch. It's not a performance of much menace and the half naked costume is more than a little vulgar but in the context of the staging, it works. His voice is solid if unremarkable but his overall performance is hugely effective. The two smaller roles are much more weakly sung. I could hardly hear Amy Freston's Sandman and Malin Christensson's Dew Fairy (also a seriously unattractive costume) was not overly sure of her pitch and lacked volume.

The production is both decent and a little disappointing. As light entertainment this is brilliant the sets are attractive and the staging heavy on comedy. The lighting is wonderfully evocative especially in the forest. The Witch's Ride Interlude has a very witty projection to accompany it but like almost everything else in this staging it's there for an easy laugh not long term impact. Laurent Pelly has created an efficient and inventive production but it lacks clear overall vision. The sets seem to have a sort of conservation/recycling theme: the opening house a cardboard box, the forest strewn with plastic bags and the Witch's a house an excessive supermarket of sweets but it's not overly clear what the message is. The angels that protect Hänsel and Gretel are children dressed in white who run about aimlessly, this makes for a pretty stage image but the real point of them eludes me (whatever ideas I come up with, few seem to sit well with the conservation elements). Little is made of the potential poverty/wealth conflict, which you'd think could be a gold mine at a place like Glyndebourne. It's not a bad production as such in fact it's a pretty good one, entirely competent and pleasant, but just lacks edge.

The London Philharmonic under Kazushi Ono produce a reading of the score that excelled in every way. The swells during the big Wagnerian passages balanced by the delicate, rhythmic sections such as the Act II prayer. It's the strong performances that really make the evening take off and whilst I don't see the production as particularly strong it's no turkey either with inventive sets and staging. A very fine evenings entertainment, just don't expect much more.

The Bostridge Songbook (Snape Proms)

Let me start by saying that I think Ian Bostridge is one of the finest vocalists on the planet. He's pretty much the reason I stayed in Aldeburgh so long. However he has a very distinctive voice and stage manner. When I think of Cole Porter and Noel Coward I think of effortlessly charming gentlemen dancing through life with luscious blonds. Insert Bostridge into this picture and the result is a bizarre juxtaposition with unfortunately dull results.

Throughout Bostridge looked deeply uncomfortable. Leaning on the piano like it was the only thing keeping him alive, dancing through life this was not. Ignoring his incredibly stiff movements his voice wasn't well suited to the music either. His pitch is flawless but the same couldn't be said of anything else about his performance. Peculiarly, his diction was distinctly muddy, he's usually better than most singers, which served only to make his performance less compelling. The easy wit that's so inherent in the incredible lyrics didn't come over easily. "Something to do with Spring" almost clicked, but "Every Time We Say Goodbye" was just dull when it should evoke so much more. The Kurt Weill was a little better, the angst at least was fairly evident and maybe just a little menace, but the Ballad of Mac the Knife still didn't quite take flight. The funniest moment in the evening came from a silly decision to make Bostridge open a bottle of champagne on stage. A hugely problematic procedure involving fluid going everywhere but in the glass (when he finally got to the pouring, he poured too fast and it frothed over). Noel Coward must be rolling in his grave.

His accomplice in this little misadventure was Sophie Daneman who was certainly the better of the two. She looked the part and had at least a degree of charisma but still failed to find the humour in most of the songs. She brought about the highlight of the evening in "If Love Were All" but even that lacked the soul it could and should have. She struggled on gamely though and attempted to build a bit of chemistry with Bostridge although none came. Easily the performer of the evening was Julius Drake on the piano who managed to bring a bit of flair to proceedings. He accompanied well, attempting to inject a bit of life to songs that Bostridge seemed to be burying.

As an evening's light entertainment this was hugely disappointing. Lacking character and wit these songs just aren't that interesting and failing to project words in a hall like the Snape Maltings is frankly criminal. I look forward to Bostridge singing Don Ottavio in a couple of weeks but I'll be expunging this performance from my mind. It was a flat evening, virtually devoid of fun.

Julie Fowlis (Snape Proms)

Being stuck in a place like Aldeburgh does rather limit ones evening activities. Once it's too dark for golf, my evening more or less boils down to drifting into a pub or turning up at the Snape Maltings. This hardly makes for a well rounded existence but it does have the benefit of pushing me towards seeing things I'd never normally look at twice. There's only one decent venue, so anything that sounds even remotely interesting I'm willing to give a go. In London this never happens, there's just too much on but, here I've already discovered a brilliant comedian I'd never otherwise have seen. Now, I've heard Julie Fowlis. If you'd told me last week I'd have loved a two hour set sung entirely in Scottish Gaelic, I'd have laughed. Yesterday, I did just that.

Fowlis sings exclusively in Gaelic. The result of this is that every song has an unpronounceable title (near impossible to type as well) and the lyrics are entirely incomprehensible. It hardly matters. Fowlis often gave brief overviews of the content in her delicious lilting accent but even these weren't entirely necessary. Her voice conveys far more meaning than any language could. Haunting in the sadder passages, light and breezy in the happy, constantly rhythmic. She's no slouch with an instrument in her hand either managing to make even the bagpipe sound vaguely pleasant and excelling with the Irish whistle.

She's brilliantly supported by her band comprising Eamon Dooley, Tony Byrne and Duncan Chisholm. There were a couple of instrumental tracks which were played with great love. Byrne's guitar solo was a little long but I only drifted a little towards it's conclusion. Chisholm on the fiddle was particularly exciting and they contributed to the evening with some hysterical anecdotes (except Byrne who wasn't allowed a microphone because "he keeps cursing").

A novel evening but one I'd happily repeat (and will since she's turning up at the Royal Festival Hall in December). You don't here full programmes in Scottish Gaelic everyday. Fowlis has a wonderous voice and a superb band. All in all a brilliant evening.

Tim Minchin (Snape Proms)

Away from hectic London, I'm sunning myself in the currently less than sunny but ever lovely Aldeburgh. A place without much of a nightlife (in fact, zero nightlife) but a concert hall, the Snape Maltings, with a very impressive pedigree. It's normally a purely classical venue but somehow Tim Minchin got booked, and I'm jolly glad he was.

Descending from his run at Edinburgh to a venue the like of which I suspect he's never played before, Minchin took everything in his stride. The audience was younger than Aldeburgh average falling around the 55 year old mark. That was mostly because the regular attendees seemed to have brought their grandchildren. Which wasn't exactly ideal either. Minchin is hardly the most controversial of comedians but he doesn't beat around the bush and this was certainly radical for large tranches of the audience. Personally, I don't think I've ever come across a comedian I've found both hysterical and so consistently thought provoking.

His act, which I'm fairly sure was an extended version of his latest Edinburgh show "Ready For This?", is essentially music based (hence his booking at the Aldeburgh Proms) and he mixes a wide variety of styles: a spoof RnB song, pastiche Rock number and heady nine minute "beat poem", all make appearances. If he's not the finest pianist, he's a dab hand but probably the weakest who'll be appearing on the Snape stage this decade, he makes up for it with a surprisingly solid voice and exceptionally clever lyrics. Part of his opening salvo of songs had a near perfect punch when the letters "ER GG NI" were revealed to be an anagram of an "offensive" word I hadn't even considered. "Canvas Bags" is a classic and "If I Didn't Have You" a wonderful example of subverting an audiences expectations to make a point and get laughs. It wasn't all perfect, the anthem for Palestinian peace was long and not terribly funny beyond the first gag (it is pretty much the same line over and over again), but this was a show of few misses and loads of hits. Even when the jokes weren't brilliant, Minchin has tremendous charisma and judged the audience well, improvising over bits that clearly weren't designed for an audience of elderly sober people.

A harder gig there couldn't be, but by the finale the audience was well and truly won over. Dare I say it, I almost had a tear in my eye at the end of his closing song about going home at Christmas. His usual cynical punch line never came, it was perfectly judged poignancy. I can't imagine he's every persons cup of tea but his fusion of music, comedy and wordplay could have been written for me and to top it off he doesn't exude the sort of arrogance that can be so distancing. Really quite brilliant.

BBC Proms, No. 41 2008

A feast of Handel but those without baroque stamina need not apply. Handel's "Belshazzar" makes for a very long evening, over three hours with only one short interval. I must confess I rather wussed out and actually bought a seat, my spine might still be young but it still struggles after three straight hours of standing. Safely ensconced in my seat however this was a magical evening with just one disappointment in the title role.

I've heard Paul Groves a couple of times before (Only one since I started this) and I considered him a solid but unremarkable tenor. As Belshazzar, he was woeful. His music has him running up and down scales at blistering speed but Groves just didn't have it. The semi quaver is clearly not his best friend. He added to this vocal insecurity, terrible posture and peculiar head movements. It was a real pity as everyone else was on top form. Robert Gleadow isn't the most exciting singer but he has a pleasant sonorous voice and he made something of his small part. Iestyn Davies lacks the presence of some singers but he has crystal clear tone and admirable characterisation. The same cannot be said of Bejun Mehta who dominates proceedings brilliantly. Making a countertenor voice sound imposing takes real effort and Mehta is one the few I've ever heard who can do it. He looks and sounds like he's enjoying himself which makes a real impression and serves only to enhance his character. The only female singer was Rosemary Joshua but to my mind her music is the most interesting and she sang it with great control. This sort of work can feel clinical rather than emotive but she conjured up a vast wealth of emotions. In possibly the least surprising event of the evening the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment under Charles Mackerras were absolutely stunning. They really are some of the best in the world.

Long Handel Oratorios aren't for everyone, but assuming three hours plus of Baroque music sounds good to you, you won't find much better. Pity about Groves but it hardly mattered when everyone else was quite so brilliant.

The Threepenny Ring Cycle

"The Threepenny Ring Cycle" by Les Grooms started badly. I was led to my seat, being young this meant the floor (not even the advertised cushions), by a man who gave me a quick heads up on what Wagner's Ring Cycle is all about (Apparently not everyone knows the Ring in and out, not sure who this everyone is however). This charming Frenchman basically told the four of us that it was incredibly boring so they've cut it down to size. Hence forth I considered him considerably less charming, even if "99.9% of the world is allergic" to this music as the programme idiotically states, I at least like everything about the Ring. The tent itself was a daft creation. If one wants to stage outdoor theatre this time of the year, and the National Theatre is very experienced at this sort of thing, rain proofing might be sensible (just maybe). If it started raining the audience was gonna get soaked and umbrellas couldn't have been used in the enclosed space (At least one performance was canceled owing to rain). I was all but ready to leave before it even started. Thankfully I stayed because no matter what the introductory man said it was clear the company loved Wagner's music and if not a great recreation of it, this was at least a worthy homage to the great mans work.

Much of the performance's charm comes from its use of the basics. The Rhine was simply a bit of smoke and a single blue ribbon. Valhalla a box with some silver foil and a little model castle on top. Lighting is pretty limited so they made members of the audience point torches as moving spots (one of which was expertly handled by an amused looking Nick Hytner). The entire production is devoid of flashy tricks and is all the better for it, it's the subtle use of puppets and props that's so effective. That's not to say the piece doesn't have problems. Despite reducing a constantly riveting sixteen hour work (apart from maybe Act I of Siegfried) down to a mere eighty minutes, the production still has major longueurs. The constant reminder of how far into the music we've got, "14 hours have passed", started amusingly but didn't sustain. In fact a great deal of the comedy derived from the reduction didn't last the duration terribly well. Any substance is largely rubbished, we're told Alberich's giving up love for the ring is terribly important (repeatedly) but the piece never actually shows us why. What's left is fun but forgettable. The plot is also badly laid out, the synopsis in the programme is almost impossible to follow (I know the story very well already and I did a couple of double takes reading it through) and it makes the piece less accessible than it could be.

Much kudos must be given for the way the score has been reduced to a brass band and eighty minutes. Some of the music is played almost straight whilst other bits are mucked around with, a particularly hysterical Ride of the Valkyries. The three singers are hardly world class performers but nor are they amateurish with Christine Oehlkern excellent as effectively all the female parts in the cycle. The band were uniformly excellent playing their instruments from a variety of positions, playing a tuba whilst on your back can't be easy. I usually hate audience participation but this lot made it work (Although I may only be writing this because they didn't pick on me), Siegfried's Funeral March was an absolute hoot with some very confused audience members trying not to laugh and one incredibly short veiled figure (a child) mourning brilliantly

They've taken a masterpiece and turned it into something considerably less than, but in context that's hardly a failure. It's fun inventive theatre that creates something from very little. Even the terrible tent reveals itself to have a point when it is collapsed during the finale, possibly the most intelligent bit of staging in the whole eighty minutes. I can't say this made me look at the Ring Cycle in a new light but it was hardly a bad use of eighty minutes and a tenner.

BBC Proms, No. 38 2008

Prom 38 was a concert that from a purely musical standpoint didn't particularly interest me. The Schoenberg was of interest but the Haydn and Brahms hardly set my heart aflame. What drew me was really the orchestra and conductor, The West-Eastern Divan under Daniel Barenboim. Such a group always guarantee a bit of excitement, the spark coming from the audience if not the orchestra. Here the buzz came from all sides, the players producing some very fine music that made the evening more than just an exotic novelty.

The Haydn showed just how strong this orchestra really is. "Sinfonia Concertante in B flat major, for oboe, bassoon, violin, cello", calls for four soloists (as the title suggests) and all were drawn from the orchestra. Played with the sort of vigour that really makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, this was wonderful stuff. The strings in particular, played with rousing intensity.

The second piece was Schoenberg's "Variations for Orchestra", a difficult bit of music that the Divan played as if it were easy. If I have one complaint it was a slightly incoherent performance, sections sounding separate rather than as part of a whole. This was a minor issue in a performance that really showed the strength of the orchestra throughout the sections. The solos that bounce around the orchestra were universally played strongly, with Barenboim holding the orchestra together, beautifully balanced.

After the interval came the Brahms, "Symphony No.4", a piece that the orchestra simply lapped up. Not a work I find overly exciting but the sheer energy the orchestra produced was irresistible. Here Barenboim really showed his brilliance commanding his forces like a general on the battlefield, allowing them room to play their hearts out but whipping them together when required. The well earned encore was perhaps a little excessive. It takes some nerve to play an encore that requires the reinforcement of the brass section and the overture to "Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg" most certainly does. Indeed the only weakness in this epic finale (I could listen to Wagner all day and night) was the lack of sheer oompf. The brass didn't really have the blast to blow me away but it was still a decent if unremarkable performance.

If I only came for the exotic excitement that comes from a "celebrity" conductor and exotic orchestra, I left feeling I'd heard a world class one. Capable of performing the hardest of music as if it were the easiest and doing it with an intensity and passion that some of the top bill orchestra sometimes lack. Hopefully they'll come again next year because I'm certainly looking forward to their next visit.

[title of show]

"[title of show]", is a daft title that beautifully sums up this delightfully irreverent musical. This is the little show that could. It's an amazingly original show that is very much at home on Broadway, it's a show obsessed with itself, but manages to avoid standard cliché through its rather novel execution.

Hard to describe, this is a musical about people putting on a musical, only the events that occur in the creation of the musical are the actual musical both in the piece and from the audiences perspective. If you're struggling to follow I don't blame you, it makes sense on stage but not on paper. Basically the construction is just a way to string together a massive series of in-jokes. This treads a fine line between intelligent wit and just being smug, but thanks entirely to the down to earth charm of the two male performers (also authors), the show stays very much on the right side of that line. However a vague knowledge both of musical culture and Broadway is really required to get the most out of this. I've got the musical but not the Broadway and plenty flew straight over my head, but I still wholly enjoyed myself which is a testament to the quality of many of the jokes and the performances. The show will never have mass market appeal (as it itself recognises in "nine people's favourite thing") the fact it ever reached Broadway is remarkable. (the same could be said of Xanadu however).

A lot hangs on the charm of the performers and all four are great everyday people who you feel just stumbled onto the stage. Hunter Bell doesn't have the appearance of an archetypal musical star but he's got a friendly feel to him that is instantly appealing. Jeff Bowen is closer to standard Broadway fare but has a perfect voice and his dialogue with Bell feels entirely natural, probably because it is. The leading pair are helped out by some friends Heidi Blickenstaff and Susan Blackwell. Blickenstaff is easy on the eyes although doesn't have the traditional Broadway build and she has comfortably the best vocals in the cast. Blackwell doesn't look traditionally Broadway in any way and nor does she sing particularly well a fact often picked up by the show but she's a natural comedienne. This isn't a standard musical and it has a very non-standard cast to match.

A show of this nature could very easily stray into smug dreariness with all the self referential jokes (and even self referential jokes about just how self referential the show is, if that makes any sense) but the material is cleverer than just bad puns and the cast cleverer still. A show like few others I've seen and sadly I suspect anyone back in Blighty who wants to see it is going to have to visit New York and quite soon. Reaching Broadway is one thing but staying there is quite another. If you can, this is well worth a visit and easily deserves a place amongst the blockbuster musicals that surround it.

La Clemenza di Tito (Mostly Mozart)

My little New York trip was somewhat badly timed in that the Metropolitan Opera is completely shut making opera hard to come by. To break up the musicals (five in four days is heavy even by my standards) I did find one little concert performance of " La Clemenza di Tito". The only slight hitch was that the performance, at a rather lovely theatre called the Rose Theatre (part of, but seperate from, the Lincoln Centre), was by the "Orchestra of the Age of the Enlightenment" under Edward Gardner and the singers effectively an English National Opera home team. I went anyway but New York felt like a stupidly long way to go, to hear an almost entirely English bunch.

It was a pure concert performance apart from Toby Spence entering morosely a couple of times and one moment where he turned a chair around aggressively. Otherwise it was pretty much standard form as concert performances go with some slightly elliptical chair positioning to liven things up. So it was all about the sound, and luckily it was a damn pleasant one. Age of the Enlightenment create a noise like few other orchestras and balanced well in the decent acoustic (if slightly expansive), the woodwind were particularly strong and in a rare event the oboe sounded absolutely stunning.

The voices were solid across the board. Spence in the title role was unremarkable, breathy in places and in Act I didn't manage much character but he grew into the part in the second producing a more fluent performance, if still a little dull. Matthew Rose, the other male member of the cast, was more solid vocally. In fact, rock solid, unimpeachably so, but his big Act II aria "Tardi s'avvede" lacked emotion which was disappointing in an otherwise faultless performance. Alice Coote provided the driving force throughout the performance. The only performer to stretch far beyond just singing the right notes to actually creating a character. Her coloratura was a little smudged at times but she sounded fantastic, full of life and flavour. I hadn't come across Hillevi Martinpelto before and I'd now very much like to hear her again. Not much character but a lovely full soprano voice, particularly radiant in the upper reaches.

It might have been a long way to come to hear Brits but it wasn't exactly a trial. An excellent performance that I'd happily hear again. Coote should be a much bigger star than she currently is but for now, the precious few who know what a good thing she is can enjoy her voice for everything it is.

Xanadu

"This is like children's theatre for forty year old gay men", so proclaims Whoopi Goldberg only half jokingly during "Xanadu" possibly the most terrible show I've ever seen. However, with some originality (for a mainstream musical), it's a show that knows it's rubbish and revels in it. There are far too many musicals based on hit films, this is one of the first to be based on an abysmal one.

The singing is better than the show deserves. Kerry Butler has a fantastic voice and manages almost everything on roller skates (to add to the "fun" it's about a roller disco) which is pretty impressive. Cheyenne Jackson plays his role as though stoned (continuously) and he too is a decent singer. Whoopi Goldberg is headlining the cast, for obvious reasons, and she's given many of the funniest lines but her role is quite small and her qualities aren't really needed. Mary Testa was ill so her role was played by Andre Ward (a man). He was great fun and only added to the immensely camp feel of the whole show.

This self deprecating, dirty humour might be original on Broadway but in Britain we'd usually call this stuff pantomime. Xanadu just throws the more child friendly elements away and focuses purely on cross-dressing and filthy jokes (it also isn't Christmas currently). Sadly, as with pantomime, a huge portion of the jokes are aimed at those in the know and having never seen the original film and not being particularly up on Broadway self obsession, plenty flew straight over my head. Bits are very funny but the show never really flows because every scene is ripped to shreds soon after it's setup.

For the right viewer, quite possibly the forty year old man with an Olivia Newton John penchant, this is probably brilliant but for everyone else it's a just a bit peculiar. It was seldom boring but there wasn't much point either and I came out scratching my head. It wasn't like I didn't enjoy myself, but the show lacks the feelgood factor of most lightweight musicals and I'm struggling to see myself recommending this to anyone I know. If you hear the word Xanadu and think..."what a terrible film, I'd love to see that lampooned", (someone might...I guess) then this is probably for you. I'm just not that guy.

Young Frankenstein

After the unexpected brilliance of "Legally Blonde", Mel Brooks's "Young Frankenstein" had a difficult task of entertaining me. It has a similar pedigree, based on a hit film (slightly more cult in this case) and a top notch cast and creatives behind it. However unlike "Blonde", this feels like all the right ingredients went in but somewhere along the line everything became overly manufactured. Where's the love? A show with all the flashiness but none of the heart.

Coming from Mel Brooks it's going to be at least a little funny, and it is. Gently funny though seldom hysterical. The scene with the Hermit is a hoot and "Deep Love" is the kind of song that will fly over the heads of children but is utterly hysterical for adults. Yet for every hit there are lots of misses. "Please don't touch me" is only mildly amusing and it's a very, very long scene. It also lacks the big showstopper that "The Producers" had in "Springtime for Hitler". "Puttin' on the Ritz" is the closest this show gets and apart from one neat trick with a strobe light it's neither that spectacular nor very funny. Spectacle is not something the show is short of when it comes to the set though. Over the course of the show a dozen different locations are fully evoked through enormous sets that fly in and out from all angles. The creation of the monster is a huge pyrotechnic laden affair.

Strip all the flash away and you'll soon noticed there's not much left. The plot is merely a device that carries the songs and they aren't particularly good. The music isn't bad but I'm finding it hard to select a single song I can actually remember the tune to, or even how it vaguely sounded. The Lyrics yes, but nothing approaching a melody. To give a bit of context (and perspective), I still can't get "Oh My God You Guys" (from "Blonde") out of my head and to first appearances that's the silliest, fluffiest song you could imagine. Yet if you asked me how "Roll in the Hay" went...well it had a neat bit of projection during it. To give a bit more context, I can still rattle off most of "The Producers", although I haven't seen or heard anything relating to that show in a long time (Keep it Light, Keep it Bright, Keep it Gay... and so forth).

What's more surprising is what a crack cast is wasted. Roger Bart is both a very funny guy and a solid singer but neither is shown terribly well here. It's not his fault, he does pretty well with distinctly average material but it is depressingly just that, average. Christopher Fitzgerald is served better as Igor, he produces more consistant laughs than anyone else. It's a role that brings a few easy visual laughs but he manages manages more than that. Megan Mullally has a great set of pipes but wasn't funny. Kelly Sullivan is mostly there for some eye candy but she's a fine singer and plays the dumb blonde with aplomb. Fred Applegate really sums up the entire evening, he can sing well and for the scene as the Hermit he's absolutely brillaint but he spends the vast majority of the musical being incredibly unfunny as the leader of the town.

Following "The Producers" I'll put money on the producers of this show feeling like they had a guaranteed hit on their hands. Somewhere along the line something went terribly wrong. Despite the incredible sets and effects, impressive cast list and talented creative team, this is a dud of a show. There's no warmth, no feeling. Beyond the odd gag, there's very little of interest once the next set has slickly arrived. Disappointing.

Legally Blonde - The Musical

Like...Oh my god. This is like...totally rad. Ok, enough of that. A show like Legally Blonde has no right to be anything other than rubbish. The campest piece of theatre I've ever seen (seriously, no exceptions), more pink than you can even imagine. Fluffy, opulent sets and costumes that belong only in musical theatre. Yet it's also one of the most entertaining musicals I've seen in a good while, and manages more than a modicum of emotion. I found myself rooting for Elle far beyond what I'd consider normal. Like the film, this is so much better than it should be.

Let's be clear, this isn't meaningful stuff. The story is signposted from the very start. You won't find any shocks here, the right girl ends up with the right guy and the bad bloke loses. The staging is far from original. In fact it's entirely derivative but in an utterly seductive way. A bit like High School Musical (much better though), it finds a niche in clean, easy fun. The sets are spectacular in the very best way, every scene flows beautifully thanks to some incredible stage mechanics (I shudder to think what this cost). The designs are very attractive, the jail cell backdrop could easily find it's way into a decent "Fidelio", and varied throughout. The music is lightweight but catchy. "Oh my God You Guys" has a hummable hook and "Gay or European" is hysterical and fires a note of satire far beyond what you'd expect from a show of this nature ("Depending on the time of day, the French go either way" must be one of the funniest lines in all musicals). The choreography doesn't offer anything new (not that I was expecting it to) but the impressive cast are more than capable, and a couple of the dance numbers come off really well.

The cast are pretty solid in most cases. Bailey Hanks (who was apparently picked on a reality show although I couldn't comment) is a weak vocal link but carries the show impressively for a novice. She's quite the looker (which could be said of most of the female cast) but she's also a tidy mover and can belt out a tune or two albeit with quite a few flat notes. Christian Borle is a little bit too nice for reality but this is hardly reality and he has one of the finest voices in the cast, he floats out the high stuff with absolute control. Orfeh (who seems to have no further names) is impeccable as a performer. She blasts out her music and relative to the piece manages to create a nearly three dimensional character. Her bend and snap wasn't particularly seductive but one can't have everything. The reintroduction of the the sorority girls as a "Greek Chorus" (it's a tragedy we're told when the "right but plainly wrong" guy goes for the preppy girl), is a clever decision as it means we never lose Elle's three friends who are easy on the eye and ear. Further fun is provided by the two dogs in the cast. Better behaved animals you couldn't wish for, one of them even barks on cue and there was no defecating anywhere (some spitting at the orchestra).

If you'd told me at the start of today that I was going to think this show was brilliant, I'd have laughed at you. But I am more than happy to say that and more. For pure entertainment, few shows can match this. It's undeniably aimed at a female audience (the hunky delivery man was a sight gag I really struggled to find funny) but there's plenty here for everyone who's willing to leave most of their brain at the door. A London transfer is happening next year and I'll be first in line for some tickets. A better night out, you'll struggle to find.

Gypsy

"Gypsy" has more hype surrounding it than any other show I can think of. Patti LuPone entered the Tony awards virtually guaranteed the top prize. Everyone has been raving about just how brilliant this show is. Well regardless of the hype this is a turkey of a show, a self-indulgent load of claptrap that has found an audience happy to indulge its illusions of greatness. Like Rose herself, the publicity seems to have self fulfilled to the point that everyone thinks that they're watching something very different to what they really are.

Let's start with the most basic problem of all. LuPone can't sing the role. Her voice is distinctive which is a plus but her pitch is wavery at best and her register shifting uncomfortable. Her accent mangles her vowels and frankly can sound deeply unpleasant in places. Her performance is big and brassy but shows zero depth. It's all broad gestures and shouting. What's worst, is at times it was hard to tell exactly who we were watching, LuPone or the character she's supposed to be playing. She dominates proceedings but thankfully the true performances shine through. Laura Benanti holds the audience in the palm of her hands, whether delivering the delicate "Little Lamb" or being sexy as hell for "The Strip". Her voice has a real star quality and she looks a million dollars. Boyd Gaines doesn't make much of his role in the first half but he comes into his own in the second and displays a solid, if unremarkable, voice. In a disturbing display of skill, Sami Gayle (who looks about ten but must be older since she goes en pointe with alarming regularity) steals every scene she's in. Initially she's the kind of irritating child you just want to hit but her charm made her impossible to hate and her sheer dancing ability and vocals are astonishing.

The staging is efficient but unexceptional. The band looks fantastic onstage but their visual is underused, only appearing briefly a couple of times in the three hour running time. The sets are practical but don't really go beyond just setting each scene. The crumbling proscenium arch is the most interesting element, but even that is bargain basement imagery. The choreography was originally by Jerome Robbins but there is surprisingly little dancing and beyond a few Robbin's style arms, you'd be hard pushed to identify it as him. Considering the enormous cast, there's very rarely many people on stage and watching the show it's difficult to imagine the cast as being more than a dozen or so (in reality, more than double that). The redeeming feature of the show is the music which is very appealing, and very well played by the large band. The overture was almost worth the price of entry.

I'm not sure which wire got crossed and where along the line this was marked out as a fantastic show. Even if the style is completely to your taste and I'm more than happy to admit this is hardly my favourite style of musical, LuPone's performance is so distinctly average, in fact below average, and the staging so rudimentary that I'm struggling to see the appeal. A London transfer has been rumoured but I feel desperately sorry for which ever producer picks this show up. Broadway might be happy to indulge a star pandering for applause, I doubt the West End (where LuPone is much less well known) will be so accomodating.