Theatre Review: Man To Man - Everyman Theatre, Liverpool

Image Source: Everyman Theatre

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Drama
Date: October 25 2017
Location: Everyman Theatre, Liverpool

Man to Man is a one-woman-show that unites gender bending with Nazi Germany, complete with inexplicable and deeply misplaced Scottish accents. Seriously. That might sound like a brilliantly bonkers combination, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

This is the tale of a woman who adopts her husband’s identity after he dies in order to step into his shoes in the workplace and survive Nazi Germany. But the plot doesn’t really stand up to scrutiny; as if nobody in her husband’s workplace is going to notice his newly-feminine curves and edges, the lack of Adam’s apple or five o’clock shadow.

Even Maggie Bain, protagonist Ella’s, best Groundskeeper Willie impression still manages sounds like an unmistakably female Glaswegian trade unionist or a female character from Rab C. Nesbitt, and that’s not to detract from the talent of the one-woman in question.

Maggie Bain puts in an excellently charismatic performance, complete with the previously referred to unexplained Scottish accent. At times, the impact of the performance was really powerful. You come away from it with a sense of having delved deep into the psyche of a mind walking the plank between sanity and insanity.

But the play fails to address the stresses and hardships faced by people who identity as transgender; the protagonist never does identify as transgender, though for all intents and purposes she might as well be. There is a real sense of claustrophobic and isolation that permeates throughout this production courtesy of the minimalist set comprised of single bed and armchair.

Apparently, the play is to translate to New York; that seems a rather undeserved milestone to have accomplished with this dry and lacklustre production. This is a production that hinges heart and soul on the heavy shoulders of the sole performer.

Bain’s is an excellent performance that resuscitates and breathes life into a stale and uninspiring script, a script which says nothing new and has nothing new or interesting to say in respect of an already widely dramatized era in history. It elevates the play from below average to just plain average.

I was bored senseless throughout. Unless you were an enemy of mine, I wouldn’t recommend it.

Overall Rating: 3/10 - Flawed

Theatre Review: Golem - Playhouse Theatre, Liverpool

Image Source:
Wirral Globe

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Comedy
Date: October 18 2017
Location: Playhouse Theatre, Liverpool

I started off my usual cynical self. After all, dystopian has been done to death. I was expecting the-pseudo Hunger Games on stage. 1984 revisited. But I quickly learned to abandon my prejudices and came to love what was on offer.

Let there be no doubt: Golem is utterly bonkers. It is cracked. Truly nuts. 1927, the theatre company responsible for the production, has achieved something truly tremendous.

We start out in a dystopian age (the exact era is not specified) in which the protagonist Robert feigns limp rebellion by participating in the garage band Annie and The Underdogs, whose contribution to music merely amounts to noise and vacuous hand gestures.

Out of intrigue, he purchases a Golem from a fledgling wheeler-dealer, Golem being an animated clay playmate who obeys your every order. Or so it seems.

Golem starts out as a dutiful, docile being. Blindly compliant. Obedient to its owner. But it soon acquires a mind of its own and becomes the dominant partner in the relationship, dishing out orders and suggestions. Taking over every task and emasculating those around it by rendering their contribution to the community obsolete.

The set design is truly astonishing. The graphics are incredible; set design on ketamine. And the way the actors interact with the constantly evolving set is brilliant.

I would recommend Golem to anybody with an open mind. And at a tight 90 minutes, it manages to be short and concise, never outstaying its welcome.

Overall Rating: 8.5/10 - Excellent

Theatre Review: Rita, Sue and Bob Too - Playhouse Theatre, Liverpool

Image Source: Liverpool Echo

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Comedy Drama
Date: October 10 2017
Location: Playhouse Theatre, Liverpool

What is there to say about Rita, Sue and Bob Too? It is the most unpretentious of beasts, if you care to be blunt about it.

Uninhibited by inhibitions and hard-faced with bare-faced cheek, this show was full frontal - and that’s not a reference to the naked arse shots that were full and prominent. The producers, Out of Joint, certainly know how to put on a show.

James Atherton, of prior Hollyoaks fame, was excellent as the habitually sleazy Bob. What ought to have been a black and white moral issue about consent and sexual maturity was coloured in heavy with multi-coloured felt tip and highlighted with permanent marker.

You could not stencil Bob with any ill intention; this was merely a man who was prisoner to his sexual desires and intense desire for regular sexual activity. You never feel any resentment or contempt for him, despite his obvious moral failings. It is a testament to Atherton’s skill as an actor that he manages to paint Bob as a lovable rogue.

This was a production that easily managed to convey a very complex sexual situation in a palatable, easily relatable manner. It is almost impossible to feel judgement or disdain for the three major characters, even though Bob’s hard-done-by wife features and makes an attempt to tug on the heart strings.

Rita, Sue and Bob Too is a riot from start to finish. An all Northern cast in their element on a Northern stage in front of a Northern audience, and to top it off, it comes complete with an excellent 80s soundtrack. There’s Soft Cell, Bowie, Duran Duran, The Human League. Completely fitting for a production that is gloriously of the 80s, in all its inoffensive political incorrectness.

Summing it up, this is an ace production with real heart and real spirit.

Overall Rating: 7.5/10 - Good

Theatre Review: The Tin Drum

Image Source: Everyman
Theatre (Photograph by
Steve Tanner)

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Musical
Date: October 3 2017
Location: Everyman Theatre, Liverpool

Based on a 1959 novel by Gunter Grass and 1979 Academy Award-winning foreign language film of the same name, Kneehigh’s The Tin Drum is nothing short of immensely impressive.

The Tin Drum follows Oskar, the rather obnoxious offspring of a greengrocer in the WWII era who, repelled by his predetermined fate to wind up a greengrocer like his alleged father, resolves never to grow old. He prefers to remain in his perpetual infancy, thinking himself to be superior to the adults around him.

Oskar, inflicted with delusions and pretentious of grandeur, makes his presence felt by banging his tin drum, the sound of which can shatter glass. He bangs his drum against elders whom he presumes to know better than. He never shies away from making himself known. On stage, he manifests in the form of a unique puppet, operated and voice by different members of the cast.

By opting to have the protagonist played by a puppet, the producers and directors abandon the conventional in favour of the insightful and the inventive. But Oskar is as cynical as he is superior. Having different actors voice him, far from creating a jumbled mess, illuminated the character as an omnipresent presence. The score is raucous - a sublime mesh of 80s electro. It may have deviated from the play’s setting, but it was incredibly infectious in doing so.

And nobody could have begrudged how well the music fit the setting: Nazis with a 1980s twang. The far right from left field. This was a well-conceived adaptation of a difficult subject matter, brought to life by a tight-knit, at times androgynous cast. The direction was simply exceptional. And the whole thing was expertly delivered, and entirely in song.

Overall Rating: 9/10 - Outstanding

Theatre Review: The Suitcase

Image Source: Everyman Theatre

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Drama
Date: October 4 2017
Location: Playhouse Theatre, Liverpool

The Suitcase comes all the way to the UK courtesy of the Market Theatre, Johannesburg. Quite how it managed to find its way all the way to these shores I’ll never quite understand.

The scope of said journey implies that there is something grand and magical about this production, something that justifies bringing it all the way to the UK for theatregoers to absorb.

Exceptional? It was not. In fact, it could barely aspire to be average.

In spite of the Apartheid era South Africa setting and the rich landscape that the set design could possibly exploit, The Suitcase is nothing but a rainbow of grey. Its set was basic, bland and unimaginative.

To its credit, the singing was exceptional, although proceedings were inhibited by the frequent use of obscure African language within the script. This meant that it was sometimes hard to follow the point of any one scene.

But the problem with The Suitcase is that it doesn’t really have a plot. There is a man looking for work and then towards the end somebody gives him a suitcase. There isn’t much to get your teeth into.

The Suitcase, despite the title, is in fact not about a suitcase. In fact, the suitcase plays a bit part towards the end of the production. The tone was quite often sombre. Rather than a tale about a suitcase, or anything remotely to do with a suitcase, this is primarily a tale about the perils and oppression of unemployment.

A tale about a man (Timi, the protagonist) desperately scouring the city looking for work in order to provide for his wife and pending child. Every humane person can relate to that. But there was no climax; only a massive anticlimax relating to the contents of the fabled suitcase.

This is a play that, although deficient in spark, was not to be found lacking in heart. The performers are to be commended, but the content was thin and wanting. I couldn’t wait for it to end.

Overall Rating: 4/10 - Disappointing

Cilla

Image Source: ATG

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Musical
Genre: Comedy Drama
Date: September 8 2017
Location: Liverpool Empire Theatre

Cilla Black was a real feisty character. Of that, there is no doubt. So I expected nothing less than a grand spectacle from a production depicting her life.

So, please, I urge thee: moderate your expectations before you set sail. For, whilst not quite dismal, Cilla is far from a thriller.

The production is admittedly based on the ITV series of the same name and there was no pretence otherwise. But I was left with the impression that this was a production that had been thrown together without much consideration for how it could illuminate or even elevate an already well-known tale. As unambitious as it was unexceptional.

It was never going to shock, but it could have (had it chosen to) enlightened Cilla's story just that little bit more. This was a production without a voice of its own. A lazy rehash of something already sold to us before.

There was scope for some original musical numbers to pad out the drama and atone for the deficiencies of Cilla's limited back catalogue. Yet, instead, it played it safe with forgettable musical numbers that were nostalgic throwbacks to the sixties. If you love the sixties, then this is a winner, otherwise you're bound to be left with an aching appetite unsatisfied. But the audience clearly loved what was on offer: no doubt Cilla fans and sixties enthusiasts.

But this was a production that didn't know whether it wanted to be a play or a musical. As a drama, it was mediocre; pleasant but conventional. As a musical, it was pitiful and unoriginal, a victim of its inherent lack of aspiration.

I expected a thick and frothing glowing ode to a local legend, but to its credit, the play shies away from making a martyr of the late Cilla.

Kara Lily Hayworth was lovable enough in the lead. And, credit where credit is due, her vocals far eclipsed those of Cilla. The challenge for her was probably not to eclipse Cilla too much. I sensed she had to tone it down, aiming to impress whilst simultaneously aiming to underwhelm out of courtesy for the subject.

From a musical perspective, there was a thin back catalogue of Cilla numbers to choose from. This was an especially glaring obstacle to the show being a success. In fact, the production ends with a random mish-mash musical number of 60s staples that had no relation to the plot or anything that had come before it. It was all a bit random, and exceptionally lazy. A lacklustre gesture to the sixties superfans padding out the audience.

The real story was one of poor Bobby's dogged pursuit and his initially unrequited love; that's what hinged the production together. Bobby was the real heart of Cilla, the hero the audience was routing for. And whilst he eventually gets his girl, Cilla's reciprocation was never really touched upon. One minute it was a no, the next it was a yes. We didn't really get to see their love blossom on stage, a failing on the part of the writer and director.

What we end up with is limp and lightweight interpretation of the Cilla tale. If you are a sixties superfan, you'll think it's great. But nostalgia can be toxic, as I always say. This is a play that relies heavily on nostalgia to make its audience stay the course. Satisfactory, but only just. And Cilla the feisty red-head made into a plain Jane by a pedestrian production.

Overall Rating: 5/10 - Average

The Chemsex Monologues

Image Source: West End Wilma

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Drama
Date: July 21 2017
Location: St Brides Church, Liverpool, England

Chemsex, for those who don't already know, is the practise within the gay community of consuming an indiscriminate amount of drugs whilst engaging in orgies and casual, often reckless sex. It is a burgeoning epidemic and a very real cultural menace.

The venue hosting the event was a church. I can envision scratching your head in disbelief. Yes, a church, but one well-known for its trendy liberal posturings. Before the start of the performance, I scanned my fellow audience members and it soon became apparent.

It instantly became apparent to me that the composition of the audience, or congregation, was decidedly sober and almost businesslike in its demeanour, thrust together, it would seem, by a shared concern for the threats of chemsex and the social fabric of the gay community. I imagined that most of them first read about chemsex in the Guardian or some other trendy publication, gasped in open-mouthed horror and decided there and then that they would take matters into their own hands.

Though the surroundings were open and inviting, the acoustics within the venue were less than friendly and the actor with the difficult task of delivering the inaugural monologue had to persevere through the distracting racket of rainfall, almost biblical in scale, as it thrashed against the church room and left the audience almost incapable to deciphering the content of the monologue being delivered. The actor, to his credit, had to rely solely on his adolescent enthusiasm as he persevered to cut through temperamental rainfall.

The first story delicately conveyed the dangerous journey from awe-soaked first encounters to the reckless hedonism inherent within chemsex cirles. It all seemed so easy. Easy to get involved and even easier to get carried away. It served as a stark warning to those taking note.

The writer was telling us: you might not have come face to face with chemsex but, trust me, it's there lurking beneath the surface.

A second monologue from a female observer served as a real moral voice. Part sociologist, part Stacey Solomon; nonetheless, she was surely a creature of reason. The verdict from her was that chemsex was a selfish beast: excluding women, those who don't participate, and causing those immersed in in to withdraw from the mainstream and become lost in a world of aimlessly over-indulgence and empty excess. In her somewhat satirical sermon, she offered up a shopping list of symptoms synonymous with those consumed in the chemsex scene. Though the focus was always on education over indoctrination, never meandering near anything close to condemnation.

All four monologues touched on widespread casual attitudes to drug use in the gay community; again, raising awareness instead of raising an eyebrow. Geebs, it was suggested, was used as freely and liberally as a heavily-abused bottle of fake tan. As somebody well-placed to comment, it was hard to argue.

Each story was London-centric to its core. Perhaps that's because the Liverpool gay scene has yet to fully succumb to the chemsex culture (or epidemic). So whilst the setting and stories shared were by no means local to the audience, the writer successfully made the stories relevant to the audience and the subject matter familiar and close to home.

The finished product was honest and thoughtful, raising awareness in a way that was upfront but never forceful, at times explicit though always tasteful. Patient, restrained and never sensational.

This was no sensationalist expose like those found in the Daily Mail.

It lay bare the facts. This is chemsex, this is what it is, this is what it causes. Informing, though never advising.

The finished product was peppered with occasional moments of humour, which were absolutely essential. Without this, the experience would have been overwhelmingly bleak. In the absence of humour, the monologues could be better described as eulogies.

The writer and director had obviously worked very hard to educate the audience as much as entertain them. Chemsex was a hitherto little understood issue. The audience could consider itself fully briefed on the matter. No doubt people came away from the performance as concerned as they were curious.

It was up to the audience to decide: do we want to do something about it? Or was this just another night at the theatre?

Only time will tell...

Overall Rating: 7.5/10 - Good

Theatre Review: Horny Handed Tons Of Soil

Image Source: Unity Theatre

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Drama
Date: July 13 2017
Location: Unity Theatre, Liverpool, England

L8, L8. It seems I hardly know thee. Not if Horny Handed Tons of Soil is anything to go by.

Ordinarily, a love story usually takes the form of boy-meets-girl, man-meets-woman, or open-minded individual meets gender neutral individual. Not on this occasion. This performance was a love story between geography and biology. Between reason and nostalgia, or a parable on how one struggles to marry the two.

Here, poetry and documentary unite to create a richly nostalgic tapestry and an ode to times long gone by. The writer is clearly and overwhelmingly punch drunk love with his chosen subject, though he never really explains why and just expects the audience to accept it and agree without question.

But nostalgia can be toxic when left unchecked.

The performance was effectively a one-woman show. The only other character was an umbrella that somehow found itself injected into each and every segment.

Bursts of poetry were punctuated by videos conveying the rampant dilapidation of modern L8. The participants were a right morbid orchestra. Whilst irrefutably tragic, very real and deeply ingrained feelings of helplessness were showcased. The finished project, in all its melancholy molasses, amounted to a damning verdict on the perils of neglect and critical condemnation of the failures in the leadership of successive councils, each as complicit as the one before. This was corporate manslaughter.

It was abundantly clear that these much-lauded coordinates had left behind the days of glory and fallen victim to ignorance and indifference. The participants exhibited only passive despair. One participant suggested L8 could become a ‘world class tourist destination’, betraying delusions of grandeur and a naked sense of entitlement that was hard to justify.

The music, provided by a three-man army, was well-considered, and the sedating sound of trumpets successfully conveyed a sense of longing and aching. Longing for a time long passed, aching for a resurgence in relevance. But alas it all felt in vain.

So what did the audience make of it? They were decidedly divided. Some suggested that those who share a history with L8 would have come away from the performance having felt a deep emotional connection. For them, it really struck a chord. As for the rest of us ...

What was intended as a faithful portrayal of local history often bordered on sheer fiction.

The inevitable impression one is left with is disappointment that the writer never really offers up any substantative explanation of his wide-eyed infatuation with L8. A woefully narrow perspective void of explanation.

If you can sit still for 40 minutes, then it's worth a watch. Though be warned: unless you share a history with L8, you may come away feeling as though you've watched something in a foreign language, so sceptics ought to steer clear.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10 - Okay

Theatre Review: La Cage Aux Folles

Image Source: ATG

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Musical
Genre: Comedy
Date: July 4 2017
Location: Liverpool Empire Theatre

Drag can be fabulously entertaining when done right, and not diminished by indiscriminate references and cheap innuendo. And this was a production that did drag proud. It could easily have played it for simple laughs.

As the first act unfolded, peppered as it was with one visually impressive but largely irrelevant drag routine after another, I got the feeling that this would be a play with no plot. All glitter, no substance. But I was wrong.

The play really comes into its own in the second act. The physical comedy in the scene where Georges tries to teach Albin to act masculine by walking like John Wayne (or Jeremy Clarkson) was comic gold.

Those familiar with The Birdcage won’t have felt let down.

John Partridge was excellent as Albin, in all his effeminate splendour. But there was the matter of his accent, delivering each line with this piercing Lancashire twang as though it was on loan from the Bradford and Bingley, or sponsored by Plus Net Broadband. It reminded me of when Michelle Collins made the jump from EastEnders to Coronation Street, dodgy Blackpool accent in hand (“Leanne, I’m your mam”).

As a play and as a comedy it was great, but as a musical it was desperately lacking in memorable musical numbers, putting aside “I am what I am” which is culturally recognisable in its own right. This was no Chicago. You couldn’t - and wouldn’t - go out and buy the soundtrack. You’d be better off buying Shirley Bassey’s version of “I am what I am” for 99p on iTunes.

The best bit of all was when an elderly man in the audience, complete with walking stick, attempted to storm out but could only hazard a staggard. “I’ve had enough of this”, he said. “This is too much”. I loved it. Nothing was topping that.

There were moral undertones of equality and acceptance, but they were never thrust at the audience. In fact, the sporadic groans and bursts of applause from the audience in support of obvious moral posturings were largely unsolicited. The play was unpretentious and well-delivered and, void of smut, accessible to all ages.

There was a pretentious fellow reviewer sat a few seats away, namedropping Shakespeare and boasting about writing his review. "What is he possibly going to take away form this?" I thought: “The sequins were ethically-sourced and environmentally-friendly”?

If you appreciate unpreachy comedy, dodgy accents and a bit of magic and sparkle, then this comes highly recommended. Just don’t expect a sing-song because this is no Mamma Mia.

Overall Rating: 7.5/10 - Good

Matthew Bourne's The Red Shoes

Image Source: ATG

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Ballet
Genre: Drama
Date: June 27 2017
Location: Liverpool Empire Theatre

A night at the ballet. Sounds grand, doesn’t it? Opulent, even. Like a night at the opera, or a day at the races (Cheltenham, not Aintree obviously.)

If this sounds like your cup of tea or drug of choice, then prepare to be stunned and humbled in equal measure.

As healthily cynical as ever, I sat down at my seat expecting something pretentious and inaccessible.

But my reasoned apprehension melted almost instantly into smithereens.

Far from lofty and remote, it was instantly absorbing.

Though, being honest, I didn’t have a clue what was going on most of the time.

I wasn’t bored, but I was baffled. Dazzled, but baffled. Enraptured, but baffled.

It was hard not to be immensely impressed by the sheer skill and talent on display. I was almost in awe of the performers. Something about it was hypnotic.

The movements and those performing them were seamless and espoused an air of effortlessness, depending on how critical an eye is watching.

Those who opted to pay £1 for opera binoculars were missing out, for it was impossible for focus on any one point on the stage at any one time. Each performer was doing something different and unique all of the time. It is beyond doubt that the talent was of a high calibre. I wanted to fix my eyes on each and every one of them but couldn’t. What could have been messy and blundersome in the wrong shoes unfolded into what was a magnificent mesh of movement. Exceptional.

As for the Red Shoes themselves: as far as I could decipher, they were cursed, or even haunted. Though I must confess, I found it impossible to follow any coherent thread or plot based solely on my perceptions of interpretative dance, however elaborate it may have been. Perhaps that makes me uncultured or uncivilised. That might not be far from the truth.

Even if you come away from the performance with only faint praise, there is no doubt that you will step up out of your chair and give applause for the sheer intricacy and innovation of the set design which was unique from both a visual and a technical perspective.

So if you’re up for it, prepare to be impressed. You don’t even have to know what’s going on. Just sit back, sit still and watch.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10 - Okay

Theatre Review: The Last Five Years

Image Source: Epstein Theatre

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Musical
Genre: Drama
Date: June 15 2017
Location: Epstein Theatre, Liverpool, England

As always, I go into these things with hopes both high and burdened; burdened, I concede, by my own prejudices.

The premise sounded familiar. An actor and a writer fall in and out of love. Their story told from both perspectives. It sounded very La La Land, I sneered, even though the material pre-dates the well-known film.

Then I read that the two leads were a real-life couple. Again, I sneered: "Artists". I thought immediately of how every film George Clooney gets his hands on turns out to be a pious passion piece about some obscure political subject nobody in the mainstream really cares or wants to hear about.

But I like to be proved wrong.

Jamie (Graham Tudour) tells his story from the start, Cathy (Helen Noble) from the end, and eventually they meet in the middle. This was sometimes hard to follow, and I felt that, with a different structure, the finished product could have been better and much more accessible.

The story was entirely in song. To be frank, it was a joy to watch.

You soon get past the syrupy fake American accents and find yourself bowled over by the two leads and their imposing vocal talents which were impressive and to be commended.

Helen Noble, who played Cathy, had killer legs. It was hard not to be distracted, though sometimes I felt that the story behind her narrative wasn't entirely clear. Again, a flawed structure. I criticise, yet what I felt was pure enjoyment from start to finish. Far from perfect, the entire performance was nothing less than immensely infectious. And clocking in at 90 minutes in length (without interval), it amounted to a succinct retelling of love and loss, heartache and pain.

I entered a healthy sceptic, but left with a massive smile (on the inside, at least) and a spring in my step.

The staging and set were minimalist, but used effectively. Regardless, all the attention was on the two actors; the only actors in the performance, I should point out.

And entirely in song? How could one not fall in love. Or at least wobble at the prospect.

The Last Five Years never made it to Broadway, but has done the rounds on the American theatre scene. I felt that the two leads were trying to champion a hitherto un-championed musical that, might otherwise go forgotten and unappreciated. I wish them well because the performance I saw was more than worthy of big audiences and big applause.

Alas, there were no happy ending for the characters on stage, but as a theatregoer, you leave the theatre having been treated to a real gem.

Overall Rating: 7.5/10 - Good

Romeo & Juliet

Image Source: Everyman

Written By: Scott Gunnion

Format: Play
Genre: Comedy
Date: May 31 2017
Location: Everyman Theatre, Liverpool, England

Entering the theatre beset with preconceptions, I feared a word-for-word retread of the great Shakespeare. A loyal adaptation in all its untainted grandeur.

I was wrong. Shockingly wrong.

This was Shakespeare on a mild trip. Tradition and prestige joined in marriage with an air of psychedelia.

Immediately, with the onset of the first scene, wistful cries of "alone, alone, alone, alone" swamped the theatre; a most melancholy musical number that united the audience in a universal quiver.

The Everyman is theatre in the round. This automatically impresses upon one, I felt, an impenetrable sense of magic and awe. It immediately makes things interesting. There was a real buzz in the audience; somewhere in the region of 400 at the most conservative of estimates. Impressive.

A few scenes in, after a somewhat bonkers modern rave scene, I felt the intellectual purists and their jaws become slack and inanimate and then drop to the floor with an animated guffaw as it dawned upon the audience that there was no Juliet, only a Julius in his place. The instinctive cynic in me sniggered when I read about this before the performance.

If the man-on-man aspect was meant to illuminate the play in any way, then I concede that it failed. Not spectacularly though. More of a flatline with a mild thud. There was nothing daring or controversial about it. Something inside me suspected it had probably already been done before.

That importance criticism aside, this was Shakespeare with a modern twist and it was great. Loyal to the subject matter, but not afraid to thrust at the audience with a fresh perspective.

The actor portraying Mercutio excelled, swelling with uninhibited charisma and bombast. Real magnetic talent. At one point, he moons Julius' trusted Nurse. She too was a real scene stealer. Armed with a thick Barbadian accent and plenty of sass, she walks on stage at one point eating a box of fried chicken. Completely irrelevant to the plot, but the audience loved it, and nobody thought to question it because it was great, and when something is great we love it without prejudice.

Comic relief aside, this was all about Romeo, another one who emitted real magnetism. Forget Julius, who was largely - and unfortunately - forgettable. Romeo, on the other hand, sizzled. He commanded every scene and rippled with the promise of a young actor, fresh and ripe and (almost) upon his prime.

The lack of chemistry between the two leads cannot go unmentioned, but other aspects of the performance made up for this failing, examples being the lush kaleidoscope of costumes and playful injection of modern music into proceedings. Back to the negative, I just didn't buy Romeo and Julius as a couple. As an actor, Julius was no match for his on-stage companion.

In short, it was a feast, and a most unexpected one at that.

Bidding his Romeo farewell, Julius muses "for in a minute there are many days". That was not the case in this instance. The minutes melted away effortless. There was no clock watching or checking my phone; my eyes were fixed on the stage and the performance.

I have no reservations in heartily recommending this excellent production that succeeds in making Shakespeare accessible and palatable to the masses.

Overall Rating: 8/10 - Very Good