Review – Ploutos, an Aristophanic comedy ****

Ploutos is the Greek god of wealth. In the play he is personified as a blind man. Our hero, a farmer called Chremylos, and his servant stumble upon him and, after a little light bullying, take him home. Wealth is blind so he can’t discriminate between the deserving and undeserving. But our farmer has other ideas and a visit to a shrine sees Wealth’s sight restored. This occasions a visit from the god of poverty, who advises against Wealth and in favour of learning from hardship. Nevertheless, the miraculous restoration of Wealth’s sight results in a transformation amongst all those visiting the farmer, with good people rewarded and others ridiculed.

This new production by Thiasos theatre company in a new translation by David Wiles is bouncy, energetic and huge fun. The stylised costumes and make up are a real treat, adding humour and a touch of warmth to the characters. And how wonderful to be in a theatre again and hear the band tuning up! Yes, we have real live musicians (many of whom double up as members of the large cast of characters) playing delightful ‘Greek’ music from musical director Manuel Jimenez. For those of us denied our annual pilgrimage to a Greek island this summer, this added another layer of wistful enjoyment to the piece. On top of that there are musical numbers and even some Greek dancing (although no broken plates!).

The performances are big and bold like the costumes and make up. Our narrator is Chremylos’s servant Carion, played by Salv Scarpa. He has an appealing stage presence and brilliant clarity and power in his voice, immediately getting us into the play. Like all the other performers, he uses movement a great deal. This keeps the whole thing feeling alive, vibrant and intimate, despite the cast having to keep back further from the audience than they otherwise might have. Oengus Mac Namara plays both Wealth and Poverty which great gravitas, which Charles Sobryy as Chremylos plays against delightfully, reminiscent of Percy’s relationship with Blackadder.

This large company has made a serious investment in this play and the quality and love they have for the material shines through in the performance. How they make it work financially for a small, socially distanced audience I don’t know, but thanks go to The Space for making this happen and for looking after us so well.

Ploutos is at The Space until Saturday 3rd October, after which you can catch it in Poland!

 

 

Review – It’s beautiful over there ****

Stephanie Greenwood writes and performs this single hander at London’s Tristan Bates Theatre in which she recounts stories of death. That sounds morbid, even grim. But this play is neither. It’s a highly personal piece in which Greenwood has set out to tell us about the life and death by suicide of her dear friend Lindsay. The story is given dramatic energy by her unwillingness to confront this particular death which, despite not being of a relative, is much closer to her than any other. At every point when Lindsay’s story is looming in her rear view mirror, ready to overtake her, Greenwood is diverted off the road and backs up into her own past and sometimes that of her ancestors.

There is an extraordinary tale of her great great grandmother hosting magnificent and opulent balls. In another someone else seems to have been shot in Europe during the war for plotting to sabotage German trains. The first of the play’s stories concerns Greenwood confessing to the conflict she felt as a child when speaking at her grandparents’ funerals. How much was she speaking for them and how much was she doing it because she enjoyed the opportunity to perform?

This conflict does create a problem for the play. We know from the blurb it’s a true story, so Greenwood is genuinely baring her soul to us. At the same time we know it’s also a performance, the spontaneity is rehearsed. She’s a professional performer. How do we know what’s true and what’s just a performance?

Fortunately, though, Greenwood is a compelling stage presence and her nuanced performance is captivating. Hands are carefully placed, a tilt of the hip and she’s instantly a surly thirteen year old. This detail is telling and it shows the insight Greenwood brings to the play as, being the sole performer, she is obviously acutely aware of the scrutiny every part of her will be under. All this is given added impact by thoughtfully effective lighting and sound design which neatly and economically signal where we are in Steph’s life.

Gradually the flashbacks take her to more recent times and then we find out we’re all guests at a party  to celebrate Lindsay. We’re all invited to don party hats and enjoy mini muffins and champagne. But this is all too much for our host. She’s not ready to pretend that we can all carry on as normal and breaks down. We are left feeling awkward wearing our silly hats and holding a plastic champagne glasses.

Ultimately it’s Steph and ourselves we learn about from this piece. The person we learn least about is Lindsay, whose suicide is the catalyst for the play. But what we do learn is that there is something different about the impact of her death compared with others in Steph’s life. The subjects of her other stories are in some way heroic but remote. Lindsay, though, is more real, more current but at the same time more unknown to us.

 

 

Review – Dial M for Murder ****

Dial M for Murder is a classic murder mystery, immortalised in Hitchcock’s film version starring Ray Milland and Grace Kelly. The plot concerns former tennis star Tony Wendice (Tom Chambers) who is secretly aware of the affair his wife Margot (Sally Breton) thinks she has successfully hidden from him for over a year. He blackmails an old school friend with a shady past (Christopher Harper in the first of two roles) into murdering his wife while he is out with her lover, giving him the perfect alibi. The cue for the murderer to strike is arranged to be when Tony phones his wife, luring from her bed to answer so the killer knows when to pounce. It’s at this critical point that the apparently flawless logic of Tony’s plan for the perfect murder collapses.

It’s also from this point the play really takes off. Unlike modern TV examples of the genre, where the body (usually the first of several) makes its appearance within minutes, here there is a long exposition establishing the nature of Tony and Margot’s relationship, the motive for Tony’s desire to murder his wife and the reason he chooses his old school friend to do the deed. So we find ourselves with a murder victim only just by the interval. At times this feels slow despite the cast all bringing great presence to their roles.

The gradual unravelling of Tony’s plan makes a far more interesting second half. It’s also helped enormously by Christopher Harper’s Inspector Hubbard, whom he makes just slightly off centre. This turns a workmanlike character from simply a device to explain what’s happening into a humorously effective commentator.

Tom Chambers is delightfully on the smarmy end of suave as the consummately deceptive and devious husband. And Sally Breton, who we are probably more used to seeing playing for laughs in Not Going Out is both feisty and vulnerable as his wife Margot. As her lover Max, Michael Salami is a strong stage presence.

The single room set is carefully positioned at an angle and comes complete with ceiling – unusual in a theatrical set. Its careful design plays with angles and perspectives to give a perfect view of every part. And moving the action from the 1950s, when the play was written and set, to 1963 allows some design flourishes which separate it from the dour post-war period which might otherwise have left us feeling too distant from it.

This is an effective re-imagining of what is for many a well-known piece thanks to the Hitchcock film. But it succeeds on its own terms, avoiding direct comparison by virtue of the slight time shift and performances which stand in their own right.

Dial M for Murder is at The Orchard Theatre, Dartford until Saturday 1 February and then on tour.

Peter Pan at the Orchard Theatre, Darford ****

Peter Pan always makes for a slightly different sort of panto, the story coming from J.M. Barrie’s stage play and requiring some fairly heavy lifting to turn it into the ‘he’s behind you’ kind of entertainment we expect.

Unlike last year’s Aladdin, which dealt with the plot as almost an afterthought, here the story telling is definitely to the fore. And at the start it moves at quite a pace. No sooner has the show started than Peter Pan himself is flying in and taking the Darling children off to Neverland. There’s not even time to have Wendy sew his shadow on or to meet her parents – so we don’t get the usual trick of the same actor playing Mr Darling and Captain Hook.

In this case our villain is the star attraction in the shape of Steve McFadden, (Eastenders’ Phil Mitchell) who does a fine job, swaggering about the stage in admirable fashion and really giving the character some presence. With no pantomime dame in Peter Pan, the comedy all falls to one person, in this case Andy Ford as Smee. I felt he was slightly at a disadvantage in the plot-heavy first half because the audience had not had enough chance to warm up to the comic tone he was injecting. Sure the jokes were mainly tried and tested panto fodder, but he is a skilled performer and they deserved bigger laughs. Perhaps a comedy set-piece earlier on would have helped. In the second part, though, we spend a lot of the plot waiting for Peter Pan to come and rescue the children from Hook’s Jolly Roger. Quite why he’s taking so long to get there is not clear, but it leaves much more breathing space for Andy Ford and he’s in his element with many opportunities to shine.

John and Michael Darling were great, kept in line by big sister Wendy, convincingly played by Jess Pritchard. Isobel Hathaway was charming on roller skates as Tinker Bell and Tania Newton had great impact as Mimi the Magical Mermaid. Keisha Atwell was delightful and full of smiles as Tiger Lily and Joe Sleight was sprightly and believable in the title role. I must also mention the ensemble who were carefully directed to be always moving, gently creating interesting shapes whenever they were in the background. A nice touch from director and choreographer Barbara Evans.

The stand-out theatrical moment is the arrival of the crocodile. Meanwhile the whole thing came to life thanks to the efforts of the fully rounded sound from the three piece band in the pit – so much better than relying only on a pre-recorded track. Great music and song choices, too.

Overall the tone of the show is very family friendly. There are, of course, a few ‘over the head’ moments for the grown-ups, but what you get here is great story telling for children and a properly theatrical experience which should get them back for more.

Review – The Woman in Black *****

The Orchard Theatre in Dartford has shown perfect timing by booking The Woman in Black for Halloween week.

It’s genuinely spine tingling and properly frightening. But it’s also much more besides. It’s an object lesson in theatrical story telling making brilliant use of the theatre itself to become a key element in the play. At the same time it asks the audience to invest in the piece. Vital elements are there but have to be discovered and put together by us. Our imagination is explicitly called on to fill in the blanks left by a deceptively almost non-existent set. You would be forgiven for not realising this perfect piece of theatre was originally a book. Stephen Mallatrat was asked to adapt Susan Hill’s story to fit a very tight budget and this constraint inspired him to create a truly exceptional theatrical experience.

The pace is gentle to start with. And humorous. Arthur Kipps (Robert Goodale) begins to recount his ghostly tale in an empty theatre, rehearsing for when he is to perform it in front of friends and family. He is not, as is painfully apparent, a performer, so has employed the services of an actor (Daniel Easton) to coach him. Bumbling around and making many false starts, things suddenly drop into place when the actor decides to assume the role of the younger Kipps and has Kipps play all the other characters he meets on his journey to Eel Marsh House, where he is going to wind up the estate of the recently deceased owner, Alice Drablow.

We have train rides, a pony and trap, a graveyard, the fog enshrouded marshes, an eager and loyal dog. All created with a mixture of sound, lighting, a few props and, sometimes, with nothing more than our imagination.

Daniel Easton as the actor is warm and confident. We too feel confident in his presence, making it even more unnerving when he becomes frightened of what he is witnessing. As Arthur Kipps, Robert Goodale shows us a man whose confidence has been destroyed – a grim warning of what may become of our young, confident actor. But he also gets to play every other character Arthur meets, changing with a stoop here, a hat there, a walking stick or whatever. This helps establish that things are not necessarily what they seem and adds to the increasing and palpable tension in the theatre as the evening progresses. Yes, there are moments to make you jump, but there is much more as well. There’s a sense of foreboding and a feeling you’re seeing something genuinely spooky.

This is a remarkable piece of theatre. If you’re someone who’s not sure of straight plays and only thinks of seeing a big, sparkly musical, please do see this and find out just what brilliant theatre can do.

The Woman in Black is on tour and at The Orchard Theatre, Dartford until 2 November 2019.

 

Review – Buddy ****

Buddy is an early example of a juke box musical. It was first performed in 1989. From my recollection of seeing it many years ago on a previous tour, this latest version seems to have more of the music and less of the story. There is, for example, an extended concert sequence at the end of Act 1 set at the Apollo theatre in Harlem. But I may be mis-remembering. It’s been a long time and there have been many more juke box musicals since!

There is a problem with telling the Buddy Holly story, which is that his career as a performer and song writer of any note lasted less than two years before his untimely death in a plane crash in February 1959. And that offers precious little time for the kind of conflict or drama that attaches itself to other artists with longer careers and, therefore, marriages, divorces and children. So the Buddy Holly story is mainly about the music. It’s striking how many tunes performed by him and in many cases written by him are still well-known standards. No wonder his death at the age of just 22 along with the J. P. Richardson (the Big Bopper) aged 28 and Ritchie Valens aged 17 (the pilot was also in his twenties) is known as the day the music died.

It is the knowledge we have of this brilliant promise so tragically cut short that colours everything about Buddy Holly’s story. And it is the music which is best served by this latest tour. As a musical Buddy makes exceptional demands of its young cast. Not only must they act and sing, but also play instruments. So they are in effect their own band. And unlike a conventional pit-based band they don’t have the luxury of sheet music from which to play.  Their dynamism and energy is enough to make you forgive the rather perfunctory attention paid to exploring the characters and stories other than through the songs.

As Buddy A J Jenks was on sparkling form and convinced us of Buddy Holly’s genuine passion to do something different musically. Miguel Angel provided a much needed boost of energy in Act 1 as Tyrone Jones, host at the Harlem Apollo, with a brilliant performance of Reet Petite. Harry Boyd, meanwhile, turned in a bravura set of performances as various producers, managers and other industry figures crossing Buddy’s path. He was great in them all, although I found I was losing some if his words when he was being the narrator, largely because of the lilting style of the southern drawl he used in that role.

Since this production first appeared the biographical juke box musical has come a long way. More recent shows like Jersey Boys and Tina have more edge. But they still follow a form that was largely invented here. It may seem less fresh now, but Buddy Holly’s astounding and all-too brief contribution to modern popular music is enough to sustain this show on its own.

Buddy is at the Orchard Theatre, Dartford, until Saturday 12 October 2019.

Review – Lovers Anonymous ****

If you’ve ever endured a corporate team building ‘awayday’ you’ll be able to relate to the feeling you get on arriving for Lovers Anonymous. The chairs are arranged in a large circle around the room. There’s a basic table with tea, coffee and biscuits which the eager and slightly too enthusiastic Mike urges you to enjoy before the meeting gets started.

It transpires that what we’re attending is one of the regular meetings of a sort of counselling/self help group called Lovers Anonymous. After the obligatory warm-up exercises Mike and Sandra introduce us to the purpose of the group – a communal safe space where people can open up about their personal experiences of love and relationships. Various members of the group make contributions when prompted by our hosts. It’s not clear at first which are genuine contributions from the audience and which from other cast members who are mixed in amongst us. A few latecomers are admitted and this causes even more confusion. Are they genuinely late arrivals or entrances being made by more cast members? I’m not sure I really know even now!

The whole effect is unnerving to say the least. You find yourself watching everyone else. The ice-breaking games serve only to increase the sense of tension in the room. It comes as something of a relief, then, at least to genuine audience members, when cracks begin to show in the supposedly perfect relationship of Mike and Sandra. Her simmering resentment drips into proceedings slowly but surely, ready for an explosive moment you just know is coming.

Other group members it seems have been attending meetings regularly. Their various inadequacies and romantic failings are in their own way reassuring to the rest of us, whilst also providing some great, if perhaps unkind, laughs. Simon, for example, tells us how he has finally had the courage to speak to Emma, who he’s been admiring from afar these past two years. Suffice to say that when he brings out an album of photos of Emma it’s immediately clear he’s not made the progress the group was hoping for.

Serious issues are also addressed. Like casual sexism and the effect of pervasive pornography. The climax of the hour sees the whole of Mike and Sandra’s world collapse, whilst at least some of their group members are able to see the light and find the confidence to address their relationship needs outside the confines of Lovers Anonymous.

This was quite the most unusual experience I’ve had in a theatre for some time. The one thing I’ve always known in any show, even those designed to be interactive and immersive, is who are the actors and who are the audience. By brilliantly subverting this basic rule right from the moment you walk in, Lovers Anonymous does something unique, challenging, funny and thought-provoking.

Lovers Anonymous is at The Space Arts Centre until 19 July 2019.

Review – The South Afreakins: The Afreakin Family *****

There are, I believe, two kinds of people. Those who like wearing party hats – and normal people. I must confess, as party hats were duly handed out as we entered the theatre, I was mentally knocking off a star straight away. But, it turns out, this is, at least in part, the point. Because as the play progresses it becomes clear I wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable with the threat of enforced jollity.

The South Afreakins: The Afreakin Family centres on parents Gordon and Helene as they celebrate both 25 years since they emigrated from South Africa to New Zealand and Gordon’s 70th birthday. Joining them for the party are their twin daughters Rachel and Kelly – and family friend Clive.

The piece is written and performed by Robyn Paterson, playing all the characters. Any worries this was going to be hard work for the audience and self-indulgent for the actor were immediately dispelled by the opening scene of Gordon and Helene in bed at 3am, played completely in the dark. That way we could get to know the characters without the distraction of seeing them. After that it was plain sailing. Well, I say that. It was plain sailing for the audience. The two twin daughters arrived, along with Clive. Sibling rivalry boiled over (an object lesson in passive aggressiveness!). The amazing chocolate volcano cake was checked on again and again. Arguments happened in the bedroom and unseen off stage in the kitchen. Clive never spoke but his presence was almost literally felt. The switching from character to character, especially during heated arguments where the dialogue changed not only from one person to another but to a different scene between two other characters was effective, stunning and, OK, a little showy! So it was no doubt anything but plain sailing for Robyn Paterson. But it looked easy and felt oh so real. Sure, there were moments when she played wonderful comic riffs on the whole idea of her being all the characters. But at other times, particularly in the intense moments between the two warring twins, when their pain became all-consuming, the technical brilliance of the performance took a back seat.

The evening plays out the all-too familiar tensions that are brought to the fore by a family occasion. Subjects such a sibling rivalry and bodies failing with age whilst the mind refuses to realise it’s no longer 21 are laced with insight, wit and laugh-out-loud moments.

Invest just an hour of your life in this hugely entertaining piece and it’ll reward you with something to think about, laugh about and tell all your friends about for a long time to come.

South Afreakins: The Afreakin Family will be at The Space on the Mile at the Edinburgh Festival.

Review – Spitfire Sisters *****

In Spitfire Sisters writers Doc Andersen-Bloomfield, Catherine Comfort and Heather Dunmore tell the largely unknown story of the World War 2 women pilots of the ATA (Air Transport Auxiliary). Their role was to deliver aircraft from the manufacturers to the various airfields around the country, ready for combat. They had to be able to fly all the different aircraft types, from old fashioned Tiger Moths right up to the huge four-engined bombers. And to keep things simple they had to make these journeys without using the instruments – all they had was a compass. The powers-that-be considered women would find it too difficult to learn how to use all the different instruments in the various planes. So it seems they set forth almost literally on little more than a wing and a prayer.

American women pilots joined forces with our own ATA and the play centres on the moment this happens. It serves as a springboard to bring out a series of contrasts and challenges as the various characters reveal more about themselves as they adjust to their new colleagues. As well as a beautifully clear introduction to their differing working styles, delivered by the two senior officers to the audience as though we were in a briefing session, more personal issues surface. So we have alcoholism, sexual attraction, cultural difference and class divide all neatly brought to life through genuine and convincing characters going about their unusually intense working lives.

There is a downside to all this, which is that the story feels at times a little unfocussed. It seems for a long time it’s going to be a purely ensemble piece. Clues to any sort of plot are hard to come by. Then we begin to see that British senior officer Phyllis Griggs (Faye Maughan) is fighting several battles. There’s the one with the American senior officer, Jackie Hawkins (Alessandra Perotto), about the best way to lead and discipline their pilots. There’s another battle with her own fear of flying. And finally, the battle for equality with the male pilots of the ATA, who are paid more than the women for doing the same job. This focus is lost a short way into the second act where the pace seemed to slacken a little. At the same time it also delivered some powerfully emotional moments, such as when they all turn to salute the mission board after one of their number is killed.

Alessandra Perotto as American senior officer Jackie Hawkins dominates the stage and provides a wonderfully outspoken contrast to Faye Maughan’s uptight Phyllis. Jackie arrives in a mink coat demanding fresh coffee (to be reminded that there is a war on, you know). Phyllis, meanwhile, is so posh it almost hurts. Even her hair is uptight! In contrast Jackie’s hairstyle is a far more freewheeling affair, depending on what hat she’s wearing and whether she’s just got out of a cockpit!

Faye Maughan’s Phyllis shows great conviction and sincerity. Phyllis is not, on the face of it, a person to warm to. She’s deliberately aloof, partly because she sees it as her duty as leader, partly because she’s clearly not comfortable with letting herself get emotionally close to people. But Maughan carefully shows the humanity within as the play progresses and deftly lets the audience in on what this person is really about. She was particularly affecting during a stilted but powerfully charged phone call with her MP father as she attempts to get him to help her in her mission to get equality for women pilots .

I must also mention the staging. Before the play even started the ceiling was lit blue to suggest the skies the pilots would soon by flying through. I loved seeing the pilot, up in the gallery with a brilliantly simple lighting effect to show they were flying. Added to this the sound effects were spot-on. An air raid had you cowering along with the cast as some huge explosions detonated around the room.

The pilots were played by a young cast and each one managed two things. First, they looked too young to be flying planes in the war – which then reminded us that we did in indeed rely on 19 year old women to do this back then. Secondly they all demonstrated their absolute passion for flying. Not just because they were doing their duty for King and country, but because they just had to fly.

Director Adam Hemming really made great use of what The Space has to offer. This was a wonderul play, both a fascinating history lesson and a powerful evocation of time and place.

[Spoiler alert (although this is a matter of historic record): In a first for the British government, women pilots were awarded equal pay in 1943. Secondly, the American Jackie Hawkins in the play is so inspired by Phyllis she returns to the US to form a US equivalent to the ATA called WASPS (Women Airforce Service Pilots). This really happened and was achieved in fact by Jackie Cochran, who also went on to become the first woman to break the sound barrier.]

Spitfire Sisters is at The Space until Saturday 6 July.

 

 

Review – Man of La Mancha ****

Man of La Mancha hasn’t been produced in London’s West End since 1968. I must confess that, ahead of seeing this new production staring Kelsey Grammer, I was worried I was going to find out why!

Based on Cervantes’ Don Quixote and writer Dale Wasserman’s own television play of the novel, the musical version frames the stories of Don Quixote (the man of La Mancha in the title) by having us first encounter the author Cervantes (Kelsey Gammer) and his servant (Peter Polycarpou) as they are thrown into prison in what is apparently a totalitarian state where the inmates only ever leave to face execution. Cervantes finds himself on trial by the other inmates with all his possessions at stake if they find him guilty. He decides to plead his case by putting on a play, casting himself as elderly author Alonso Quijano who has written much on chivalry. So much, in fact, that he loses his grip on reality, believing himself to be a chivalrous knight called Don Quixote.

So within five minutes of the opening we’ve got Kelsey Grammer playing Cervantes playing Alonso Quijano playing Don Quixote! But I think my description makes it seem harder to follow than it is. In fact the whole edifice hangs together rather well and we move easily from the prison to the play within a play which is where (and when – Cervantes ‘play’ is set in the sixteenth century even though his prison is decidedly futuristic – do keep up)  most of the action takes place.

The framing device does two things. It allows Cervantes to comment on Don Quixote’s and Quijano’s journeys. And because the frame is set in the near future it also provides a degree of currency to the discussion on truth, facts and fantasy which are at the core of the story.

In Cervantes’ play within a play his Don Quixote sees things as he wants them to be, not as they are. So a windmill is a giant with whirling arms, an inn is a castle and a prostitute is Dulcinea, the love of his life. In playing this multi-layered role Kelsey Grammer has a huge task. On top of playing the three interlinked characters he also has to shake off images of Frasier and muster enough singing chops to be convincing in the vastness of the Coliseum. In terms character delineation and stage presence he’s a great success. With Frasier appearing daily on Channel 4 comparisons are inevitable. But only those Frasier tropes which fit the part of allowed in. So Don Quixote’s delusions of grandeur are a good fit, as is his use of floral language (on more than one occasion things are described as a ‘boon’ –  a favourite Frasier descriptor). As for the singing this is always at least fine throughout and often very good indeed – notably in the stand-out ‘Impossible Dream’.

Co-starring we have Danielle de Niece who is a captivating presence as the prostitute at the inn Aldonza (but who Don Quixote sees as Dulcinea). Nicholas Lyndhurst works hard as both the hard faced prisoner running Cervantes impromptu ‘trial’ and the dipsomaniac innkeeper at Don Quixote’s ‘castle’. He is a delight in the scene where he has to knight Don Quixote. Peter Polycarpou is Cervantes’ servant and Sancho Panza – keeping both of them grounded in simple adoration of the man, which provides him with the funny and touching solo ‘I really like him’.

The show overall has an epic feel to it. The set is huge as is the sweep of the story. But its unique qualities may also be what has seen it resisted in London for so long. The distance between the futuristic prison and the 16th century story can be alienating at times. The play within a play device is perhaps over stretched. And the story takes a dark turn in Act 2. Having Aldonza brutally attacked is one thing, but setting it as a dance number sits uneasily. It stays sombre, if ultimately uplifting, to the end – reminiscent in tone of Carousel.

This was, for me, a revelation. A musical unlike any other I’ve seen and which exceeded my expectations across the board. And, of course, we’ve got to keep Kelsey Grammer coming back to London (this is his second visit, having been brilliant in Big Fish at the end of 2017). More please!

Man of La Mancha is at the London Coliseum until 8 June 2019.

She in the Stalls attended courtesy of London Box Office