The sweet smell of warm apples, drowsy buzzing of bees and heat of the summer sun bathe the audience towards the end of this latest adaptation of Laurie Lee’s childhood memoir.
The climactic scene, as the teenage Lee lies under the apple cart with Rosie and a jug of cider, is a simply delicious episode to end a fast-paced new version of the iconic tale.
Lee’s lyrical 1959 book of his Cotswold village upbringing does not follow a traditional linear narrative. This prompts an episodic treatment on stage, and previous productions have been accused of being dull simply because there is no ‘plot’.
Once the early introductions are done, and given 15 minutes to sink comfortably into the style of the production, the energy and skill of the performers and blinding speed of transitions between characters and episodes keeps this version above any such accusations.
An ingenious set – a huge credit to the designers – encapsulates the notion that objects both hold and trigger memories. Lee is played with warmth by Antony Eden, who switches between the ages of his character, weaving together the whole piece.
A deliciously nostalgic atmosphere is achieved through the telescoping of time, as ‘old Laurie’ remembers back and narrates the tale, seeing through the prism of his younger self.
He is surrounded by actors who bring to life a host of names from Lee’s past. Devon Black and Amy Humphrys are sisters Phyl and Doth, but they undergo a total and hilarious transformation as a pair of warring grannies. Black also shines as the hapless village school teacher and a sheep-drover back from New Zealand.
Joannah Tincey is sister Marge and gives a flustered, sympathetic performance as poor Mrs Lee, deserted by her husband and slightly unhinged.
“The acting is first rate. Sarah Parks is marvellous as Frank, the female driver who often acts as a peacemaker between two men. Funny with great dialogue, the play has poignant moments and is definitely worth seeing.”Lancashire Evening Post
“Beautifully capturing the tics and ailments of old age without ever being cruel or condescending. Parks especially was wonderfully versatile, her turns ranging from the cheesy cabaret in a Folkeston hotel to Len, one of the ‘Mark Brothers’, a laconic, asthmatic ex-minor.”Chelmsford Weekly News
Most of us know Laurie Lee’s magical account of growing up in Slad, Gloucestershire from 1917 to 1934, when the world first started moving faster than the 8 mph which it had done since the time of the Romans and you could rent a cottage for 3/6d a week.
Using that material and a number of Lee’s later poems, Daniel O’Brien has fashioned a lovely sound and mood piece in two acts to capture a world now gone forever.
Designer Dora Schweitzer provides an atmospheric circular set of ladders, chairs and benches, above which are suspended empty picture-frames, an old washer, flowers, twigs and a watering can amongst much else.
Mark Howland’s lighting makes inventive use of the space to transport us through the seasons and TJ Holmes’ original and adapted music is an integral part of an impressive ensemble piece.
Devon Black, Antony Eden, TJ Holmes, Amy Humphreys, Joannah Tincey and Liam Tobin create between them the whole of Lee’s village world and Antony Eden plays Laurie with a beguiling simplicity. Each of the others plays one of the brothers and sisters but they all become village characters as the play proceeds.
I was beginning to think that director Abigail Anderson had allowed her players to become a bit artsy-fartsy at times but moments like the charabanc ride to Weston-super-Mare and the final moments when Laurie takes the first bite of that metaphorical apple proffered by Rosie more than compensated for any impish thoughts lurking at the back of my critical mind. Quaff some cider if you can.
The Friends of the 1940s visit Oldham Coliseum Theatre to watch CP Taylor’s bittersweet wartime comedy And a Nightingale Sang.
The group, who have been together for over ten years, made a special trip to the Coliseum together as the production is set in their favourite era. Head to toe in vintage gear, the Friends of the 40s are sure to get into the spirit of the show which is full of war time classics such as We’ll Meet Again and And a Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square. The group meet regularly to celebrate all things related to 1940s such as concerts, dance classes and even re-enactments.
Friends of the 1940s
Left to Right: David Mulligan, Glenise Jones, David Lappin, Jane Gaunt, Karen Andrews, Susan Jones, Alison Daniels, Pat Campbell, Sheila MacPherson, Lynne Bagshaw
There was a time when the ‘war’ dominated life. Even in post WAR there was no getting away from it. It formed a reference point where all things began and ended. That war after all claimed so many lives, affected so many lives and for a short while became the only life people knew. Life goes on and so this generation has slowly lost its affinity to that war and what that war brought. So it was with this in mind that I took my seat at the cosy Oldham Coliseum to watch wartime drama, And A Nightingale Sang.
In conjunction with the New Vic Theatre and Newcastle-under-Lyme Co-Productions, ‘And A Nightingale Sang’ is a story of one North East family and their lives and loves set against the backdrop of the Second World War. Written by C.P. Taylor, the story centres around the oldest daughter of the family, in which she recalls how the war indirectly affected her and her family.
War and what it does to people – from the great war to the latest Oscar winning epic surrounding a bomb disposal squad in Iraq – has often provided a rich source for writers galore. The beauty of Taylor’s work is that the actual war does not dominate his stories but is always there hovering in the background. Whilst its importance to the plot is essential, as Taylor knits and weaves together the trials and tribulations of one particular family, it is cleverly understated.
Bringing that aspect of Taylor’s work to the fore is no mean feat but director Sarah Punshon manages to accomplish this quite adeptly. The audience is treated to the comical and often bitter-sweet machinations of a slice of family life that involves religion, love and household pets but the war very much lurks in the background. We are subtly subjected to air raid sirens, shelters, cowering from the bombs and war time songs as if they are just a normal way of life.
The superb cast helps enormously in bringing Taylor’s work to life. Laura Norton, who is charged with holding the production together through her narration, gives a wonderfully composed performance as the eldest daughter Helen. She is aided and abetted by some equally assured acting from Anna Doolan as the confused Joyce and majestic comic brilliance from Katherine Dow Blyton, who gives a cracking rendition of a catholic matriarch, Simeon Truby who excels in both song and verse, and a scene stealing performance from Ged Mckenna, whose portrayal of Andie has the audience eating out of his hand.
The material no doubt helps such actors bring out the best in their repertoire. The mixture of song and dance helps give the feel of the play a lovely sentimental tone. Punshon integrates these elements expertly well using both the plot and the set to convey the overall theme of the show. The set and surroundings should take their share of the plaudits. Helen Goddard as designer and Danielle Beattie as lighting designer have done an exceptional job in bringing the homely feel to the stage.
The theatre also plays its part I have to say. My first visit to the Colliseum has left me with nothing but good things to say. It’s claustrophobic and compact settings added to the production in that it almost felt as if we were an invited guest in the family’s home, sat in the corner of the living room watching these events unfold.
It is very rare that you often find productions where everything comes together so well, from the set design, the lighting, the musical contribution, the direction, the acting and the writing. When it does, as in the case of And a Nightingale Sang, it is a joy to behold and to cherish.
Originally written by CP Taylor in the late seventies and set in his adopted city of Newcastle upon Tyne, it’s apt that this latest production of And A Nightingale Sang was developed in the other Newcastle (Under Lyme – the one near Stoke).
The two hour plus drama ambitiously covers the full six years of the second world war and its repercussions for the members of a Geordie family.
Opening with the declaration of war in 1939 the scene introduces devoutly religious Mam, Da and his obsession with belting out the latest songs on the piano, elder daughter Helen – our narrator, younger daughter Joyce pontificating whether to marry soldier Eric and his friend Norman who soon develops an eye for Helen.
Meanwhile Grand-da wanders about with pets in tow and steals some of the best comedic lines of the show.
Overall the production is a fine one. The set and costumes are utterly convincing and the performances accomplished, but it’s the original script that has the flaws here.
Though Helen’s monologue interestingly breaks through the fourth wall, the rhythm of telling the audience what is about to happen then acting it out begins to grate. Potentially moving moments such as when Mam hands her eldest daughter her ration book as she is leaving the family home are over played and thus lost.
As are a few comedic moments – a whining kettle the family takes for a bomb dropping doesn’t require Helen’s clumsy line of ‘suddenly, I knew what the noise was.’
However in the main the script is spot on, dialogue complexly criss-crosses itself – in the opening scene conversations about the local priest, a dead dog and Joyce’s marriage deliberations elegantly compete for dominance. Plus there are a range of lines that are perfectly pitched for laughs too.
Overall it’s a sensitive portrayal of a family and how the lives of those left at home were affected by the war and the spirit that got them through.
CECIL Taylor had a fitful career: one acknowledged masterpiece with “Good” — about the Holocaust — but quite a lot of small-scale, unpublished plays too.
Taylor’s influence was largely felt in the work of others: he helped to found a local theatre company and influenced several other writers with community-orientated plays seen by thousands at venues all over his adopted North-East.
Which brings us to this music-rich tragi-comedy, a tumbling, everything-within, fly-on-the-wall look at a Newcastle family from the day World War Two breaks out until its end.
In fact this is Taylor’s other hit: a warm, lively, mainly good-humoured slice of home-front life with songs of the day and a central family typical of the time: mum and dad and their two adult daughters and the girls’ grandfather, with the girls’ soldier-boy friends for added measure.
On first glance, the play is like Taylor’s career: lots going on, some of it significant and some of it a bit thin. But after a while the family’s charm prevails.
You follow them deeper into the war years, more deeply into their personal fears, secrets and lies and what emerges is a genuinely affecting, familiar portrait — with everyone in the audience rooting for leading character Helen, a good person struggling to overcome a handicap.
This Coliseum co-production is one of the more successful of the past few years, and comes to Oldham after two previous stops, meaning it is well run-in and displays impeccable timing.
Director Sarah Punshon pushes the first half hard, the result being a slightly frantic mix of jokes, songs and movement that hardly settles — though to be fair this is largely imposed by a similarly wayward script with lots of action and dialogue to little story-moving effect.
But after an hour or so the rhythm slows and the play starts to settle as the girls, Helen (the excellent Laura Norton) and Joyce (Anna Doolan) get more deeply involved with lover Norman (Jack Bennett) and husband Eric (Michael Imerson) respectively, and endure heartache and joy with the turning of the years.
A couple of the casting choices seem a little odd; both Ged McKenna and Katherine Dow Blyton, as grandad and mother, seem rather young for their characters (though both are otherwise fine), giving a slightly unconvincing air to a play that thrives on character realism. Luckily Simeon Truby is a strong fine-voiced, father, who always has a song to smooth things over.
“Simeon Truby, who should be commended for his singing and skills as a pianist, …[Simeon] plays a selection of well-known wartime songs well and confidently leads the cast in the chorus singing.”
It’s a stage and film classic —Keith Waterhouse and Willis Hall’s first collaboration fits in beautifully in an intimate theatre like the Coliseum.
We almost feel to be in the Fisher’s claustrophobic front room, watching the typical northern family of the 1960s spend a Saturday at home.
Judging by the age of the audience at last night’s opening, most would have been the same age as the eponymous Billy in the early 1960s and felt instantly at home in the era.
Based on the book by Keith Waterhouse, “Billy Liar” charts how a young man’s excess of exaggeration lands him in hot water — with three girlfriends, one engagement ring, an irate father, exasperated mother and a teenage workmate who is losing patience with his fibbing friend.
Billy is a compulsive liar, but without malice, because he either fibs to impress or get himself out of a sticky situation.
Played by Nathan Hannan, dreamy Billy misses his Saturday shift, unsuccessfully tries to end one engagement to the dopey Barbara (Julia Mallam) to start another with the common Rita (Janey Lawson), but really wants to escape with the exciting Liz (Lucy Evans).
TV star Helen Fraser (“Bad Girls” prison officer Sylvia Hollamby) plays Alice, Billy’s long suffering and exasperated mum, the northern matriarch, capturing brilliantly the houseproud figure desperate for her son to get a grip and make something of himself.
Hannan looks the part — remember Billy is not of age, not 21, and still under strict parental control, making his flights of fancy and imagination one way of escaping the tedium of home life.
Most of the time he’s quick and clever, but sometimes has a tendency to slip into sulky teenager mould, when he’s almost irritating.
Yet he’s good in director Michael Lunney’s staging of his fantasy world, when the action halts and Billy’s dreams fleetingly fill the stage bathed in a rich red glow.
Blustering dad, James Morley, has a good stab at the put-downs which bring Billy back to earth, but there is a gem of a performance from Sally Sanders as Gran, from her crepe stockings and bandaged legs to her rummages in her handbag the way old ladies always do.
And the set for Middle Ground Theatre Company’s touring production ticks all the boxes — three-piece suite, wallpaper, sideboard, fireplace, cocktail cabinet and portable radio are straight out of 1962.
