Sussex: Chichester Festival Theatre unveils 2025 programme
"[She] can do that thing where you have 30 people doing a tap dancing number and filling up your soul with pure joy," he said.December promises to be a big month, with The Three Little Pigs and a first stage adaptation of Matt Haig's contemporary classic, A Boy Called Christmas, among the productions slated for the festive season. Meanwhile, guest director Anoushka Shankar, the Grammy-nominated musician, has announced the line-up for Brighton Festival 2025 which will run from May 3-26.This year there will be seven world premieres - including Wembley, which was written in the aftermath of the 2024 riots.There will be 120 events and exhibitions during the festival period, 45 of which will be free.
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Telegraph
a day ago
- Telegraph
Fred and Ginger's shoes prove too big to fill in this flat Top Hat
The American director and choreographer Kathleen Marshall won an Olivier award and eternal gratitude for her superb, uplifting staging of Anything Goes at the Barbican across the pandemic-tainted summers of 2021-2022. She turns her attention now to another darling of the Depression era: Top Hat, with a roll-call of classics by Irving Berlin to match those of Cole Porter last time. It was a triumph on screen for Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in 1935, playing an American star in London and a hotel-guest initially resistant to his tap-dancing charms, albeit the souped-up stage musical version only arrived in 2011. Alas, while it's a treat to hear those glorious standards, somewhere along the line – whether in the chemistry between the leads (triple Astaire Award-winning American dancer-actor Phillip Attmore and Lucy St Louis, a Briton), or the general handling of the material itself – the anticipated wow-factor has gone missing. One stumbling-block is that the storyline is thinner than in Anything Goes. There you have a London-bound ocean-liner spilling over with crew, passengers and rom-com intrigue. Top Hat again involves a transatlantic element, wisecracks and a form of assumed identity, but its complications arise from a corny misunderstanding. Visiting London to perform, Jerry Travers gets carried away tap-dancing while chatting to his producer – Horace Hardwick – and becomes smitten with the hotel guest downstairs, model Dale Tremont, after she complains about the noise. She mistakes him for Horace – who is married – enabling an oddball courtship, rival overtures from a prissy Italian fashion designer and eventual expressions of surprise from Horace's disdainful wife Madge. It's much ado about nothing, really. You can mark it down as desirable escapism to a more innocent time except that its old-fashioned male-female relations invite more pushback today than even at its first Olivier-winning showing in the West End in 2012. 'Let's just say that a man is incomplete until he's married – after that he's finished,' jokes Clive Carter's hen-pecked Horace, wearily, and there's a lot more where that came from. Sally Ann Triplett as his battle-axe spouse is so scathing that even their droll reconciliatory duet (Outside of That, I Love You) can't quite banish the sour taste. More pressingly, there's a strangely withheld quality to Attmore and St Louis, stepping into the daunting shoes of Astaire and Rogers. Some of their dance-moves seem like welcome acts of homage – whether it's the hands-in-pockets synchronicity of Isn't This a Lovely Day … or the big supported backbend in Cheek to Cheek. But though both have lovely voices and a loose-limbed grace, and Attmore is a top-notch tap-machine, there's a lot of surface finesse, not much spark beneath. For their part, at their finest – achieving nifty rotations and linked-armed hoofing – the ensemble deliver the requisite clickety-clack pleasures of thundering tap-work on a challengingly compact if beautiful art-deco stage. Yet instead of fully raising the roof on its own terms, the show too often it feels like it's merely doffing its hat to its superior silver screen forbear. Until Sept 6. Tickets:
The Guardian
a day ago
- The Guardian
Top Hat review – ravishing musical taps immaculately off the silver screen
It looks like there may be trouble ahead in the first tripping moments of this silver screen musical adaptation. Several performers slip and fall during the ensemble opening number – Puttin' on the Ritz. The show is stopped, the stage mopped up (its wetness apparently caused by unexpected condensation), and then the show really does proceed to put on the ritz. Adapted by Matthew White and Howard Jacques, its drama of mistaken identity faithfully follows the 1935 movie starring Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers but it has more Irving Berlin tunes, each more divine than the last. Phillip Attmore plays Jerry Travers, the avowed bachelor and Broadway star whose head is turned by the independently minded fashion model Dale Tremont (Lucy St Louis). She, in turn, mistakes him for the older, married Horace Hardwick (Clive Carter) and the whole thing plays out like an American Restoration drama but with added tap dance and swing. It is ravishingly directed and choreographed by Kathleen Marshall, who was behind the winning 2021 revival of Cole Porter's Anything Goes at the Barbican theatre in London. The twinkly eyed Attmore brings sublime tap all the way through but especially in the titular Top Hat, White Tie and Tails, complete with an immaculate dancing ensemble. There is incredibly silky singing from St Louis in songs such as Wild About You and Better Luck Next Time, and the central couple have a natural chemistry on stage. Meanwhile, Horace and his wife Madge (Sally Ann Triplett, very amusing) bring anti-marital comedy, some of it predictable but entertaining nonetheless. Horace's British valet, Bates (James Clyde), who refers to himself in the royal 'we', is a dryly comic highlight, as is Italian fashion designer Alberto Beddini, hammily played by Alex Gibson-Giorgio. It is a show that is extremely easy on the eye with gorgeous ostrich-feathered costumes (designed by Yvonne Milnes and Peter McKintosh) and a revolving art deco set (also designed by McKintosh) which gestures to the elegant opulence of the film. Some of the costumes honour the film too, especially Dale's silk and feather dress during her duet with Jerry in Cheek to Cheek. Choreography goes from natty, bouncing tap to smooth, floaty numbers, and the latter have a swirling, romantic quality while the ensemble give the illusion of a far larger chorus line. Like Crazy for You, which played at the same theatre in 2022, this show seems raring for a London transfer. It stretches on for too long, and is not quite as spectacular as that musical, but the whole thing oozes style and wit. Heaven. At Chichester Festival theatre until 6 September
The Herald Scotland
2 days ago
- The Herald Scotland
The only people who came to my Fringe show were drunks and sea cadets
Fringe veteran Lucy Porter flashes back on how traumatising the Fringe experience can be. 'My first gig turned out to be in a Sea Cadet hut,' she recalls. 'I was going through a Goth phase at the time, so I thought I was prepared to be miserable, but I wasn't. The only people who came to the gig were drunks and sea cadets, who thought the hall was still in use for sea cadet stuff. The other comedians in the hall and me all fell out. At one point I sat on the steps and sobbed and let out a primal scream.' Read more about the Fringe In 1986, Paul Merton played the Pleasance to 'around six people every day.' 'I can remember walking in the rain every day to the venue, but then one day I couldn't remember how to get there. I think my brain was saying 'I'm not taking you there.'' Many performers assumed (wrongly) that consuming sufficient amounts of alcohol could help them deal with the Fringe experience. In 2012 Chloe Petts was a hopeful actor who turned up with a cast of 13 to live in a five-bed flat. Not ideal, admittedly. 'I coped by going out and getting drunk every night, mostly ending up blacked out with my face in a bowl of plain pasta. But that night on stage, I felt the Buckfast wield its power, and I threw up. Unfortunately, I had to kiss the other lead, my best friend, who'd just seen me being sick in a bucket. As we leaned in, she viscerally communicated 'I hate you, you stink' with her eyes while I tried to communicate 'I'm so sorry!' with mine. She didn't talk to me for the rest of the run.' Cash, it seems – or the lack of it - is at the core of many performers' stress build up. (The average cost for an adult to stay at the festival for its duration this year is £2,471 on Airbnb and £5,198 on Then there is venue hire, marketing materials and PR, and fees for the producer and director. In fact, last year Mancunian comedian John Tothill decided to mitigate the costs by contracting malaria, signing up for a medical trial that would see him infected with the deadly disease. His £2,500 research fee helped covered his upfront costs. Hyperinflation in Edinburgh during Fringe time has seen Gail Porter axe her show. Even comedy giant Jason Manford said he can barely break even. London critic Holly McMahon was initially delighted to land accommodation in a 'private summerhouse' on the outskirts of the city's West End, a 40-minute walk from the major venues, for only £76 a night. But she was shocked to be berthed in a shed with a chamber pot. Each year, some 400,000 visitors descend upon the city to witness a kaleidoscope of colour and madness, such as the lady who lip-synced using her genitalia. We've witnessed the collection of knitted bible stories. A one-man Hamlet was performed 12 years ago featuring teddy bears and a karaoke machine. There was a Bouncy Castle Hamlet, featuring a blow-up sex doll as the ghost of Hamlet's Dad, with extra points added for using a miniature bouncy castle on the big bouncy castle - to perform the play within a play. Paul Merton, seen here with Ian Hislop, is best known for presenting Have I Got News for You (Image: BBC/Hat Trick/Ray Burmiston) There have been plays featuring every affliction known to man; you are virtually guaranteed plays featuring depression, death, grief, alcoholism, drug addiction, gambling addiction, and every obsessive compulsive disorder imaginable. You can see parody musicals and dramas, spoofs and satires. You can see shows in bunkers, tents, science labs and shipping containers. Or sometimes a theatre. Yet, why would performers wish to compete in such a world of contrived insanity, of often uncontrolled ego? Performer Juliet Myers's nemesis was her attention-seeking tech support. 'She often just chipped in and responded to things I said in the show,' says Myles. 'I had a bit where I pretended I didn't know where Zurich was. She would just shout out, 'It's in Switzerland. You asked that yesterday!' She constantly insisted on making the lighting red or green and when I insisted I didn't want that she'd exclaim, 'It's my show too!'' But hang on; is this compendium of colours part of the reason why performers wish to be part of the melee? Perhaps. Paul Merton maintains that very few achieve fame thanks to appearing at the Fringe. 'It's a myth you think an Edinburgh run can be a launch pad.' Of course, many will hope to emulate the experience of Richard Gadd's Baby Reindeer which began life as an Edinburgh Fringe show, or the success of Phoebe Waller-Bridge's Fleabag. Some will cite the historical successes of the likes of Derek Jacobi who starred in a sixth form production of Hamlet, comics such as the Monty Python team, Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, Rowan Atkinson, Rory Bremner and Keiran Hodgson. And theatre colossus Six began life at the Fringe. However, the likes of The Chase's Paul Sinha, who fronted a show themed around Love, Actually, and cancelled two shows due to zero ticket sales, wallow in the challenge. And comic Adam Riches maintains the Fringe experience toughens the spirit. 'I've suffered so many shockers, from multiple walkouts and single-digit audiences to lame promoters and supposedly 'career-threatening' reviews. I was once told a 'one triangle of one star' review was coming out, but 'on the plus side, they were going to be printing a photo'. The fringe is like the shark in Jaws: a cold, brutal killing machine that sleeps badly, eats worse and makes little fringes.' It is indeed a test of grim endurance, and it just may be the (badly lit) place in which dreams may be realised. Yet, it's certainly a month-long examination of character, says writer James Cary. 'It's not just an endurance of physical stamina, ultimately, you will experience emotions and feel frustrations that only happen in this annual cauldron of dysfunctional ambition.' He adds; 'In the Bible, there is a wonderful proverb from King Solomon which runs thus: 'As a dog returns to its vomit, so fools repeat their folly'.' Is Lucy Porter one of those fools? She smiles as she says the Fringe experience may be tough, but it's transcendent. 'It's a constant carnival with things going on all day or night. It's like being in Vegas - but with mime and contemporary dance.' To purchase tickets for the Fringe, please click here
