Latest news with #RoyalCourtTheatre
Irish Examiner
22-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
Culture That Made Me: Arena presenter Seán Rocks picks his touchstones
Seán Rocks grew up in Monaghan town. He has acted on stages around the world, including London's Royal Court Theatre. His screen credits include The Bill, Glenroe and Fair City. In 2000, he began presenting programmes on RTÉ Lyric FM. He has produced several radio documentaries, including Soul of Ireland, an award winner at the New York Festival of Radio. In 2009, he started anchoring Arena, RTÉ Radio 1's flagship arts programme, which airs weeknights, 7pm-8pm. See: The Sound of Music I was in a production of The Sound of Music in primary school. I played Rolf, the Nazi sympathiser. In one scene, I had to walk on stage carrying this telegram. At this stage, Captain von Trapp knew I had some dodgy background. I thought to myself, I know what will help this scene. I dropped the telegram just as Martin McKenna – who was playing Captain von Trapp – asked me, 'What do you want?' I heard from the wings my teacher saying, 'Ah, he's after dropping the telegram.' I wanted to shout, 'I dropped it on purpose!' I remember, as I exited, there was a round of applause. I thought, that's interesting. The Well of the Saints I remember the Irish Theatre Company came to Monaghan touring JM Synge's The Well of the Saints, a story about this old, blind couple who have this beautiful love for each other. Barry McGovern played this wandering friar. The belief in the play is that if you rub water from the well on your eyes, you'll see again. I was thinking, how's that going to work? Will they have a well with water in it? When it came to putting water in their eyes, the well was nothing more than an upturned light. They put their head into the light and that was how they showed water pouring over their eyes. My brain knew there was no water, but my emotions made me believe there was water and they could now see. It was incredible. It was an awakening. Boss Grady's Boys I remember early in my acting career going to see Sebastian Barry's play Boss Grady's Boys. It was a production at The Peacock. The lighting again was incredible. There was just these shafts of light and this story of these two brothers – Eamon Kelly was the simpler brother, and Jim Norton was the more sensible brother. I remember the sheer beauty of the relationship between the two of them and the emotional intensity of it. The Wake I was in Tom Murphy's The Wake at the Abbey in 1998. I played the all-singing, piano-playing priest Fr Billy. It was a great part. I had great fun with it. Music was a big part of my background growing up. We all played piano to a certain level. I played guitar. We all sang in choirs. Family parties would be singing songs, all of us around the piano, singing anything from Stephen Foster Victorian parlour stuff to folk things, to Simon & Garfunkel. Queen Freddie Mercury of Queen. The older brother of a friend at school had this amazing album collection. We'd be listening to his records in stereophonic glory. Queen became a big thing. I loved that Queen didn't use synthesizers – that every sound they made was made. Maybe I was a bit of a purist. We're more tolerant of electronic music nowadays. A lot of sounds in the Seventies were a bit kitsch. Led Zeppelin As a guitarist, I wasn't playing Led Zeppelin, apart from the unforgivable recurrence of the guitar riff at the beginning of Stairway to Heaven, which was de rigueur for any self-respecting 20-year-old who was playing guitar at a post college party. House of the Rising Sun was another staple. Now if I saw someone with a guitar at a house party, it would cause a shudder: 'Is that a guitar? Did he bring a guitar?' Tune-Yards I remember going to see the American artists Tune-Yards at Whelan's in Dublin many years ago. The lead singer was on Arena with me. I really liked the music. It was loops and pedals, very clever stuff. Some people would say it's too clever – that it's 'to be admired,' if I'm not misquoting one of our reviewers, 'rather than loved,' but I remember going to that gig, and the live experience was a whole different ball game, and brilliantly so. The Gloaming Another stand-out concert was The Gloaming. They are such a phenomenal group of players. Iarla Ó Lionáird is amazing, his facility with song. It was in the National Concert Hall. I remember thinking, this is extraordinary, I'm feeling it in the people around me. It's not that it was a beginning. Irish music has been alive and well for several hundred years, but it was part of a resurgence, a renewal happening. They were bringing other elements of music and genres into what they were doing. You had this mix of instruments. I remember the atmosphere at the gig, the air of expectation before it started. Janis Ian and Ralph McTell I've been spoiled. In January 2024, I was at Trad Fest doing a live outside broadcast. Sitting across the stage from me was Janis Ian and Ralph McTell, both of them holding their guitars. She sang, 'I learned the truth at seventeen'. He jammed along. He started singing The Streets of London and she jammed along. I'm thinking this is the best gig I've ever been at! They were playing music almost to each other, and I was getting to watch that a few feet away. Janelle Monáe janelle Monae. (Photo by Jason Merritt/Getty) I remember broadcasting at Electric Picnic, probably 2010. Janelle Monáe performed. She was really impressive. She walked off stage and across the field to where we were recording an interview. It was as if the air moved out of her way. People playing in those big arenas, if they don't have star quality they're going to disappear into nowhere. She had it. You could see it with her – that is star quality walking across there. Nineteen Eighty-Four I remember reading George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four as a 17-year-old and in particular the appendix at the back for Newspeak – the Orwellian language of control, doublethink, people in charge imprisoning people for thought crimes, pulling people off the street because they weren't obeying the party. People who went to war were the Department of Peace. If the party said it's true, it was true whether it's true or not. How that has come to pass. We live in an era where you need to be discerning. Language is such a potent thing. Claire Keegan Claire Keegan. Claire Keegan's writing possesses such integrity. The stories she tells are so wonderfully condensed. Not a word too much. Never a melodrama, just this economic, potent, thought-through sentence after sentence. If I had to pick a contemporary writer, she stands out. My Left Foot I can still remember the opening sequence to My Left Foot – where he picks up the stylus of the record with his foot and puts it on the record. That's how the film started! I blubbered uncontrollably. It was an extraordinary moment.
The Guardian
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘It's not happy-clappy': the extraordinary story of Speedo Mick
When the lights went down on the final scene of Speedo Mick – the Musical, Michael Cullen had tears streaming down his face. He wasn't the only one. On the face of it, the show about his life, which opened at Liverpool's Royal Court theatre this week and runs until July, is a knockabout romp about a local character known for raising money for charity by strutting his stuff in a pair of bright blue budgie-smugglers. But it is also a story about addiction, depression and hitting rock bottom. It's about finding purpose and becoming a hero, but losing yourself along the way. Fundamentally, says the 60-year-old the morning after its opening night, it's a story about hope. 'It's not happy-clappy,' says Cullen. 'But it is funny. It's got music, it's got love, it's got breakups. It's got hope and perseverance and heart.' In short, it tells Cullen's extraordinary story with clear-eyed honesty. For 20 years of his life the Liverpudlian sank deep into addiction, abusing drugs and drink and ending up homeless. In 2001, with the help of a friend he credits with saving his life, he managed to get clean. 'When you're wrapped up in addiction, you become a victim to your own circumstances,' he says. 'You stop taking responsibility […] there's a lot of shame and guilt. I've had to work hard to become the person I am today, who actually shows himself some compassion and love. I've had to rebuild life, one day at a time.' Part of that rebuilding was the invention of Speedo Mick, a one-man fundraising machine, who carried out feats of endurance wearing Everton-branded Speedos and little else. In 2014 he swam the Channel, despite never having had a formal swimming lesson. After becoming attached to his bright blue trunks, the lifelong Evertonian started turning up half naked at Goodison Park on match days, cheerily shaking a charity bucket. He was asked in those early days what he wanted to achieve: raise £1m was the answer. 'People looked at me like I was nuts; I was dreaming too big for them,' he says. 'But if your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough. I love that saying.' Then – with a wrecked shoulder and aching knee – he took his now-famous kecks on a series of monumental charity walks: from John o'Groats to Land's End in 2020, a 2,000-mile Giving Back Tour in 2021, then up Ben Nevis, Snowdon and Scafell Pike in 2023. Occasionally, like when Storm Ciara nearly blew his trunks off, he donned an Everton scarf along with a swim cap and goggles. In the process Cullen raised – and he has the precise figure – £1,036,000. But behind the celebratory news stories his life was beginning to fray at the edges. Without a manager and doing his own social media, he said yes to every request, on one occasion jumping on to a train to turn up in his Speedos at an Evertonian's wedding. Since recovering from addiction he had been searching for a purpose, and looking to pay back the people who had helped him survive, he explains. 'I thought the purpose was to give and it is,' he says. 'The giving back process is a beautiful thing. But you can't draw from an empty well, and I was doing that for years. I found the purpose, and I lost myself.' After his last walk – and months of hugs, cheers and beeping horns as he trudged on through the biting cold – he got home, and his mental health collapsed. His relationship broke down and he ended up in a clinic for six weeks. It is a part of his story that the producers of the musical have not shied away from. The Liverpool actor Paul Duckworth has said the role explores Cullen's complexities and vulnerability. The show's writer, John Fay, told the BBC that while Speedo Mick seemed superhuman, Cullen wasn't. Like all of us, he was fragile. The theatre's stated mission is to tell scouse stories with a scouse accent and Cullen is grateful his story is being told in his home town. 'This is where I fell, and this is where I rose again,' he says, before laughing at himself for sounding 'a bit Jesus Christy'. But he is also insistent that as well as his triumphs, it's important to show audiences his darkest moments. 'You can't just see me running around getting medals and being on the telly. It's not going to inspire anybody, they're not going to connect to it,' he says. 'The connection is, hopefully, for everyone who hasn't found recovery yet. We're shouting from the rooftops that hope is there for you. If there's hope for me, there's hope for you.' He insists that he is now taking greater care of himself. He struggled at school, and as an adult was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, but he's now training to be a counsellor ('I had a lot of fear going back into a classroom, but man! It's been a delight.') and is writing a book about his life. The tears he shed on the opening night were also tears of pride and happiness at the love he felt surrounded by, he says. 'I never get used to that. And it's great that I don't, because it's brand new every time. I don't take it for granted, the love and affection. It's massive, man. It holds me.' Until 5 July at the Royal Court theatre, Liverpool
Time Out
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
After the Act
After premiering at the New Diorama Theatre in 2023 and touring the UK, Breach Theatre's verbatim musical about Section 28 – the heinous legislation introduced in the late '80s to prevent the 'promotion' of homosexuality in schools – lands at the Royal Court Theatre after some tweaking and with a mostly different four-strong ensemble cast. It's funnier, sharper and more damning than ever before. Co-writers Ellice Stevens and Billy Barrett have shaped the testimony of teachers, activists and students into songs drawing on the stylings of New Wave and electronica. The production starts with the recollections of the lesbians who famously ambushed Sue Lawley during a live news broadcast in protest at Section 28. The wryly hysterical re-enactment of this event, hitting a bigotry-skewering cartoon level of energy, is the strength of Barrett's staging, which leans even more into this now. The first half of the production goes big to puncture the poisonous balloon parade of politicians, pundits and homophobic media outlets who created Section 28 by cynically whipping up panic over children's book Jenny Lives with Eric and Martin and misinformation about HIV/AIDS. There's even a show-stopping re-enactment of the moment when enterprising protestors abseiled into the House of Lords during the legislation's reading. Stevens (also performing as part of the ensemble) has a ball as a lasciviously awful Maggie Thatcher after the interval. But where strengthening the bombast of the first half pays off is in accentuating the contrast with the devastating testimonies of teenagers and teachers whose lives were – in some cases – permanently harmed by the aftermath of Section 28. The quiet anguish feels that much louder after all the clowning noise. The ensemble is great at matching their performances to the varying proportions of the script, helped by the deft music direction of Frew and the production's on-stage band. They may wink at the audience, but it's a knowingness fuelled by an intrinsic sense of the injustice of Section 28. And the show drops its satirical smile to powerfully address the similar discrimination faced by trans people now. The second half still has the issue – after the first half so comprehensively explains why Section 28 came into being – of only fuzzily hand-waving at why the law was ultimately repealed. However, what it lacks in exposition, it makes up for by recreating the joyful defiance of Manchester Pride and the fierce love of community.
Yahoo
05-03-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
'Rocky Horror Picture Show' Creator's Son Looks Back at Cult Classic's History in First Look at 'Strange Journey '(Exclusive)
No film has ever captivated audiences of the screen and stage quite like The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Director Linus O'Brien, son of creator Richard O'Brien, examines how his father's creative brainchild became a worldwide phenomenon in the new documentary, Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror. In a clip shared with PEOPLE exclusively, Richard talks about bringing Dr. Frank-N-Furter to life and the significance of the character and his candor. "Frank-N-Furter coming on stage and throwing off that cape and going, 'I'm just a sweet transvestite,' without any apology is wonderful. It's so out there and so in your face. It's such a liberating role, and I think it liberated other people," Richard explains. Never miss a story — sign up for to stay up-to-date on the best of what PEOPLE has to offer, from celebrity news to compelling human interest stories. Related: What Made Rocky Horror Picture Show So Epic? Original Star Barry Bostwick, a.k.a. Brad, Says It Was All Tim Curry (Exclusive) Richard then picks up a guitar and plays a little bit of the song, singing, "Don't get strung out by the way that I look / Don't judge a book by its cover / I'm not much of a man by the light of day / But by night I'm one hell of a lover / I'm just a sweet transvestite / From Transexual, Transylvania, ha ha." The documentary was created with a team that included Avner Shiloah, Adam Gibbs and Garret Price. The director tells PEOPLE that seeing how many people the film has touched inspired him to dive into its history. It features appearances from Tim Curry, Lou Adler, Susan Sarandon, Barry Bostwick, Richard Hartley and Jim Sharman. "Several years ago, I stumbled upon the YouTube page for the song I'm Going Home, one of the highlights from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. As I read through the comments, I was overcome with emotion — each person shared their personal story and the deep place the song held in their heart," Linus tells PEOPLE exclusively. Linus was born just over a year before The Rocky Horror Picture Show made its stage premiere in London's Royal Court Theatre in June 1973. "While Rocky Horror had always been a major part of my life, and I was well aware of its societal impact, this was the first time I truly grasped the enormity of its influence on individual lives," he notes. "That realization became the genesis of this film — Rocky Horror is unique in the way it created communities and spaces for people to express themselves without judgment — to feel liberated in every way they choose and to find a home among others like them. This documentary is as much a celebration of them as it is of Rocky Horror itself." Strange Journey: The Story of Rocky Horror premieres at SXSW on Sunday, Mar. 9 at 11:00 a.m. Read the original article on People
Boston Globe
31-01-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Less is more in ‘hang,' Burbage Theatre's intense crime and punishment drama
'hang,' which debuted at the Royal Court Theatre in London in 2015, is a mere 80 minutes long and contains one scene, in one room, with only three characters. The play is getting its Rhode Island premiere staging by the Get Globe Rhode Island Food Club A weekly newsletter about food and dining in Rhode Island, by Globe Rhode Island reporter Alexa Gagosz. Enter Email Sign Up At some indefinite point in the near future, an unnamed victim (MJ Daly) of an unspecified but devastating crime is meeting with a pair of anonymous, dark-suited bureaucratic agents (Margaret Melozzi and Arron Morris) from an undisclosed department responsible for crime and punishment. She has been brought to a nondescript interrogation room (designed by Trevor Elliott) with just a small table and chairs, a wall-length two-way mirror, a water dispenser in the corner, and fluorescent lights above. There, she has been given the responsibility to decide how the person who has forever broken her life and brutally traumatized her family will be killed. Advertisement The vagaries are intentional and powerful. They keep the audience from getting distracted by the minutia of the crime and the nature of the criminal, and succeed in keeping focus on the devastation they have caused and the failure of language to describe or explain it. Our victim has a lot to say, but she is hanging on by a thread and not in the mood for talking. The officious agents have a lot to say as well, but cannot help but repeatedly trip over themselves as they navigate what protocol requires them to say and what they wish to share. Hence the silences and abundance of fragmented and elliptical dialogue. Advertisement Only three things in this play are presented with startling specification. One pertains to the required race (Black) and gender (female) of the victim, for debbie tucker green's plays are – to varying degrees and in varying ways – explorations of contemporary racism and gender inequality. Interestingly, the playwright leaves the race of the two agents to the discretion of the director, who has opted for two white actors, one of whom is male. This combination results in some intriguing on-stage dynamics between the agents and with the victim, and accentuates the playwright's socio-political themes. Another unfolds as the male agent delivers, with the enthusiasm of a well-versed hobbyist, a litany of gruesome details about the nature and effectiveness of lethal injection, gas, firing squad, beheading, and hanging as the victim weighs her options. Morris expertly taps the dark comedy found in his cringe-worthy diatribe as Melozzi, the senior agent, looks on approvingly. Also cringe-worthy is the mesmerizing moment when the victim bravely exposes to the agents, in agonizing detail, her physical and emotional vulnerabilities and speaks of the immense suffering experienced by her family. Daly, whose character quakes and appears painfully uncomfortable in her own skin for much of the play, burns red hot during this extended monologue. She is brilliant. Throughout the play, the agents complain about the uncomfortable climate in the room as an awkward segue to the matters at hand. They suggest that the fickle air conditioning unit is at fault. But it's the intense heat radiating from Daly as her character becomes vocal and empowered, and the frigid demeanor of their own characters as they go about their jobs that most likely accounts for the fluctuations in the thermostat. Advertisement It accounts for the uncomfortable atmosphere in the theater as well, judging from the wide eyes and flushed faces reflected back at us from the mirror on stage. Clearly, 'hang' has served its purpose. HANG Play by debbie tucker green. Directed by Lynne Collinson. At the Burbage Theatre Co., 59 Blackstone Ave., Pawtucket. Through Feb. 16. Tickets are $30, including fees. 401-484-0355, Bob Abelman is an award-winning theater critic who formerly wrote for the Austin Chronicle. Connect with him .
