The Southwark Playhouse Production of "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" Is A Lively, Entertaining New Musical Chock Full of Good Cheer, Enchantment, Wisdom and Vitality

 

By James V. Ruocco

A sorcerer.
An apprentice.
A spell.
A secret.
A belief in magic.

It's immediately apparent that a hit is brewing with pleasurable buoyancy, lengthened hindsight and wickedly grinning unity and nostalgia. 

To the point, London's Southwark Playhouse has done it again.

No tricks.
No overblown theatrics.
No forced conversations.
No padding.
No whipped up soundscapes or stings.

Just pure musical theatre of the simplest kind, enjoyed with a bag or popcorn, an ice-cream soda, a bowl of  crisps and some freshly spun candy floss.

This is a production that captures the mood and spirit of a J.K. Rowling tale, but plays out in our heads like an old-fashioned technicolor musical that sparkles, sings and dances.

Taking its inspiration from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's 1797 poem and Walt Disney's iconic 1940's film "Fantasia," this musical stage version of "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" retells the story of a proud male sorcerer who, in an attempt to save the world from destruction, gives his curious but rebellious young apprentice a crash course in the art of magic, science and sorcery to embellish the skills and mindset necessary to produce a newfound magical process via hands-on training and the belief that magic does really exist in the real world and not just in the world of fantasy.

Of course, there are changes. The sorcerer and the apprentice are now father and daughter. This, being a stage musical rather than a big sci-fi movie fantasy, the story is more lightweight, definitive, sweet-minded, silly and sometimes cartoonish. Some scenes are played for laughs. Some scenes are highly dramatic. Then, there are moments that recall the nostalgic whimsy of certain 1960's Walt Disney movies or the skits, interludes and camp found in the British music hall shows of yesteryear.

Adapted for the stage by Richard Hough," "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" is dramatised with imagination, continuity, impulse and channeled vision. It is set in the small town of Midgard, which immediately reminds one of Yorkshire, Whitby or Haworth even though the actual setting is Scandinavia. 
As the musical unfolds over three, well-paced and charted acts, his belief in the material and its overall effect on his audience reaches its required potential, tone, illumination and synthesis. There is no guesswork, whatsoever.  Well-thought and developed scenes glide seamlessly from conversation to song, then back again. All of the characters have purpose, understanding and individuality. Nothing is thrown for the sake of being thrown in or to make the production play longer than it should.
Elsewhere, much attention is given to the magical element and sorcery of the story (the energy of the Northern Lights is being sapped for profit by the town's money-obsessed refinery), a conceit that Hough develops with language plain and simple that is understandable, thought-provoking and creative and more importantly, moves the action forward without the slightest hesitation. In turn, no one gets lost in the shuffle, confused by the scientific-oriented dialogue, the changes in some of the characters or the many plot developments that shape and build the story until it reaches its rightful conclusion.

The musical score, an 18-song pastiche of spirited and engaging show music, has been composed and orchestrated by Ben Morales Frost with lyrics by Hough, who also wrote the book. The songs, in order of sequence, are  "Magic in the Air," "Nature Will Provide," "Invisible," "Ode to My Father," "A Blessing and a Curse," "Mother Knows Best," "The Power of Magic," "Let There Be Light," "Spellbound," "Rise of the Brooms," "Brand New Me," "Echoes in the Dark," "Nature Will Provide (Reprise)," "You Hardly Know Me," "Damn You," "Brand New Me (Reprise)," "No More Excuses" and "Magic in the Air (Reprise)."

Every composition, as conceived by composer and lyricist, lives up to its namesake (Alan Williams serves as musical director) and is performed with expertise and aplomb in its own right. Written with a warm sense of truth, hopefulness, sweetness and harmonic balance and interplay, all 18 musical numbers serve the story well, the characters who sing them and the three-act scenario for which they were created for. Every member of the cast has the right, richly expressive sound and song style necessary to make them snap, crackle and pop, make them knotty and immediate, make them humorous and serious or simply dazzle beyond any orchestral accompaniment.

"The Sorcerer's Apprentice" is being staged by Charlotte Westenra whose directorial credits include "Waiting for Lefty," "Watermill," "Talking Heads," "The Wicker Husband" and "The Dickens Girls."
Here, she takes us on an incredible journey and keeps the Southwark stage alive with ripe, finely-tuned moments, both dramatic and comic, all of which convey the play's sense of hope, tradition, family, survival, renewal and independence. It's an achievement that she tosses off brilliantly in a confined space that reflects the important urgency, playfulness and momentum of the piece and its distilled musicality.

Due to COVID-19 restrictions, the musical itself, was not performed before a LIVE audience. This edition, recorded for online streaming earlier this month, has been filmed in its entirety using the same cinematic process utilized for Southwark's most recent staging of "The Poltergeist." It also doesn't use the Zoom platform. Instead, Westenra's directorial concept is framed through close ups, long shots, reaction shots and other edits that capture the magic and aura of the musical without ever upstaging the actors or the material. It's a process that works most advantageously and brings a certain closeness to both actor and audience that is often voyeuristic and theatrical. It's also very carefully timed and mapped out with no glitches, bumps, halts or hiccups whatsoever.

"The Sorcerer's Apprentice" stars David Thaxton as Johan Gottel, Mary Moore as Eva Gottel, Mark Pickering as Fabian Lyddeker, Yazdan Qafouri as Erik Sondersson, Dawn Hope as Lamia Lyddeker and Nicola Blackman as Isabel Grammaticus and Mrs. Arno. The ensemble, a quartet of four, are represented by Vicki Lee Taylor, Ryan Pidgen, Tom Bales and Kayleigh Thadani. Changing roles, costumes and body language faster than you could say Harry Potter, they are absolutely magnificent. They happily connect with the material, the songs, the music and the characters they are playing. But because they to it ever so intuitively, their onstage stage appearances quickly become fun for all.

Thaxton delivers a standout, nuanced performance as the put-upon sorcerer and father who must contend with his daughter's rebellion and thirst for a life made better though magic and sorcery. Vocally, he has a particularly remarkable voice (previous credits include the Phantom in "The Phantom of the opera," Raoul in "Love Never Dies," Enjolras and Javert in Les Miserables"), which he covers with excitement, precision and sweetness. He also brings an earnest sincerity to the music, whether singing a ballad or something more upbeat. Moore brings a wondrous sense of accomplishment, angst, mystery and determination to her role, matched by a brilliant vocal style that is confident, uplifting and emotional. Throughout "The Sorcerer's Apprentice," her voice comes shining through with vocal tones, phrasings and melodic savviness that make any musical number she sings become remarkably alive.
Qafouri is winsome and completely charming as the curious scientist who eventually becomes smitten with the young female apprentice. Their interaction with one another including a first kiss, is nicely conveyed without any Disney sappiness or candy-coated bubblegum.

They don't come any better than Pickering, an actor who plays the villainous, but overly campy factory proprietor with zest, punch and very inspired tomfoolery. As Lyddecker's mother, Hope delivers a convincing, serio-comic turn that's always fun to watch whenever she's on stage. Blackman, in the dual roles of the town magistrate and an overly concerned neighbor, offers a highly spirited, enthusiastic performance, which she pulls off effortlessly.

Every so often comes a musical that you want to embrace, treasure and commit to memory. "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" is all that and so much more. It hops. It soars. It delights. It enchants. It glides. Five minutes into the start of Act 1, is works its magic and keeps you happy entwined and entertained for a full two hours. The music delights and cajoles the way a West End musical should. The story itself unfolds with magic, honesty and warmth. Charlotte Westenra stages the production with strength, command and passion. The entire cast, from leads and supporting players to members of the ensemble, in turn, succumb to her celestial, heartwarming spell. And once the story reaches its conclusion and the cast gathers on stage to take their final bows, you, like those before you, will probably want to see the production again. And why not?

To schedule another time and show date, simply repeat the entire booking process. It's as simple as that and just a click or two away.

The Southwark Playhoue production of  "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" is being streamed online, now through April 11, 2021. Prices are £12 plus a £3 booking fee. To book tickets, go to southwarkplayhouse.co.uk. Look for "What's On" and click "The Sorcerer's Apprentice." This will take you to stream.theatre. Hit "Book Now" and pick the performance of your choice. 
This production is a ticketed event and only available to view at your chosen time and date. Running time: 2 hrs. plus a 10-minute interval.

A Complex, Honest and Truthful Play, "Good Grief," Presented Online by London's Original Theatre, the Hosts of the Event, Delivers a Striking Balance of Emotion, Sorrow and Intimacy That is Absolutely Brilliant.

By James V. Ruocco

A play about grief, loss, life and survival is at the heart of Lorien Haynes's "Good Grief," a riveting piece of theatre impressively told, acted, staged and directed. Overflowing with inventiveness and immediacy, this is one of those plays that London theatergoers - and pretty much everyone else - crave with abject fascination.

Sharp.
Moving.
Enthralling.
Honest.
Glib.
Exciting.

Smoothly translated with care and attention, "Good Grief" hews to the conventions of real theater, heavily footnoted with dashes of cinematic flurry and responsibility that quickly sparks the flame during its 50-minute running time.

The play, written by Lorien Haynes, delves deeply into the lives of two people - Adam and Cat - both of whom are forced to deal with the death of Liv, a young woman who has just died of cancer. Adam, her husband and Cat, her closest of friends, grapple openly with her passing revealing anger, frustration, confusion and resentment while, at the same rime, trying to hide their sexual attraction for one another until they finally sleep together.

For Haynes's, pacing, character and trajectory are important here as is buildup, investment, resolution and a bit or two of hellbent twists and turns that no one saw coming. Her narrative scope, both original and weighty, is divided into eight individual scenes - February, March, April, May, Four Hours Later, Still May, June, October. All of this is delivered with collective affinity, deliberation and imagistic style. In turn, it warrants immediate attention and voice, delivered in natural, evocative ways that keep the play flowing at breakneck speed.

Staging "Good Grief" using a highly theatrical and cinematic approach, director Natalie Abrahami crafts a catchy, influential work of small, large and powerful moments that unfolds with edge, feeling, tenderness and excitement. The fact that you never quite know what lies ahead on the pages of scenes that have yet to be performed, heightens the play's element of surprise. For example, is something wrong or about to go wrong? Is survival, woundedness and coping with the death of a loved one, worth the aggravation? Is the potential for shame and panic about to be revealed? What personal belongings of Liv's are being kept, given to close friends or being sent to charity? Is the sex between Adam and Cat real, contrived or full-on? That said, the energy of this narrative and its many unanswered questions are entrenched with pride, passion and clarification by Abrahami.

The director's cool, precise approach to Haynes's playscript is also triggered by intimate, clever, in-your-face staging that is very well thought out, justified and imagined. The camerawork, editing, close ups and long shots (Emma Dalesman serves as cinematographer) thrusts the at-home viewer right into the center of the action. Enhanced by music, scene-by-scene titles and straightforward storytelling that often seems voyeuristic, this creative concept allows Abrahami to produce confident, winning results. 

From time to time, the backstage crew is also glimpsed transforming the place via scene changes into a workable environment similar to that on stage. It's a nice effect, edited with sharpness and precision, augmented by Isobel Waller-Bridges's catchy background score. To heighten the "Good Grief" experience, it's also best not to take a break or pause the action. By watching it straight through without interruption, the momentum of the piece is never broken, lost or compromised. 

The performances by Nikesh Patel and Sian Clifford are magnificent. As actors, they naturally project the grief and anxiety of their characters. They are focused and always in the moment. They fight. They argue. They flirt. They reminiscence. They criticize. They understand. They laugh. They touch. But they do it without contrivance and are always aware of the foundations, conversations and interactions of Haynes's script and its dramatic effect on them and the at-home audience.

Raw, powerful and thrilling, "Good Grief" relishes in its own emotional amplitude and diversity. The material itself never misses a beat thanks to Lorien Haynes' seamless, propulsive dialogue. The two-member cast brings an electrifying pulse and presence to the play text. The direction by Natalie Abrahami conveys the angst, desire and restlessness necessary to make the production soar. "Good Grief" is also facilitated by a dramatic appropriateness that is truthful, resonant and accomplished.

"Good Grief," produced by Platform Presents and Finite Films, is available to stream online, now through April, 15, 2021. Tickets are £15 (you can watch anytime, as many times as you like). Prior to purchase, you must register your account at Original Theatre online in order to watch the production.

A Play Review: "The Poltergeist," a Clever, Fascinating and Darkly Acerbic Work by Acclaimed Playwright Philip Ridley, Southwark Playhouse, London, UK

By James V. Ruocco 

In the distance of the Southwark Playhouse stage, an actor's footsteps are heard in the background. Step by step, they get closer and closer until the character of Sasha, played by the attractive, moodily intense Joseph Potter plants himself downstage center stage to face his at-home audience.

"I've woken up with a headache," he explains. "I get them a lot. But this one...oh, it's a doozy!"

Thus begins Philip Ridley's "The Poltergeist," a wildly inventive, quirky, invigorating piece of theatre that gets under your skin, pushes you over the edge, slaps you in your face, kicks you in the ass and purposely messes with your head. Then again, that's the point of this play as shaped and molded by the playwright in bold, intimate, candid stokes that makes this 95-minute production completely absorbing and fascinating from the moment it begins.

Electrifying.
Satiric.
Outrageous.
Blatant.
Voyeuristic.
Ovation Worthy.

Ridley, as both storyteller and playwright, snaps his fingers, clarifies the addictive plotlines and large number of scenes, keeps track of all the characters (since this is a one-man show, Potter plays all the different parts, both male and female) and times the ever-changing themes and strategies with bloody brilliance.

He also knows what he's doing and where he wants "The Poltergeist" to take you. He builds a punchy narrative that works most advantageously. There is clarity, precision and cheekily etched sarcasm in his non-stop, full-on language. He digs deep with unflinching depravity and vision. He never once scrambles to jump forward without a purpose. Instead, there's an ease and remarkable vibrancy to the experience that never once falters.

As penned by Ridley, "The Poltergeist" puts Sasha front and center and pretty much everywhere else as he confronts his own sanity or lack of it, throws himself into a past, present and future with little or no prospects, drowns in his own self-proclaimed misery and through it all, manages memories of a happier time, when at 15, he was going to take the world by its balls as an artist with paintings and a first-class art exhibition that was going to make him a very rich young man. But sadly, everything went wrong and went up in flames, forcing Sasha to live a life of regret.

The play also traces Sasha's relationship with his boyfriend Chet; his strained relationship with his brother Flynn and the rest of his family; old childhood photos and memories of his mother's parlor salon where she happily entertained her many female friends; Sasha's dependence on co-codamol painkillers; his painting of an attention-grabbing art mural at the age of 15; a birthday gathering for the family which he doesn't want to attend; and finally, his explosive decent into madness and loss of reality. There are also some amusing, cheeky bits about lemon-drizzle cupcakes; his niece Jamila's overblown birthday party; his sexual escapades with Chet; and all those annoying mobile phone calls and chitchats with his family that are playfully done with Green overseeing the action.

Fittingly, "The Poltergeist," filmed on an empty stage last year at Southwark Playhouse, has been directed by Wiebke Green, a British-German director who has staged three other works by Ridley - "The Beast Will Rise," "The Beast of Blue Yonder," "Shivered." Her other directorial credits include "The Comedy of Errors," "Orlando" and "Heather's Wedding." Here, she thrusts the audience into Sasha's dysfunctional world with an in-your-face, brutally honest force that smartly complements the playwright's voice and vision, his dissection of the central characters and his brutal, clever, intimate and poetic patterns of storytelling.

Moreover, she doesn't rush things or fill the stage with unnecessary stage movement and blocking that could detract from the material at hand, upstage Potter or knock him down or completely out of the picture. Her staging is simple, matter-of-fact and timely. There are pauses, breaks and moments in the piece that require Potter to shift gears within a millisecond jumping back and forth into the body and mind of each of the characters he is asked to play, but, thankfully without a lot of body language or vocal variety. Green's deft approach never once leaves us hanging in the balance. We know who's who, who's saying what and how it all fits into the framework of Ridley's story. Given the fact that "The Poltergeist" is being streamed online, you can also hit rewind, play a scene over again or jump back to hear an important piece of dialogue you have enjoyed. 

Joseph Potter, an amazing actor with phenomenal control, polish, drive and emotional range, addresses playwright Ridley's script with the motormouth frenzy, it requires. He's crazed. He's possessed. He's panicked. He's silent. He's scared. He's tormented. He's gleeful. He's wicked. He's sarcastic. He's jealous. He's sexually overt. He's out of control. He's completely fucked up.

The actor who reminds one of "Half a Sixpence" star Charlie Stemp, jumps head first into the material displaying a narrative crispness and directness even when acting out a huge group conversation that reveals the showmanship and style of a classically trained performer who is having the time of his life bringing Ridley's words to life under the directorial genius of Green at Southwark Playhouse. He never once misses a beat.

A powerful, ambitious work, "The Poltergeist" thrusts you into Sasha's world with that one-on-one greatness and intimacy Ridley demands. Director Wiebke Green's take, her choice camera angles, cuts, edits, close ups and long shots serves the material well and capture the angst, twitchiness and potency of the playwright's one-man show. The level of professionalism on exhibition here is magnificent and of the highest order. Then again, Southwark Playhouse wouldn't have it any other way.

The Southwark Playhoue production of "The Poltergeist" is now being streamed online through March 7, 2021. To book tickets, call 020 7404 0234. Prices are £12 plus a £3 booking fee. If calling from America, add the +44 international calling code before the actual UK number.