Monday, March 18, 2024

Attila the Stockbroker – bringing politics, poo, poetry, crumhorn and recorder to Belfast on Wednesday evening (The Black Box as part of #ImagineBelfast)

Attila the Stockbroker certainly has stamina. Two John Peel sessions in 1982 have been followed by more than 40 years of performing in 25 countries* and over 4,000 gigs, not to mention 20 albums, eight books of poetry and his recent appointment as the Pooet in Residence at the National Poo Museum on the Isle of Wight.

This Wednesday evening he’s in The Black Box as part of the Imagine! Festival of Ideas and Politics, aiming to make people think, laugh and cry all in the space of about 75 minutes.

Attila (John Baine’s stage name) says he started out “as a kind of an angry ranting poet, jumping up on stage between bands at punk gigs”. Today, he’s “still an angry ranting poet, although I tend to jump up on stage between bands of punk gigs less than I used to”. But he continues to write and rant about politics, social issues, existential threats to the world, as well as deeply personal things related to his own life and family. After all these year, he’s still never lost his sense of punk and people coming together. 

 

Throughout the years, the performance poet and musician has repeatedly visited Northern Ireland, playing in the Errigle Inn, Queen’s University, the Rotterdam Bar, recording a live album in the late Warzone Centre, and even doing a turn at Lagan College. He speaks of previous gigs in Northern Ireland with great affection, so when he tells me “it’s one of my favourite places to gig in the world” I think he truly means it.

Attila works a lot of life experiences, hopes, dreams and frustrations into his music and poetry, but doesn’t see writing and performing as a form of therapy. Basically, “I don’t have an embarrassment gene: I have an over-abundance of self-confidence [and] it just comes out of me, I can’t stop it”.

“The reason that I love [performing] so much is precisely because I’ve done it on my own terms. I’ve never tried to fit in. I’ve never tried to become a celebrity by following the kind of career path where you get a PR person and they try and fit you in a category and sell you to people. I’ve never wanted that. All I’ve ever wanted is to write and perform, have an audience, and earn a living. And that’s what I’ve done and that’s what I’m doing. And I absolutely love it, now at 66 as much as when I started at 21. I mean, I can say no more than that.”

The running order changes between – and even during – shows. His upcoming Edinburgh run will be promoted as 14 completely different shows in 14 days, with no repeated material (and only delving into maybe a third of his back catalogue).

On Wednesday, expect to hear some of his early material as well as the latest work, and maybe even some scatological material. His role as Pooet in Residence isn’t just an excuse to make jokes about poo – though I fully expect him to take every chance to do so – but it offers an opportunity to raise awareness of bowel cancer. And as a bladder cancer survivor, Attila has already written a lot about the glories of flexible cystoscopy. (In the screenshot from our chat, he’s holding the museum’s mascot Poobert Turdock!)

And expect a wide variety of style and form with some early music, dub poetry, spoken word, and his own style of rap. While some might argue that his inclusion of live music featuring crumhorns and recorders in the show might require a trigger warning, he profoundly disagrees. But you’d expect the founder of the Recorder Liberation Front to say that even if the instrument “has been continuously played longer than any other musical instrument in Western culture”. In a moment of selling snow to Eskimos, he’s also bringing his fiddle with him on Wednesday. Just don’t expect any ukulele or techno music – those are properly beyond Attila’s pale.

His beloved Brighton & Hove Albion may get a mention too. The team won their last match in the UEFA Europa League 1-0 against Roma but lost on aggregate (first leg was 0-4). Still not bad for a that were Division 3 back in 2000 and whose league performance chart looks like a FTSE stock you’d want to avoid investing in.

Attila the Stockbroker is playing The Black Box on Wednesday from 8pm (doors open 7.30pm). Some tickets are still available through the Imagine! Belfast website. The next evening, he’ll be up in Sandinos Bar in Derry.

 * Attila has performed in French and German, and his ‘Informburo’ website was involved in the first ever punk performance in Stalinist Albania, and turned down playing in North Korea because he was already booked to tour ‘sensible’ Canada.

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Drive-Away Dolls – lots of heart, soul and pleasure as two friends head south on a road-trip that will change everything (from Friday 15 March)

On the back of a bad breakup, extrovert Jamie joins her more introverted friend Marian on a one-way hire car journey from Philadelphia to Tallahassee in Florida. Due to a misunderstanding, the girls drive away in a car that was intended to be picked by a more criminally minded pair. And so begins a game of cat and mouse down the east coast of the United States, as a couple of violent goons try to recover the ‘gear’ hidden in the boot of the titular Drive-Away Dolls.

Jamie (played by Margaret Qualley) has an opinion about everything and isn’t behind the bush about sharing them. Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan) is much more reserved. Her sexuality to date is more intellectual than physical, but Jamie proposes some stop-offs as the pair head south to give Marian the opportunity to take things further. Needless to say, Marian’s quest for authenticity jars with Jamie’s need for experience … right up until the friendship is fundamentally reset.

Expect comedy beatings, comedy dildos, a comedy dog, incompetent thugs, psychedelic pizza, and the reading of Henry James’ The Europeans.

What works is the film’s sense of humour. Director Ethan Coen (and co-screenwriter Tricia Cooke) allow the characters to have tremendous fun with the simple premise. While there’s plenty of intentionally lecturing dialogue, there are quips that leap off the screen, and even I was provoked to laugh out loud. It’s hard not to fall in love with the lesbian roadtrippers who are full of hope and brio.

What doesn’t work so well are the interstitial dream sequences, half of which contribute to the backstory or inner thinking of the main characters, while the remainder distracted and bemused me in equal measure. The 84-minute run time is laudably short, but the story nearly trips over itself in its hurry to get to the end, wrapping up far too quickly and much too neatly.

While there’s strong language, strong sex and a bit of nudity, there’s also a lot of heart, soul and pleasure in this four-wheeled caper. Drive-Away Dolls opens in UK and Irish cinemas on Friday 15 March.

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Wednesday, March 13, 2024

An Officer and a Gentleman: The Musical – overcoming working class odds with 1982 sensibilities and a 1980s playlist of hits (Grand Opera House until Saturday 16 March)

Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley is taking the class of 1982 through their 12-week officer candidate training course in Pensacola, Florida. Not everyone will make it to the end, and fewer still will get a coveted place learning to pilot a navy jet. Many will end up ‘flying a desk’. There’s tension between the military and the townsfolk. The them and us mentality can be felt in the local bars. Foley warns his candidates that the local women will try to entrap them by becoming pregnant to escape the area with its low paid factory work and little hope of advancement.

An Officer and a Gentleman: The Musical is adapted from the popular original movie by the film’s screenwriter Douglas Day Stewart and Sharleen Cooper Cohen. The plot is interrupted by songs from the 1980s. Shoehorning in a militaristic side drum-heavy version of The Final Countdown towards the finale – the lyric “We’re leaving together” fits the graduation ceremony – is either an act of genius or completely misplaced. The performance of Material Girl feels like it’s gone completely Ken and Barbie with pink jackets and a pink skirt … though it does also echo Madonna’s music video. With 22 songs to get through in less than two hours, everything is condensed and there’s probably an over-reliance on crash key changes to build emotion and keep the rev count needle firmly in the red.

Zack Mayo (played by Luke Baker) is overcoming the odds of a dysfunctional upbringing to take a crack at becoming an officer, something his navy father never managed. Zack strikes up an unlikely friendship with Sid Worley (understudied by Danny Whelan with considerable aplomb on Tuesday night) is the son of an admiral, reluctantly stepping into the family business.

I’d expected this review might comment that many in the Grand Opera House auditorium had come to enjoy the sight of men in their pristine navy white uniforms. And the evidence of whistling and cheering did strongly confirm that hunch. But I also wondered whether the same audience might also be faced with an uplifting and challenging second storyline about the local women that would run parallel to the tough training course.

Zack’s eye is caught by student nurse Paula Pokrifki (Georgia Lennon, no stranger to Grand Opera House pantomimes). They deliver a very sweet first act duet I Want to Know What Love Is and Lennon impresses with her solo numbers. Nikolai Foster’s direction includes a superbly awkward meal when Zack is invited to dinner with Paula’s parents. Sid falls head over heels in love with Paula’s fellow factor worker Lynette (Sinead Long).

Early on in the first act, It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World sets up the theme of sexual inequality. Later, a powerful rendition of I Am Woman tries to push it further. But the 1982 sensibilities haven’t been updated, so entrapment is still the order of the day, leading to the tragic death of one character. I Am Woman’s lyric “I am invincible” is somewhat undermined when it is quickly followed by the statement “I want to marry a pilot to get out of here”.

Ultimately, the gender struggle is resolved by a working-class officer physically lifting a working-class girl out of her factory enslavement. It recreates an iconic image from the film, but also ignores her ambition to be a nurse in the act of carrying her off into his future. The song might be Up Where We Belong but the storyline reinforces the notion that marrying a sailor is the only true aspiration a woman can aim for if she doesn’t want to “stay in the box” she was born into.

Jamal Kane Crawford shines every time he marches on stage as Foley. He quickly establishes his no nonsense approach as the candidates start their three-month journey, and his singing voice is as strong as his parade ground hollering. After the interval Foley’s character is given depth and we learn about his motivation for pushing some of the candidates to their limit. There’s tough love hiding amidst the swagger and bullying. The extended fight scene is one of the more convincing pieces of musical theatre fight choreography in recent years. Olivia Foster-Browne packs a vocal punch and her character’s tricky relationship with Foley has a good pay off at the end.

Belfast is just the third destination of the UK tour. The production is still finding its feet and there is room for improvement. Having uttered “We don’t have to talk at all” a couple walk off visibly chatting. Kitting out two stage hands with racing crash helmets to push a partial car prop around the stage was a somewhat random production design decision

While the plot almost trips from lines of dialogue into song, the sound mix sadly loses some of the softer vocals even in the live band’s more mellow moments. The cover versions are usefully far removed from the original arrangements, tonally adapted for the musical rather than being pure jukebox numbers. There’s some rather fine artistry on display, none more so than during the beautifully (and deliberately) discordant Kids in America. It’ll be a dreamy track on a cast album.

An Officer and a Gentleman: The Musical faithfully reproduces the film’s plot. The musical elements show off the cast’s talent, even if some of the numbers fail to move the story along. The production continues its run in the Grand Opera House until Saturday 16 March.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner

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Thursday, March 07, 2024

Madagascar The Musical: watch out for the zebra crossing an ocean to in a break for freedom (Grand Opera House until Saturday 9 March)

The penguins have itchy feet and a strong sense of taking control of their destiny. Marty the monochromatic zebra also wishes he had been born free rather than living in Central Park Zoo. Their separate escape bids conveniently overlap. Marty’s disappearance causes some of his more institutionalised friends to abandon the safety of the zoo to search for him in the outside world. Soon a hypochondriac giraffe Melman, Gloria the confident hippo and Alex the alpha male lion with delusions of grandeur are out on the prowl, well outside their comfort zones and heading away on an adventure.

Fans of the animated film Madagascar were bopping along to I Like To Move It in the Grand Opera House last night in the live stage musical adaptation of the Dreamworks animation. Kevin Del Aguila’s book keeps recognisable dialogue from the movie, though quite a lot of the jokes didn’t land with the Belfast audience.

Some of the characters are in costume, others – like the penguins and most of the lemurs – are brought to life by puppeteers. The four penguins are a particular success, each with its own mannerisms and waddle.

Madagascar is a story about friendship and belonging, about dreaming of a better life and having the ambition to go out and claim it. Jarnéia Richard-Noel’s vocals give Gloria real soul. Not for a moment does Joshua Oakes-Rogers drop out of character playing long-necked Melman.

Act one is over in a flash. But the first ten minutes after the interval are dialogue heavy and strangely soulless. Then the energy returns with the appearance of King Julien and a sea chanty from the resourceful penguins who have travelled too far south. Exploring Madagascar, Marty thinks he’s in paradise. Alex thinks Marty is a tasty snack. Awkward. Order is restoring after a spot of othering and then it’s time for bows and an encore of I Like To Move It.

Madagascar The Musical is short and sweet (one hour 45 minutes including the interval). It’s stays true to the movie, aims the best gags at the adults, and seemed to enthral the children sitting near me. However, it has none of the depth or wittiness of DreamWorks stablemate Shrek. This touring production is performing in the Grand Opera House until Saturday 9 March.

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Monday, March 04, 2024

Imagine! Festival of Ideas and Politics (18-24 March) … a preview of the more overtly arty events #ImagineBelfast

Happy birthday Imagine! Festival of Ideas and Politics. Ten years of delighting, educating, and engaging the grey matter of citizens of Belfast and beyond. Running between Monday 18 and Sunday 24 March, there are more than a hundred films, talks, gigs, walking tours, exhibitions, panels, workshops and theatre shows. This year’s strapline seems very apt: top enterbrainment.

I’ve posted on Slugger O’Toole about some of the policy and political discussions and panels. But what about the more arty events in the bulging programme?

Shoot Belfast’s studio and gallery space on Chapel Lane is hosting two plays.

Mother! The Story of Mother Jones // Tuesday 19 and Wednesday 20 at 7pm // A play about once the most dangerous woman in America. Mary Harris "Mother" Jones was 9 years old when she emigrated from Cork to America. Overcoming inconceivable personal tragedy, she became a fearless advocate for workers’ rights and child labour law reform., testifying before the US Congress in 1917. Prosecuting attorneys and corporate landlords described Mother Jones as “the most dangerous woman in America”. Written by Mike Broemmel, Mother! Starts DJ De Jong as Mother Jones and is directed by Greg West and produced by produced by Jennifer Dempsey, Colorado Theater in Non-Traditional Places (TINTS). Their team of writers, actors and directors create original scripts that highlight individuals whose achievements have been under-recognised.

I’m Harvey Milk! // Thursday 21 and Friday 22 at 7pm // A play about Harvey Milk – the first openly gay man to be elected to public office in California. As 1977 San Francisco City Supervisor, Milk battled against anti-gay initiatives and sponsored bills banning discrimination in public accommodations, housing, and employment on the basis of sexual orientation. Described as a “visionary who imagined a righteous world inside his head and then set about to create it for real for all of us,” Milk was assassinated by co-worker Dan White who claimed the so-called Twinkie Defense. Starring Ben Beasley plays Harvey Milk. Written by Mike Broemmel and directed by Greg West.

Storytelling as Activism // Tuesday 19 at 1pm in Accidental Theatre // What happens when we encounter injustice? There are traditional routes to righting wrongs, although the outcome is often less than satisfactory. When we look to the arts, we discover that creatives have always been telling stories that pique our imagination and stir our sense of morality and empathy. Amanda Verlaque wrote the play This Sh*t Happens All the Time in response to a homophobic hate crime. (I reviewed a rehearsed reading of the play by Nicky Harley back in the 2019 Outburst Arts Festival. And returned when it was staged in the Lyric Theatre as a co-production with Imagine! in 2022.Now Nicky Harley returns to the central role this March in the Grand Opera House’s studio theatre.) At this event, Amanda will use her play to guide the audience through the importance of recording and sharing LGBTQIA+ stories to maintain visibility and encourage justice.

The Art and Science of Songwriting – Muse or Maths? // Monday 18 March at 8pm in Crescent Arts Centre // Chuck Berry said it all came down to mathematics, but you don’t hear people singing Pythagoras’ Theorem down the pub, do you? Join Nuala McKeever for a relaxed, fun evening of conversation and performance with singer-songwriters Anthony Toner and Brigid O’Neill about what makes a great song that stays with people for years and decades. As well as performing some of their best-loved songs, Brigid and Anthony reveal the secrets of their own writing and discuss the work of their favourite artists as they explore the nature of their craft – is it inspiration, perspiration or computation?

When Music and Politics Collide // Wednesday 20 March at 8pm in QUB Harty Room // What’s music’s role in shaping and reflecting the political landscape? Songs of protest. Becoming the theme tune to a particular era’s zeitgeist. Inspiring change? Or celebrating a political movement. Lifting a message off the page and bringing it to life. Musical performances and a panel discussion with Dr David Robb (Reader in Music at Queen’s University Belfast, Joby Fox (musician and activist) and Charlotte Dryden (CEO of the Oh Yeah Centre).

Cultural Diplomacy and the Art of Soft Power // Thursday 21 at 3pm in The Black Box // What has been and is the role of art and artists in shaping Ireland’s international image, north and south? What is the role of cultural diplomacy in a polarised and divided world? How can cultural diplomacy pave the way to wider cooperation and dialogue, and foster a better understanding between cultures and nations? A talk on the Art of Soft Power by Evgeniya Ravtsova (International Programmes Manager at the Victoria and Albert Museum) will be followed by a panel discussion with Sheena Barrett (Irish Museum of Modern Art), Cian Smyth (Ulster Presents) and Richard Williams (Northern Ireland Screen).

Poetry and Politics: Paul Muldoon in conversation with William Crawley // Friday 22 at 8pm in Crescent Arts Centre // County Armagh-born Pulitzer-winning poet Paul Muldoon will examine the relationship between poetry and politics and the challenges of addressing contentious and ‘difficult' political and cultural issues. The conversation will be interspersed with readings.

How many Bardic Harpers does it take to change a lightbulb? // Friday 22 at 8pm in Crescent Arts Centre // If serious poetry isn’t your thing, then join Ursula Burns at the same time in a different part of the same venue for a walk through 30 years of dangerous harping. The harp is an iconic part of identity on this island. From the Bunting Manuscripts of the Irish Harpers Assemble to Guinness, Politics, Weddings, and Funerals. Wafting through the mists of time, Ursula asks, “what got lost in our harping history?” Ursula will explore her relationship with Belfast through song-writing and finish her talk with a performance of new instrumental compositions that demonstrate her unique technique.

Henry Normal and Nigel Planer // Sunday 24 at 8pm in The Black Box // Festival regular Henry Normal returns for an evening of poetry, stories, jokes, Q&A, fun, knitwear and surprises. Accompanied by Nigel Planer, a prolific poet and author, probably best known as Neil in The Young Ones. As well as novels, plays and TV and radio scripts, Nigel has been writing and publishing poetry for over fifty years.

Just a sample from the full programme available on the Imagine! Belfast festival website.

Wednesday, February 28, 2024

The Mousetrap – a triumph of whodunnit legend over drama (Grand Opera House until Saturday 2 March)

Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap is like a historic rodent that has been trapped in amber. It’s an artefact that people come from far and wide to study. A blast from the past that has escaped the confines of the West End and is travelling around the UK and Ireland on its 70th anniversary tour. But being old and successful doesn’t automatically make something good. The play’s attraction is clearly its longevity.

Back on the 27 November 1952, the Guardian’s critic – back then, the Manchester Guardian – wrote a scathing review that dissected the play like a pathologist looking for answers at a post mortem. “… as the snow piles up around the isolated guesthouse in The Mousetrap at the Ambassadors Theatre, the false clues drift across the stage, deluding the less alert in the audience and appearing to deceive characters in the play who ought to know better. Agatha Christie's comedy-thriller, like a more expensive production which Miss Tallulah Bankhead once commented on, has ‘less in it than meets the eye’. Coincidence is stretched unreasonably to assemble in one place a group of characters, each of whom may reasonably be suspected of murder in series … Yet the whole thing whizzes along as though driven by some real dramatic force, as though the characters were not built entirely of cliches and situations not all familiar.”

It’s hard to disagree with the unnamed reviewer. As new proprietors of Monkswell Manor Guest House, Mollie and Giles Ralston (Neerja Naik and Barnaby Jago) are still getting to grips with the heating system and how best to handle their guests. Christopher Wren (Shaun McCourt) leaps around the stage and throws himself on the sofa like Frank Spencer after three cans of Red Bull. If Wren was any more cliched, his costume would include a badge spelling it out. Mrs Boyle (Gwyneth Strong) is an irascible killjoy who could turn a bottle of milk sour even if it was sitting outside in a snow drift.

Major Metcalf (played by Todd Carty who escaped Eastenders 21 years ago when Mark Fowler rode off on his motorbike) leaves no door handle unturned as he explores the country house like a military man on a mission. Mousy Miss Casewell (Amy Spinks) has booked in for a spot of mysterious letter writing. Mr Paravicini (Steven Elliott) and his strong Italian accent drops in unexpectedly hoping to find a bed for the night when his Rolls Royce hits a snowdrift. And before too long, the oppressively shouty Detective Sergeant Trotter (Michael Ayiotis) is shaking the snow off his skis as he arrives to investigate a murder with his notebook, pencil and an ability to join dots that no one else would think to connect.

With one cast member found dead at the end of the first act, after the interval everyone’s alibi is undermined, and the woodworm-infected backstories are supposed to cast doubt in every direction … bar the one you’ll already be looking. Flukes and coincidences mount up like the drifting snow outside the guest house. Directors Ian Talbot and Denise Silvey allow the play’s tone to skid between the verges as banter and giggles totally ignore the dead body now lying out of sight. The cast wholeheartedly inhabit the ill-assorted characters who create the so-called melodrama. But the gruel is thin and lacks substance … and is much less witty than the recent film See How They Run which was based in the world of the long-running London production of the play.

In my days of working in London, I walked past St Martin’s Theatre countless times on the way to dinner with a colleague in the nearby Café Rouge. It’s good to have finally seen the play, even if it proved to be an anticlimax. This time two years ago, another troubled whodunnit graced the stage of the Grand Opera House. Catch Me If You was a star vehicle for Patrick Duffy (better known for playing Bobby Ewing on TV), but like 2:22 A Ghost Story, pulling off surprises in a theatre can be challenging. It all adds to the bulging evidence file that proves beyond reasonable doubt that constructing an entertaining one room mystery for the stage is a stretch even for an expert in the field like Agatha Christie.

The Mousetrap continues its run in the Grand Opera until Saturday 2 March

Photo credit: Matt Crockett

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Saturday, February 17, 2024

Granny Jackson’s Dead – join the mourners at this sad time of loss (Big Telly Theatre Company as part of NI Science Festival) #NISF24

“Sorry for your loss” accompanied by a firm handshake seemed like the most appropriate thing to say as I stepped out of the mizzle and walked inside a house on the Malone Road to meet a line-up of grieving relatives.

Granny Jackson may be dead, but she’s living on in the hearts of her family, the folks who live next door, and the many audience members mourners who are turning up at her wake during NI Science Festival. It’s a Big Telly Theatre Company production, so expect to be whisked between bedrooms and the kitchen, given a plate of ham sandwiches to deliver elsewhere in the house. Expect to be gently involved – perhaps even emotionally – and then expect the unexpected as the cast move from their individual stations to construct the dramatic denouement.

The deceased’s daughter Susan (Shelly Atkinson) is agitated now that she’s been shaken out of the distance she clearly maintained from Granny Jackson. Grandson Darren (Gavin Pedan) and his business partner Chad (Aidan Crowe/Michael Curran Dorsano) have set up a digital memorialisation company and Granny Jackson was the first person whose memories have been captured for posterity. But that’s not to everyone’s taste in the family circle.

Ronnie (Emily Tracey) is taking a more spiritual approach to wishing farewell to the old dear. Maureen (Rosie McClelland) from next door is sitting quietly beside the coffin in the good room, remembering better times with the lively 83-year-old. Meanwhile Joe (Ciaran Nolan) sees the mourners as potential housebuyers for a property that he is trying to sell with undue haste.

Granny Jackson’s Dead asks its audiences to consider how and why and what we remember about people we cared for. Do we want to be able to forget aspects of their lives and character? Do we want to hear their voice again? Do we realise that modern technology could put words into the mouth of someone who is deceased? Are the dead being monetised? The concept of digital memorialisation isn’t laboured – though there are a rich set of technology demonstrations and artefacts woven into the storytelling. (Do check out the creepy jars in the downstairs en suite.)

The cast are constantly adapting, injecting storylines into the narrative while ad libbing around the fertile imaginations of each new group of mourners. An interdisciplinary team from the National Centre for Social Research and Manchester Metropolitan University’s School of Theatre and School of Digital Art have been involved in the development of the production. They correctly credit Big Telly director Zoë Seaton as “a hijacker of the familiar”. A good 45 minutes after the wake ended, a majority of those in attendance were still sitting in The Harrison’s front bar next door discussing what had just happened.

At the best of times, death and control of the rituals that follow can be sources of tension, as relatives wrestle for control over the choreography and the narrative. Secrets are spilled rather than shared. Big Telly accentuate those divisive moments and neatly needle Susan from being a digital sceptic to someone who suddenly appreciates what (selfish) comfort it could offer. And since it’s a wake, do expect a bit of a singsong.

The show has been so carefully crafted to gently explore our attitudes, tolerances and reaction to death, grief tech, and the ethics of loss. Attending any wake or funeral can involve a bit of acting: there’s often a vocabulary, a tone, a measured way of unexcitedly addressing the communal grief. Waiting in the queue outside the venue, even before we entered the building and met the family, another audience member mourner and I began to discuss our imaginary backstory for the unknown woman at the heart of our evening’s entertainment. The more you enter into the spirit of the event, the more your mind will engage with the themes and challenges it presents. Conscious that I have friends and colleagues who have experienced loss very recently, it’s probably also important to add a reassurance that it’s all done in the best possible taste.

Big Telly’s Granny Jackson’s Dead continues at NI Science Festival until Sunday 25 February, and there are plans for a wider (UK) tour. It’s good to see that so many will get the opportunity to pay their respects to the women who one family member quipped was such “a wild ticket”.

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Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Madame Web – the one about a man with spidery superpowers who takes violent action because he feels threatened by five smart and principled women (cinemas from 14 February)

Madame Web’s multi-threaded plot is fairly knotted and the act of mentally untangling it distracts from enjoying the film.

A pregnant woman searches for an elusive spider in the Peruvian jungle.

A paramedic (Cassie played by Dakota Johnson) starts to have premonitions after a near-death experience. Her ambulance partner’s name (Adam Scott as Ben Parker) sounds familiar … but wash your mouth and mind out with soap as this is absolutely nothing to do with Spider-Man no siree.

Three young women (Isabela Merced as Anya, Sydney Sweeney as Julia, Celeste O'Connor as Mattie) don’t realise that a strange man (Tahar Rahim as Ezekiel) is tracking them down.

The women all share a connection with the paramedic but that’s totally redundant within the plot.

45 minutes into the film, you’ll be asking whether it’s a story about spiders, a story about changing the future through déjà vu, a story about a man with superpowers who takes violent action because he feels threatened by three (actually at least five) smart and principled women, or whether the lovely scene-stealing stray cat who slurps milk will turn out to be really important.

The four parentless stars of the show are well-drawn and interesting characters. Cassie is reluctantly maternal; Anya is rational (and copies of her t-shirt “I eat MATH for breakfast” are available online!); Maddie is impetuous; Julia is shy and thus wears her name as a necklace in case she doesn’t introduce herself. But the plot weaves a tangled web around their potential to shine.

Ultimately, a lot of unacknowledged innocent people die in a bid to save the lives of three young women. Pepsi turns out to be bad for your health.

Hard to believe that paramedic Ben doesn’t hesitate when asked to swallow Cassie’s tall tale and immediately agrees to look after her young charges. At the end, I must have blinked and missed the moment that Cassie sustained the injuries that transform her sight and mobility before the final scene. It feels like a lot

The cat and the use of The Cranberries’ song Dream over the credits are the film’s best moments. There’s no end-credit scene … probably for the best that no one extends this miserable arachnoid universe or speaks of it again.

Madame Web is playing in local cinemas from Wednesday 14 February. Is it a tense thriller? Is it a Marvel superhero film? Is it a giant pile of spider poo?

 

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Monday, February 12, 2024

American Fiction – a misrepresented author fights back against the system and realises that he’s also misrepresenting himself (QFT and other cinemas)

American Fiction is a well-painted takedown of the tendency to pigeonhole culture and the creatives behind it into simplistic categories without examining the actual art. In this case, middle class, middle of the road academic Dr Thelonious ‘Monk’ Ellison’s worthy literature is filed under African American Studies rather than its true subject.

Acting out of frustration and spite, he writes a book under a pseudonym that professes to be based on his experience of life as a gangsta who’s on the run from the police and has witnessed serious trouble in his life in the ghetto. It’s made-up poverty-porn with an unhealthy sprinkling of violence, but it excites publishers, publicists, award judges and mass market readers in a way he could only dream of for his true work.

But success brings its own stress. As the deception grows in scale, Monk is faced with a continuing dilemma of whether to fess up or whether he should run with his unwanted but lucrative success. All the while, drama within his own family adds to the pressure.

Jeffrey Wright shows versatility as Monk’s mood and body swings between depression, futility, hope and occasionally happiness. Screenwriter and debut director Cord Jefferson wisely makes Monk a failed hero. While Monk is angry about the literary world’s injustice, the author is also faced with the reality that he is a flawed son, partner and colleague. Playing his sister Lisa, Tracee Ellis Ross makes a very positive but all too brief contribution to the film’s setup of the Ellison family dynamic with blunt conversations that wake Monk up to his responsibilities.

The film’s finale acknowledges that film producers and audiences expect a neat ending that will resolve any remaining threads of uncertainty. In a neat albeit meta device, several conclusions are offered, but – bravely and deliberately – none that quite scratch the itch that the 117 minutes of cinema has created as we watch Monk’s act of absurd revolt.

The satire at the heart of American Fiction is the cause of great hilarity. It’s also unsettling as you start to wonder whether you’re being played as you sit watching the film. Are you participating in a piece of reductionist art misrepresenting the source work? (I’m off to read Percival Everett’s novel Erasure to understand the translation between the page and the screen.) Who’s making money out of this story of misrepresentation and ill-treatment? All questions that I think the director and original author will be glad to crowd your thoughts with as you watch the film.

American Fiction is playing in Queen’s Film Theatre until 12 March as well as a limited number of other local cinemas.

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Saturday, February 10, 2024

Little Women – four sisters break away from the paths the world would prefer them to take (Lyric Theatre until 2 March)

It’s not often that I sit in the theatre and can forget everything else around me and be entranced by the storytelling on stage. It’s much more likely to happen in the cinema. Theatres are much more chatty places, particularly on press night, full of buzz and distraction, long before the curtain goes up.

The Lyric Theatre’s production of Little Women has an incredible intensity right from the off that held my attention with a vice-like grip. The four March sisters are gadding about the house and within minutes we’ve learned that Meg (Ruby Campbell) is the eldest, sensible, very conscious of her good looks (“her face will be her fortune”), a teacher and a wannabe homemaker. Jo (Marty Breen) is a writer at heart, a self-confessed tomboy with a beautiful sense of non-conformity,  and Meg’s wingman when they head out together. Beth (Maura Bird) is forever tinkling the ivories on the family piano, a shy homebird who is essentially honest and good, enjoying an incredible bond with big sister Jo. Amy (Tara Cush) is the youngest and least mature, delightfully mixing up big words, quite unfiltered when expressing opinions, not quite sure how of how to define herself but in the meantime very keen to be seen to please and quite jealous of her sisters.

This version of Little Women is very character driven. Based on the original books by Louisa May Alcott, Anne-Marie Casey’s witty – and sometimes a bit barmy – script creates generously proportioned scenes that allow time to explore the sisters and establish their quirks and motivations, rather than bouncing the audience through lots of quick scene changes in race to the plot’s end. While it adds to the run time – and the pre-show warnings are a little daunting* – it also adds to the enjoyment of the storytelling.

* Just don’t drink in the hour before the show starts and nip to the loo when you arrive and you’ll be fine! It’s no longer than Greta Gerwig’s film which didn’t have an interval.

Little Women is Emily Foran’s main stage debut as director. Her back catalogue of work on smaller productions has always impressed. Ploughing through the script and giving every scene the time it deserved must have been a Herculean task during rehearsals and tech. But the finished product has such a quality feel. Foran’s direction is delicate and detailed, and begs the question why she has only got this opportunity now. The second act scene featuring a family death will be hard to forget in years to come, with the emotion in the moment of loss handled with such sensitivity.

Tracey Lindsay’s two storey set serves the story well, and the layers of scenery which drop down in front to temporarily take the audience to parties and New York are very neat. The backdrop visually supports the change of seasons, along with some delicious dustings of snow and an icy adventure. Altogether, it makes for another great main stage debut. Stuart Robinson’s soundscape is at its strongest in the first act with some lovely flourishes like when it takes over from Beth’s piano playing, but the string pads between some scenes feel laboured rather than setting a clear mood for what’s coming next.

While the whole play revolves around the four sisters, their journeys are supported by five other characters. Allison Harding’s Aunt March is agreeably abrupt, a decisive and a disruptive influence each time she marches on stage. Marmee (Jo Donnelly) is the matriarch who is all stiff upper lip uttering truisms as she cares for her daughters on a meagre budget while her absent husband is off being chaplain for the Union Army in the Civil War. As the run progresses, there’s definitely room for Marmee to develop a few more rounded mannerisms to go alongside the straitjacket of duty that requires her to be deadly serious so much of the time.

Cillian Lenaghan allows next-door neighbour Laurie’s heart to be melted every time he’s in the presence of Jo. Shaun Blaney plays Laurie’s tutor and overcomes obstacles to cement his role as Meg’s love interest. After the interval, Friedrich finally introduces Jo to European culture, and Ash Rizi very quickly establishes his character’s respect for Jo as a peer, and his abject disappointment that she continues to write pulp fiction for money rather than pursuing her true talent. (Go and see American Fiction in the cinema for another take on the value of different types of writing.)

Meg and Amy embrace their femininity: after all, they have been brought up to believe that the game they’re playing means “men have to work, women have to marry for money”. But from the first moment Jo shoves her hands into the very practical pockets in her dress we get a sense of her nonconformity. At every point in the story, she wants to be fully human, not constrained by stereotypes. Without laying it on thick, this production does allow – perhaps encourage – a queer reading of the story, albeit one with a marriage that is maybe borne out of friendship and respect rather than romance. Breen delivers a mesmerising performance, a tender triumph that continues to fill out Jo’s sense of self all the way as the character grows up throughout the play.

This production of Little Women is a good story very well told. It might be set in the 1860s, but I was drawn into the sisters’ world through the quality of their accents, their interactions and the decisions they each make to break away from the paths the world would prefer them to take. It was an absorbing evening of exceptional theatre. 

Little Women continues its run at the Lyric Theatre until Saturday 2 March. Tickets are scarce – just a couple of single seats available for some performances – but well worth seeing.

Photo credit: Carrie Davenport

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Sunday, February 04, 2024

Belfast Girls (An Táin Arts Centre and Quintessence Theatre at Lyric Theatre) – fleeing famine, seeking freedom in the face of yet more subjugation

Ireland has a lot of shameful history and another part of it from mid-1800s has been captured in theatrical form by playwright Jaki McCarrick. Belfast Girls is the story of women who boarded the Earl Grey ship in Belfast Harbour to set sail for a new life and better opportunities in Sydney, Australia.

Judith (Donna Anita Nikolaisen), Hannah (Leah Rossiter), Sarah (Carla Foley) and Ellen (Fiona Keenan O’Brien) have barricaded themselves below deck at one end of the sleeping quarters and built a wall of cases to keep the unruly girls from elsewhere on the island out. While they all joined the ship in Belfast, only Ellen is local and the rest come from further afield. For Judith, this is the second voyage of relocation in her short time alive.

They’ve faked their way on board the vessel that was supposedly transporting 200 fair maidens from the Emerald Isle down under to start new lives in the male-dominated country that needed wives and workers. But most of those on board are fleeing a life of being bought and sold by rich pimps, and escaping from starvation brought on by the famine. And they may not be as free as they think. They’re soon joined by a pale and sickly Molly (Siobhan Kelly) who is also hiding her own secret past.

Can they throw off their histories to “become mistresses of their own destiny”? Or are they caught in other people’s plans, as free as wasps caught in a sticky jam jar?

(The British Secretary of State for the Colonies – Earl Grey – ran the Female Orphan Emigration Scheme which sent over 4,000 “morally pure” young women aged 14-18 to Australia on board 20 ships between 1848 and 1850.)

Dramatically there’s a lot to play with. The characters are cooped up below deck, fighting the waves and the weather, other occupants, a scary matron, and each other. Their resilience is tested beyond breaking point. They have time to explore Marx and Engels, forge alliances, develop mistrust, and let a spot of bloodletting spiral out of control.

Director Anna Simpson creates a real feeling of claustrophobia in the wood-panelled set. The cast skilfully veer from harmony to hysteria in seconds. In a well-choreographed scene, the women are convincingly tossed around their living quarters and left feeling queasy. The dialogue is suitable antiquated though the coarse language is very familiar: patterns of swearing seem to have outsurvived many other idioms.

The passage to Australia is long, and that’s also reflected in the play’s run time (well over two hours which caught out an audience member who answered a call from a taxi driver out on Ridgeway Street disturbing a later scene).

Elongated scene changes involve slow-motion dancing and songs that don’t always advance the plot or change the mood. On the whole I found them to be a distraction from the otherwise gripping acting. Despite the unrushed movement on stage, there are some jarring transitions in the soundscaping when tracks aren’t allowed to gently fade from one into the next. A moment of tenderness between Judith and Molly seems to exist in McCarrick’s script simply to advance the plot a few scenes later and deserves further examination.

Belfast Girls is a story of making choices for yourself while others choose on your behalf. Understanding how and why the famine occurred – and was allowed to have the devastating impact it had on the poorer classes – is a recurring theme. Dialogue about powerful landlords applies equally to today. The motivation of churchmen and those with control over women in 1850 is questioned. Modern-day audiences can apply those same questions to more recent times and ask whether much has changed. Much of the play’s exploration of class and womanhood is pertinent in the run up to the Irish constitutional referendums in March 2024.

Having finished its short run at the Lyric Theatre, An Táin Arts Centre and Quintessence Theatre are now touring Belfast Girls through Drogheda (Friday 9-Saturday 10 February) and Navan (Friday 16-Saturday 17). Not to be confused with the other Belfast Girls (which is back in The MAC in May).

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Tuesday, January 30, 2024

All Of Us Strangers – a very solid soundtrack lights up a frustrating plot about being gay in the 1980s and today

All Of Us Strangers portrays the isolation of being gay by physically sequestering two men at opposite ends of an otherwise empty new modern apartment block. It’s metaphorically – and we soon discover, metaphysically – rich storyline.

Adam (played by Andrew Scott) is a screenwriter who is flirting with the idea of writing about his parents who died when he was a young child. Three decades later he still feels their loss keenly and seeks connection with them and an opportunity to talk through what’s happened since their car crash. Harry (Paul Mescal) lives closers to the ground. He drinks a lot and makes a pass at Adam, turning up late in the evening at his apartment’s door with a bottle and a proposition. This too plays on Adam’s mind.

As he processes his childhood, Adam wonders what his parents would think of him if they knew how he grew up? Would they appreciate his job writing scripts for films? Would they accept him being gay? To explain anything more would be to enter spoiler city. However, it’s important to note that Claire Foy steals the show playing Adam’s mother – you’ll have to ponder whether this is a flashback or some other device – and her moment of saying goodbye finally tipped me over the edge and her heartbreak provided a much-needed emotional connection to the film. Another ending later on was less impactful.

Scott and Mescal act their socks off (in several senses). Their characters’ intimacy is believable even before what will forever be thought of as a ‘Saltburn’ moment. They are invested in each other. And the sadness within their characters’ lives is palpable: All Of Us Strangers says something important about what it was like to be gay in the 1980s – Adam’s childhood – and still today. It’s clearly a story that is personal for writer/director Andrew Haigh to explore. However, the structure of the story is a weakness of the film and I think it’s understandable that the Academy Awards skipped over this good-but-struggling-to-be-great film.

Aside from Foy’s performance, the other undeniable joy of All Of Us Strangers is the pitch perfect soundtrack. Pet Shop Boys’ synth-tastic Always On My Mind is the film’s second emotive dip into the band’s 1980s catalogue. But it’s the final number – The Power of Love by Frankie Goes To Hollywood – that heightens the intense feeling of loneliness as the story, and Adam’s love, runs dry.

All Of Us Strangers is playing in Queen’s Film Theatre as well as most other local cinemas. 

 

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Monday, January 29, 2024

The Zone of Interest – are the Commandant’s family really living the dream next door to the Auschwitz concentration camp?

The Commandant’s family reside next door to Auschwitz concentration camp. While Rudolf Höss (Christian Friedel) spends his time with engineers trying to build ever more efficient methods of killing and burning prisoners in the camp crematoriums, his family enjoy the use of a large garden, an outdoor swimming pool, and the best of clothes taken from Jewish prisoners arriving at the camp. Hedwig Höss (Sandra Hüller) urges him to take the family back on vacation to a spa in Italy. He is noncommittal as he broods over his new orders to leave the comfort of Auschwitz and take over a role closer to Berlin.

Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest contrasts domestic bliss – though Hedwig isn’t aware of the female prisoner who visits her husband in his office – with the mostly unseen but always heard horror on the other side of the camp wall. We see smoke billowing out of the tall chimneys that dominate the skyline from the house and garden. Licks of flame light up the night sky. But the ever-present soundscape that betrays the mass killing is the dull drone of machinery, marching and occasional gunfire.

Rudolf is portrayed as a cold fish. His most tender moments come when he says goodbye to the horse that he rides across the road to work each morning. Hedwig is living the high life and doesn’t want to let go of the current perks of being married to the Commandant. The couple’s children don’t have much freedom, and while they’re living in total comfort compared with the prisoners nearby, the camp’s presence and unspoken activity distresses them.

The film occasionally escapes the unsettling humdrum home life to watch a young Polish woman from the local town leave apples for the prisoners to find when they’re out working the next day. It’s just about the only act of compassion in the 105-minute film.

The unseen horror is constantly contrasted with the banal life of the high ranking Nazi family. In later scenes, we see Rudolf in his new quieter work environment. Gone are the fumes and the noise of death. But we seem him nearly throw up as he leaves the building late one evening. The audience have been mentally retching for an hour or more at this point.

The Zone of Interest is being screened in Cineworld Belfast, Omniplex Cinemas and Queen’s Film Theatre.

 

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The Color Purple – joyful songs sharply contrast with the harrowing life of Celie Harris

Musical films are undergoing a renaissance at the box office with Wonka and Mean Girls getting high profile releases in recent months. Blitz Bazawule’s The Color Purple dives right in with an opening number featuring two sisters singing on the branch of a tree while a man playing a banjo rides past on a horse. Peak musical you may think … and that’s before a piano is played on the back of a horse-drawn carriage!. But it turns out the strumming minstrel will be an important antagonist throughout the next two hours twenty minutes of the film.

The Color Purple tracks the life of Celie Harris (played by Phylicia Pearl Mpasi and then Fantasia Barrino) over four decades starting in 1909 Georgia when as a teenager her abusive father forced her into an abusive marriage with a local farmer ‘Mister’ (Colman Domingo). Losing touch with her much-loved sister Nettie takes its toll. The arrival – and swift departure – of feisty daughter-in-law Sofia (Danielle Brooks) brings comfort followed by sadness. The visit of Mister’s old flame Shug (Taraji P. Henson whose character sure knows how to make an entrance) adds the sound of jazz to the neighbourhood but the outbreak of extramarital harmony in the home is fleeting.

While Celie’s life is harrowing for the majority of the film, the songs are upbeat and hold the promise that life could be so much better. Large-scale dance routines add a sense of vibrancy to the melancholic story of enslavement, violence and abuse. Ninety minutes in, the fightback begins and the tables are turned as Celie begins to live the life of promise and joy that she deserves.

Based more on the stage musical than Steven Spielberg’s 1985 film that adapted Alice Walker’s novel, this new version of The Color Purple isn’t full of hummable tunes. It’s a long watch, and perhaps ends with everything too well sewn up. You’ll leave the cinema with a heavy heart, wondering why no one intervened over the first two decades of Celie’s marriage, or the six years of Sofia’s incarceration, and whether the situation is still all too common today. Well worth seeing on the big screen. 

 

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