Most drama schools long ago wised up to the fact that showcases need to have eye-catching variety, especially at this time of year, when graduate productions come thick and fast and when any agents attending need to justify the time spent. Unfortunately, judging by the somewhat sparse audience here, not many seemed to have found a window in their diaries but hopefully more seats were filled when the cast moved to the Fortune Theatre the next day.
Due to constraints of space this production was stripped of its musical numbers, but with seven longer pieces billed, then a curtain call from each cast member, plenty of entertainment was planned.
Offering Christopher Durang’s The Actor’s Nightmare as the opening piece - maybe tempting fate a little given its title - was certainly a good decision, Ray Cezan as George looking suitably all at sea, constantly prompted, wide-eyed and as bandy-legged as a punch-drunk boxer. While Kat Hicks as Meg flitted around in an amusing state of panic, it was Sophie Willdridge as George’s co-star Sarah, whose doomed attempt to put a brave face on things, as it all went pear-shaped on stage, was the pick of the performances here.
Less successful was We Happy Few, by Imogen Stubbs in which, though it started brightly, its cast appeared disjointed, the scenario never looking likely to grip in the short showcase format. However, there was a cheekily impressive performance from Ruth King as Charlie. King has the makings of a good character actor, with Holly Clark as Hetty and Victoria Annwood as Flora offering competent support, as did David McGroarty as Leonard.
Students willing to have a stab - or several stabs in the case of Titus Andronicus - at Shakespeare should always be applauded, though standards tend to vary hugely. But where there’s a Will there’s often a way. Costumes certainly lent weight to the piece from the start, while being centred on a strong, empassioned central performance from Chanelle Wilshire as Tamora, this was never likely to disappoint. Indeed, with the arrival of two males in chain mail - Jan Dean as Chiron and Daniel Woolnough as Demetrius - the drama got better as the action got bloodier. Earlier, as the doomed Bassianus, David Lee-Jones had helped set up the scene nicely, having the demeanour and looks well-suited for such classical roles.
With casting so key at such events, having Matt Parkinson play Sergius in a piece from Bernard Shaw’s Arms and the Man looked very much the right decision, being a unformed officer of the old school, wronged and looking for revenge against the altogether nastier Bluntschli, played with convincing caddishness by Jonas Cemm. Of course, there is a love interest causing all the mutual hate, and Lisa Leigh-Botham was convincing as the sort of femme fatale men would duel (and drool) over.
It would be hard to imagine more full-on performances than the leading roles here in a piece from John Bowen’s The Disorderly Women. Again, Lee-Jones was clearly enjoying himself in a classical role - as Pentheus, King of Thebes this time - as did Gary Brashier as the thuggish, leather-jacketed god, Dionysus. But it was Angela Tennant who stole the show in her totally committed, mad and finally bloody role as Agave, mother of Pentheus. Also effective was the increasingly unhinged cackling of the female ensemble, Shakespeare’s witches seeming like angels in comparison.
More of a Hell’s Angel was gun-swinging trailer trash Wayne, played with unnerving psychopathic reality by Damian Gallagher in Ben Elton’s bruising Popcorn. No quarter was given here, all the cast adding to this clash of social classes, Max Davis impressive as award-winning film director Bruce, as were the feisty female counterparts, Niki Clarke as the glamorous, coke-snorting celebrity-seeking model Brook, who is from a totally different planet, to the rough and ready Scout. Natalie Briggs was very confident in this role, though it was Gallagher’s take on the thoroughly unpleasant Wayne that stayed with you longest.
The final drama piece, The Anniversary, by Bill MacIlwraith, centred on a family fraying at all its edges. While there were some good moments here, it seemed more like the glueing together of solo, isolated pieces rather than an effective whole and the flow suffered because of this. Though the grittier performances came from the male cast - David McGroarty as Henry, Archie Whyld as Tom and Scott Alexander as Terry - it was the women that stirred you most, Dinah Lees as Karen and Rebecca Polydorou as Shirley adding very different roles to the messy family mix. But it was Tabitha Richards as the frightening matriach holding court over events in a style of which Diana Dors would have proud, to whom your gaze always wandered back. Her performance was really the dramatic glue which made this ultimately work.
With each cast member having appeared in one of those fuller, seven pieces, it was time for each to perform a 30 second curtain call. Of that though, about five seconds was spent announcing their name, something which would have been perhaps done better by cue card, saving time into the bargain. Of the 26 individual pieces, a number were worthy of note, including Annwood as Victoria from Wendy Cope’s Bloody Men, King as Lady Bracknell from Oscar Wilde, Cemm as Bisto from Jim Cartwright’s Road, Tennant as the prostitute from a Claude McKay piece, and Richards as Rosalind from As You Like It.
A small, intimate venue such as Jermyn Street always puts students under very close scrutiny but to give this Academy cast credit, most coped well. Coping well, of course, is another thing altogether to making that vital impression on any agents present. The cast may almost have outnumbered the audience, but when it comes to student productions, the showcase will always go on if the likes of experienced show director Tim Reynolds has anything to do with it - musical numbers or no musical numbers.
Derek Smith
EXPERT CHOICE
Nim Johnson from Rogues & Vagabonds chose Jonas Cemm, Damian Gallagher and Angela Tennant
Jermyn Street Theatre, London, May 11
Production information can change over the run of the show.
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