It’s A Big, Bright, Beautiful Show!

Posted on by RoseIW

It’s hard to believe that the film adaptation of Shrek was released fourteen years ago, in 2001, to critical acclaim the world over. The unorthodox hero stormed the box office and the hearts of cinema-goers worldwide and earned himself several sequels off the back of his initial quest to rescue Princess Fiona.

Equally hard to believe is that Shrek: The Musical has been out since 2008 and, although familiar with the soundtrack, it’s taken me seven years to see it at the theatre. On Friday evening, at The Mayflower in Southampton, I rectified that.

With most of the dialogue lifted straight from the film – after all, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it! – and a songbook of original numbers to complement the action, it’s no wonder that this show is still filling houses. It’s a laugh-a-minute romp through the swamp!

The scenery is astounding, the Dragon is stunning, the stage is awash with colour from beginning to end and no detail is too small. It was the perfect setting for the tale, and those doing the telling did not disappoint.

The backbone of the show is the relationship between Shrek, played by Dean Chisnall, and Donkey, played by Idriss Kargbo. Both were on top form, their dynamic flawless, setting the bar high for the rest of the cast.

Luckily, their fellow performers were more than up to the challenge! Shrek is a true ensemble piece – only four cast members don’t play multiple roles – and each and every one of them was thoroughly invested in immersing the audience in the story.

Particular mention must go to Candace Furbert’s roof-raising performance as the Dragon, Keith Henderson’s energy as Peter Pan and Will Haswell’s excellent nose-control as Pinocchio.

What really struck me about this show was that it was like stepping into the film – each and every voice and accent was so close to the original; it added an extra dash of magic to an already enchanting show.

Often enough, new musicals will try to introduce songs that are, quite frankly, impossible to remember, filled with discords and odd intervals for the sake of trying to give the audience something ‘new’. Catchy modern show-tunes are getting harder to find these days, but Shrek: The Musical has them in abundance.

‘I Think I Got You Beat’, ‘Freak Flag’ and ‘Big, Bright, Beautiful World’ were just a few of the numbers people were humming as they left the theatre. But it was ‘If Words Fail’ that was the unlikely show-stopper of a number – not in the traditional bright-lights, big-notes and jazz-hands sense, but in a softer, subtler way, a song that resonates with any poor soul whose ever had those crippling nerves that come with a first confession of their feelings.

Each song is stuffed to the brim with comedy, too, even when you’re not expecting it. Even Princess Fiona’s introductory number, ‘I Know It’s Today’, takes a comic turn when an impatient Adult Fiona – played beautifully in the first half by Bronté Barbé – arrives on the scene.  One of my favourite songs in the show, it’s an anthem for little girls the world over who are growing up on fairytales and wishing for their own happily-ever-after.

The biggest bursts of comedy, though, came from Gerard Carey as Lord Farquaad – with impeccable comic timing and a serious vocal talent, Gerard had the audience in fits of laughter with every appearance, whether he was defying gravity or simply walking from one side of the stage to the other. Doing an entire production on your knees is one thing, but to swing across monkey bars, leap over dancers and get down on one knee is beyond impressive; just when you thought he’d exhausted his repertoire of possible moves, he’d pull another out of the bag. Comedy gold.

But perhaps the real star of Friday night’s performance was Nikki Bentley, who stepped in halfway through the performance to take over from Bronté who, due to illness, couldn’t finish the show. The new Princess Fiona opened the second half with ‘Morning Person’, a catchy ditty that delivers as many laughs as it does tap-dancing rats! Her cheeky Fiona flounced, flourished and farted her way through the second half to her happy ending with the audience firmly on side. And with a voice like hers, Nikki is absolutely one to watch out for in future productions – she certainly gained a legion of new fans on Friday!

Shrek: The Musical expertly walks the line between humorous and heartfelt. Although it never stays serious for long, the brief moments in which it tugs at your heartstrings – Shrek and Donkey’s falling-out, Fiona’s leaving for Duloc, Shrek’s final proposal – are so beautifully scripted and delivered that you’ll find yourself welling up every time.

It’s a tale of true love, but not as we know it, and everything that made the film so successful is in the musical, along with a host of extras (look out for the numerous nods to other musicals) that is bound to keep your toes tapping all the way home.

“You’ve never read a book like this, but fairytales should really be updated,” sings Shrek, as he stands to be humiliated in front of Lord Farquaad, Princess Fiona and, indeed, the audience, by now fully immersed in his tale. And he’s quite right. But I suppose you have to kiss a few princes before you find your ogre.

Shrek: The Musical is on tour until February 2016 – check out the website for dates and venues, and make sure you see it if you get a chance!

Understudies: The Show Must Go On

Posted on by RoseIW

Last night, I attended ‘Shrek: The Musical’ at The Mayflower Theatre in Southampton. I was happily tapping my toes and scoffing ice cream when an announcement came over the PA system:

“Ladies and gentlemen, we apologise for the delay in starting Act II. Due to illness, the role of Princess Fiona will be played by Nikki Bentley for the rest of the show.”

Well, I’ve been to a fair few shows in my time and can honestly say that this was the first time I’d known an understudy have to take over a role halfway through a performance.

And it got me thinking…

Understudies – and I’ve been one myself, though not on that scale – have a lot of pressure on their shoulders. It doesn’t feel that way at the time, when you’re caught up in performing and feeling the buzz of learning a principal part, knowing that you’re the ‘go-to’ guy or gal if something goes awry; but when the announcement is made and you hear the murmurs of anticipation or the disappointed groans, it can really set your nerves on edge.

It’s hard enough at the start of a show, when people are expecting to see one performer and you step out as an understudy wondering how many of the audience will be taking to social media later to lament the fact they got the understudy rather than the publicised lead.

To step into the leading lady’s shoes halfway through a performance, though, that’s quite the task. To open with comic gem ‘Morning Person’ is an even bigger ask. With little time to prepare and an audience waiting to see what curtain up would bring, Nikki Bentley flounced her way out of the swamp and straight into the audience’s hearts. She was a perfect princess.

I know only too well that this is ‘part of the job’ – if you’re an understudy, you have to be ready for the call at any time, that’s why you’re there. But even so, normally you get a little more warning!

Often, too, the shift of one performer to the leading role results in a quick switch-around in other roles, too. After all, before her unexpected upgrade from biscuit to princess, Nikki was playing Gingy and the Sugar Plum Fairy and someone had to step in to fill her shoes – to my shame, I don’t know who it was, but they were excellent.

It just goes to show how versatile you have to be to cut the mustard in live theatre, often learning multiple roles and choreography. As proved last night, anything can happen at any time and you have to react in the fastest and most appropriate way possible to keep the show running smoothly.

“The show must go on,” as all the greats will tell you.

This show certainly did.

My review of ‘Shrek: The Musical’ will be going live tomorrow, so keep your eyes peeled!

Colour My World

Posted on by RoseIW

A friend of mine posted a picture on Facebook last week of her patio. On the table was a glass of wine, a plate of food and a colouring book. Not just any colouring book, either: The One and Only Adult Colouring Book.

I was curious but I left well alone: I’m a fully-grown and (almost) fully-functioning adult, I wasn’t about to start spending my precious free time colouring in!

But three days later, beyond stressed, decaffeinated and traipsing around Southampton, I ducked into Waterstones for a breather and there it was: The One and Only Adult Colouring Book, in pride of place on a display table in the centre of the shop, surrounded by colouring pencils, crayons and felt tip pens.

imageI must have stood there for almost half an hour, agonising over whether or not I could justify buying myself a colouring book, trying to remember whether or not I still possessed any colouring pencils with which to enjoy it.

Tearing myself away with the same argument as before, I continued on my way empty-handed.

By lunchtime the following day I had a book on order and had sharpened as many colouring pencils as I could find in my catastrophe of a desk.

When the book arrived, I thumbed through it with a residual sense of guilt: I’m a busy woman, with a fairly high-pressure job, a lot of deadlines and far too many lines to learn in what spare time I can snatch, why on earth had I spent my hard-earned cash on a pursuit I abandoned in middle school?

With my limited artistic capabilities, I settled on a fairly simple picture of a flower as my first engagement with this so-called ‘relaxation technique’ and selected a bright yellow pencil to kick things off.

Two hours later and I was still going, determined to finish my picture. I think I was sort of missing the point: I was getting agitated when I went outside of the lines and spent far too much time trying to choose the right colours and make it as close to perfect as possible.

imageEven so, I wasn’t thinking about the stresses of the day, about impending events or personal dramas. I was thinking about colours and which ones would look best next to each other, which picture I should colour next, which green would best set off that blue…

As a child, I was a perfectionist. As an adult, I am, if possible, even harder on myself about success and failure – anything less than perfect isn’t good enough and I have a habit of pushing myself almost to burnout on a worryingly regular basis. Or so my friends tell me. As far as I’m concerned, it’s perfectly normal behaviour!

The beauty of colouring in, of course, is that the colours are hard to erase once they’re down on paper – there’s no sitting in front of a computer screen for hours, adjusting this proposal and that proposal until you’re happy with it. You just have to give it a go and hope you’ve made the right choice; just pick a colour, go for it and damn the uncoordinated consequences!

And thus, there is one more colouring-in convert in the world, shading away her worries in a rainbow of colour. Mission accomplished, colouring book. Mission accomplished.

So Little Time

Posted on by RoseIW

Striding through London, heading for the Playhouse Theatre, I came across Big Ben. A giant, golden clock in the centre of London, framed by the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament, you can hardly miss it.

And yet one man, one of tens of thousands of suited and booted businesspeople power-walking around our nation’s capital every single day, managed to overlook the clock entirely. Standing at a crossing, he slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out his phone and checked the time before dropping the gadget back into his pocket.

Flabbergasted isn’t a word I use very often, but it just about sums up my face as it looked in that moment. He checked the time. On his phone. In the shadow of Big Ben. And he wasn’t the only one.

A need for speed, perhaps? But surely, with speed in mind, it takes less time to tilt your head up and look at an actual, physical clock, than it does to go to the effort of finding your phone. Is the sight of that mammoth clock so everyday to the city-slickers of London town that it just doesn’t feature on their radars anymore?

It’s a sad testament to the hustle and bustle of modern life that we assume technology will automatically provide us with the speediest results, the most efficient of solutions and the best preservation of our precious memories…

I know I’m guilty of it at times. Mostly at events, where I have been known – not often, I might add – to stand with my phone held aloft, focusing on taking pictures as souvenirs rather than on making memories from the spectacle on stage, the atmosphere of the crowd and the company of friends.

Sometimes a memory is enhanced by not having 1001 photographs capturing every moment that you missed in person.

It’s a lesson often learned the hard way: all it takes is for one tiny blip and you’ve lost every single picture, only to then find that you can’t remember a thing about the evening for yourself…because you were too busy making sure your camera was on the right settings for the light, or focusing correctly. Not a single memory of sight or sound or smell or touch, and no-one to blame but yourself.

When did we become so reliant on our cameras, our iPads, our fancy phones, I wonder?

Take a moment to stop and notice your surroundings. Take in the details with your own eyes rather than the megapixels of your iPhone, and remember those vibrant colours. Take a deep breath and let yourself hear more than the snap of a camera phone.

Life moves so fast these days. Everyone wants to find the fastest, most efficient way of performing even the most everyday tasks; like telling the time, for example. Modern technology is a wonderful thing, and I certainly couldn’t be without it, but reliable it ain’t. That moment when your phone inexplicably crashes or freezes? It’s happened more times than I care to recall over the last twelve months.

How many times has Big Ben broken in that time, I wonder?

What’s in a name?

Posted on by RoseIW

This morning, I visited a local primary school – along with a fellow performer – to run a workshop on William Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet, one of the most done-to-death tragedies in the theatrical world.

We had been called in as representatives of a Shakespeare company to watch excerpts from the pupils’ abridged production of the play, to give feedback, to perform an excerpt ourselves and to run a few workshop games.

Romeoandjuliet1597We were under no illusions: if these children had suffered the endless analysis of metaphors, the constant drilling down to what Shakespeare might have ‘meant’ by every single line, then we were walking into a battle already lost.

Thank goodness, then, that their inspirational teacher – who I shall, for the purpose of this blog, reference only as ‘Mr C’ – whose job it was to teach these children about the bard had hit the mark with his performance-over-reading approach, and showed such belief in the talents of his class that each one’s voice rang out clear and confident as they delivered some of Shakespeare’s most challenging scenes of love, loss and sacrifice.

In a round of character hot-seating, in which the children asked my colleague and I questions and we had to answer as Romeo and Juliet, some of the questions were so deep, so unexpected, that we were almost caught off-guard.

“Describe Romeo in three words,” one said.

“How did you feel when you found out that Romeo had killed Tybalt?” asked another.

And from a third: “Don’t you think it’s weird that if Balthazar had got the message to Romeo on time, the ending could have been different? Do you blame him?”

Wow.

These young minds of just 9 and 10 years old were delving deep into the story, asking ‘why?’ and ‘how?’ and ‘what if?’ of the bard’s beloved play, rather than fixating on the technicalities of its language and structure.

This was a class that had been taught well. Shakespeare, as Mr C so rightly said, is for watching and performing, not reading and analysing.

Sit a 9-year-old in a classroom and tell them to read a play and tell you what it means and what will they learn apart from how to resent both the man responsible for writing it and the teacher responsible for inflicting it upon them?

Sit a 9-year-old in a theatre, or stand them on a stage, and tell them to watch, to speak, to feel, and they will learn confidence, they will ask questions and their faces will light up at the name of ‘Shakespeare’.

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet. 

Juliet herself summed it up, really, when she gazed from her balcony into the night, lamenting the impact of a name on public or personal opinion. Romeo was a Montague, but she saw past that to the sweet, gentle soul of the man with whom she was to fall so desperately in love.

And so, in that vein, we must encourage the next generation to see past those who would have them believe that ‘Shakespeare’ is a synonym for ‘boring’, ‘complicated’ or ‘outdated’, and instead see his plays for what they are: pieces of theatre to be performed, felt and – above all else – loved.

What’s in a name?

Well, it’s all about how you say it.

Before coffee…

Posted on by RoseIW

After struggling long and hard to think of a suitable name for my blog, a brief temper tantrum following the spillage of my precious coffee all over the kitchen floor resulted in the creation of this: Approach With Caffeine.

Aptly named, too, because of my not-so-secret addiction to Starbucks, formed in my first year of university. I had come from a Starbucks-free part of the world – unbelievable, I know! – and one considerate friend decided to buy me a bucket of mocha on day one, just before our very first seminar.

It was the first time in my entire education that I was sent out of a room to calm down.

And thus was a Starbucks fangirl born. And, seven years after I first considered writing it, this blog.

I hope you enjoy it.

– Rose