York Theatre Royal, 6 March 2019

It doesn’t take long to realise why Emma Rice might have chosen to adapt Angela Carter’s last novel, Wise Children, for the debut of her new company bearing the same name. An unapologetic celebration of theatricality in all its glorious, glamorous, shady and seedy forms, it allows Rice to do what she (and Carter) does best, which is to tell stories about the very base aspects of what it is to be human in the most magical, dark and captivating ways.

Wise Children begins on the 75th birthday of identical twin sisters Dora and Nora Chance, played by Gareth Snook and Etta Murfitt respectively, and narrates the tale of their theatrical dynasty family. We follow the Chance twins from conception through their lives as showgirls in a tale that is comedic and tragic in equal measure, and explores themes of illegitimacy, fatherhood, womanhood, and the overwhelming joy but great despair and sacrifice that comes with choosing to live a life fearlessly doing what you love.

The production is an ensemble piece through and through, and when I say there isn’t a performer in the show who isn’t incredible, I truly mean it. Kneehigh regular (there are a few of them in this production and I am not complaining) Katy Owen steals the show as the nude and crude adoptive mother of the twins, Grandma Chance, and again later as one half of the rambunctious Hazard twins. Mirabelle Gremaud is enchanting as Young Nora and Pretty Kitty, as well as in several ear-tingling musical moments, and Melissa James and Omari Douglas are the embodiment of wide-eyed seductive youth as Showgirl Dora and Nora. 

There casting is as much an exercise in imagination and theatricality as the story itself. Characters are not bound by rules of gender, race or nationality, in a way that riffs on identity, gender and ageing, and harks back to theatre’s gender-bending Shakespearean past.

Vicki Mortimer’s beautifully crafted set and Malcolm Rippeth’s often spellbinding lighting design move the play seamlessly through time and place while always maintaining a sense of continuity. We see glimpses of the wings, see the actors warming up their impossibly pliable limbs before the show starts and chatting amongst themselves and the audience in the interval. After all, this is as much a story of what goes on behind the curtain as in front of it.

The production gives to its audience richly – we are flung from high brow to low brow, joy to despair in the blink of an eye, through song, dance, sex and heartbreak. Where at times the theatrical in-jokes can feel a little smug, they never linger for long enough for the feeling to stick. 

Wise Children is carnivalesque, Shakespearean and at times surreal – a fairy tale that most certainly isn’t suitable for children. For all its riotous joy, there is always a sense of darkness just beneath the surface. Rice calls Carter’s book a ‘love letter to theatre’, and I can’t see how anyone who has fallen for the theatre could not love this play.

Wise Children is at York Theatre Royal until 16 March, before continuing on tour.

By Fun in the Oven Theatre in collaboration with Teatro en Vilo

York Theatre Royal, 22 Nov 2018

Through physical theatre and contemporary sound design, Fun in the Oven and Teatro en Vilo aim to offer rare insight into the lives of the oft-forgotten heroines of the munitions workers dubbed the Canary Girls. 

Canary is a glimpse into the often overlooked but hugely culturally significant role of women in WWI, telling their stories through Anges, Anne and Betty, three completely different women who are doing their bit for the war effort working in a munitions factory.

The fantastic concept and the three performers that carry this production are its greatest strengths. Katie Tranter plays the leader of the group Agnes with stoicism and humour, Robyn Hambrook is prissy and particular as the upper class Anne, and Alys North is for me the highlight as Betty, playing the young girl with panache, perfect comedic timing and buckets of energy.

The visual design and costuming are glorious. The dirtied yellow faces and rough and ready jumpsuits are full of quirky character that verges on steampunk. It feels fun and interesting, like you’re one step away from smelling fumes and hearing the clanging of machinery.

Unfortunately, it pains me to say that’s where the positives run dry. I get more excited about physical theatre than any other type of performance, but its success relies so heavily on it being expertly executed. All too often in this production the movement just wasn’t quite tight enough, not quite precise enough. 

I loved the sound design, it was a perfect mix of early 1900s ‘keep calm and carry on’ charm and creepy dystopian propaganda, expertly voiced by Lawrence Neale. But the choreography felt like it was just short of perfect, and if the two don’t work in perfect harmony then you start to feel on edge as an audience member. I want to feel safe in the hands of the performers, and in terms of the physical side of the performance, I just didn’t.

The pacing of the piece also let it down. The focal point of the production is an air raid that shuts down the factory and leaves our three protagonists to amuse themselves through a series of games, confessions, trips (yes, I mean the drug induced kind) and conversations through which they reveal dreams of freedom, football and forbidden friendships. 

The way this played out was through a series of what almost felt like stand-alone vignettes, little self contained stories that would begin with light hearted fun, build up to an emotional moment and end with an awkward silence. This played out several times in a row, which interrupted the natural pacing of how I feel a narrative should develop and often made the emotional impact of the stories feel stilted. I didn’t feel any build up in the piece as a whole, or get a sense of the evolution of these women’s relationships. I was left feeling that where I should have felt moved I felt cold, because I had no concept of a narrative arc or any attachment to these characters.

I don’t usually speak with this kind of candor about productions that I have a less positive response to. However, I feel like I want to in this instance because Canary has such potential. The actors are fantastic, the concept is beautiful and the stories that are layered into this piece are bursting to be told. For me, the production feels underdeveloped – it feels as if its on the precipice of tipping over into greatness but just needs to be tightened up. These are clearly a hugely talented company with great ideas and vision, and I hope they continue to grow and live up to their potential in future shows. I’ll be watching with interest!

by Charlotte Keatley

London Classic Theatre

York Theatre Royal, 20 November

Charlotte Keatley’s My Mother Said I Never Should is an important play for me. When I was 17 my wonderful drama teacher chose it as our A Level performance piece; we studied it, rehearsed it, spoke about it and our own experiences of being women. I can’t say I loved it at every moment during that period – cutting a play to smithereens to accommodate just two actors, a limited timeframe and the arbitrary requirements of a travelling examiner doesn’t generally make for a thorough appreciation of a play – but I can’t say it didn’t have a lasting impact on me.

A lot has changed for me personally since then; I’ve gone to university (in Manchester no less, which is partiuclarly relevant to this play), had jobs, learned to small talk, been unbelievably sad and unbelievably happy, got myself a Dan and known all sorts of people. It’s also been enough time to get some perspective on some of the more difficult family stuff I was in the midst of when I was a teenager. Safe to say this production was a lovely reminder of how much we change and learn without even realising it, as well as a reminder of how important relationships are seldom easy.

The play follows four generations of women from the same family across several decades of their lives, centring around Jackie’s decision to give her infant daughter Rosie to her mother to raise. It examines their relationships with one another, and how they are shaped by their expectations of each other and themselves, exploring the cost of freedom and change. It is very much a play of its time, (something that is shouted loud and clear by the fantastic costuming in LCT’s production – I’m looking at you purple jumpsuit), but that is by no means to suggest it is not still blisteringly relevant.

Part of the allure of this play to a young Sarah who had grown up reading, watching, and largely admiring solely male protagonists (to the detriment of my self image) was its placing the female experience, and therefore female actors, front and centre. The four actors in LCT’s production are fantastic. Carole Dance as Doris, Connie Walker as Margaret, Kathryn Ritchie as Jackie and Felicity Houlbrooke as Rosie are all completely distinct characters and yet strikingly familial.

The portrayal of the complexity of their relationships and the subtlety of the traits and anxieties that have been passed down through generations is not only a testament to Keatley’s writing, but to the emotional dexterity of these actors. To portray the push and pull of love, resentment and the desire for independence that feels pretty universal to the female experience is no easy feat, and the performances felt steeped in personal experience.

The realism in the dialogue and performances is all the more important in contrast to the abstract nature of the set – in this case a haunting and surprisingly versatile junkyard designed by Bek Palmer. I was easily transported from 1940s living room to 1980s office without having to stretch my imagination through the strength of the performances.

I have always struggled with the parts of this play involving the actors playing children, but I will say Dance and Walker in particular managed to pull these difficult segments off with surprising innocence and charm. Whilst I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable with it – and I don’t think we’re necessarily meant to be – I got much more of a sense of the importance of those sections seeing them brought to life by such accomplished actors.

I was struck by so many things that had never occurred to me before I had the chance to see this play as it is meant to be seen. There is a sense of energy and urgency amongst the women that I found strangely moving, probably because it reminded me so strongly of so many of my favourite women. I also realised how incredibly keenly observed much of the dialogue is; I feel like every other line I was thinking it was like listening to my mum, or my sister, or Dan’s gran.

I was surprised by how much My Mother Said spoke to me, and in such a different way to when I was a teenager. I suspect that I will respond to it completely differently in another 10 years time and that is a rare thing for a piece of writing or performance to accomplish. I could go on and on. The bottom line is that I am hugely grateful to LCT for taking this production around the country and I feel very lucky that they stopped in York. I’ve very much hijacked this review to talk about my feelings but hear me when I say this was a beautifully put together and acted production. They have taken Keatley’s script and brought it to its full potential, and it’s something I think any person who is, or loves, or knows women should see.

York is the last stop on LCT’s tour so there’s not much time left, but see My Mother Said I Never Should at York Theatre Royal until this Saturday 24 November.