Sasha Regan’s All-Male The Pirates of Penzance continues on tour until 28 June
Sasha Regan’s All-Male The Pirates of Penzance at Richmond Theatre, then on tour until 28 June.
Star rating: 4 stars ★ ★ ★ ★
A critic’s lot is not (always) a happy one, but even the hardest heart would warm to the very model of a modern major gender-bending of this much-loved Gilbert and Sullivan operetta.
Kicking off (and high-kicking) this ten-centre tour at conservative Richmond, the all-male cast of 18, falsies and falsettos in tow, had the audience laughing until they cried, yet always treating the aged material with the respect it deserved.
A standing ovation sent the pirates and their ‘women’ on their way to their next port of call, Winchester, and from there it’s on to Bath, Guildford, Beverley, Bridlington, Brighton, Exeter, Cambridge and a return to the Hackney Empire where they took no prisoners in 2012.
This is a worthy revival of a show that first saw the light of day at the tiny Union Theatre on the London Fringe in 2009 and gathered such favour that it went on to a six-week sell-out at Wilton’s Music Hall.
Kingston’s Rose Theatre, Hackney Empire and a successful tour of Australia followed. Now, three more years down the line, the good-hearted pirates are back and in rude health. Methinks the provinces are in for a treat.
Written almost 150 years ago and a hit from the start, Pirates still has something to say about English society, and although the plot doesn’t make a lot of sense, it matters not among the general merriment.
Gilbert was a great and witty wordsmith, Sullivan a brilliant musical foil in the 14 operettas they conceived together, and ‘Poor Wandering One’, the tongue-twisting ‘I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General’ and ‘When A Felon’s Not Engaged in His Employment’ are classics familiar to all G&S addicts.
Alex Weatherhill, a wonderful comic actor, steals the show as lovelorn spinster Ruth – no woman could have done it better – while Alan Richardson’s soprano for Frederic’s first-ever love Mabel, holding the notes perfectly to the end, is a remarkable achievement. Ben Irish’s Edith is an eye-catching creation in a smaller role but, in general, the singing is solid rather than spectacular.
Much use is made of the aisles, particularly by James Ward’s laconic police sergeant and his moustaches-on-sticks men, and Lizzi Gee’s madcap dance routines provoke much mirth.
For the rest, vocally it could have done with a bit more projection. Sitting only ten rows from the stage, I struggled to catch everything. Those sitting at the back or in the gods might well have wished for more amplification.
All alone on piano in a vast theatre, David Griffiths has to work hard yet still manages to make Sullivan’s music seem newly minted.
Robyn Wilson’s simple sets – coathanger clouds and stacked crates for the coast of Cornwall in Act I, pretty torchlight for the ruined chapel later on – catch the flavour of the piece and director Sasha Regan keeps the whole thing humming at such a lickety-spit pace that two hours simply fly by.
Jeremy Chapman
SHARE THIS POST:
Comments are closed.