ONSTAGE
It probably won’t have escaped your notice over the last few days that the BBC and many of its viewers are celebrating the 60th anniversary of the long running Dr Who, which first appeared in 1963. In the same year, equally innovative and just as enduring in its own way came the original stage production of Theatre Workshop’s Oh What A Lovely War. If the early 60s satire boom led by Beyond The Fringe had shown how to take apart contemporary society, Joan Littlewood and her redoubtable company spearheaded the dismantling of the powers that be from the (then) reasonably recent past. Initially banned from the West End by the censor until Princess Margaret bestowed her seal of approval, the show sent shock waves through the Establishment by exposing the madness and futility of the First World War (and, by extension, all war). And now, alongside the Whoniverse, there’s another diamond jubilee to celebrate as Blackeyed Theatre’s touring production of the show reaches the capital at Southwark Playhouse.
OWALW takes a chronological overview of the “war to end all wars” (well, that worked out well didn’t it?) looking at the experiences of the common soldiers and those they left behind. The soul and life destroying mayhem they endured is constantly highlighted and the finger of blame is pointed squarely at the power hungry political leaders and get rich quick capitalists who plunged the world into turmoil (any similarity to the recent pandemic is, of course, entirely coincidental). Even worse are the military leaders who treat the troops as cannon fodder and sacrifice a whole generation to try and assert their dominance. Much of this scathing exposé is presented through clowning, songs of the era and satirical sketches developed as a series of vignettes and set against a backdrop of projected images and the ever mounting horrific casualty figures.
There is generally a breezy jauntiness about this production which keeps the audience engaged even as they learn some stark truths but director Nicky Allpress knows all the right buttons to press when the mood needs to be more sombre and reflective. The cast of just half a dozen are on top form with both the women (Alice E. Mayer and Chioma Uma) giving particularly good accounts of themselves in the musical numbers. Not only do the sextet all act strongly and sing excellently but also set scenes with military precision (drilled well by Adam Haigh) and buzz purposefully around backstage changing characters and adding to the ragged Pierrot costumes of Naomi Gibbs. As if that weren’t enough, in addition they handle all the instrumentation; not does this mean that they keep to one instrument each. Rather, as they do with the multitude of characters they play, they hop with apparent ease from piano to drums to double bass to trumpet to accordion (etc., etc., etc) and don’t even give themselves much of a break during the interval preferring instead to maintain the circus-like atmosphere by playing on throughout.
This is an extremely well disciplined ensemble, no doubt enhanced by the lengthy number of dates already played, but you get the impression that they would be quick off the mark with any necessary improv and that they are fully supportive of each other throughout. Invidious though it undoubtedly, is I’m going to single out Harry Curley as my “man of the match”. He takes a tour round the British Isles to become an Englishman, an Irishman and a Scotsman, as well as a hypocritical padre, a toffee nosed diplomat, a number of ordinary squaddies and, best of all a gobbledygook spouting drill sergeant whose hilarious routine all but stops the show. With the air of a young Robin Wiliams, his CV is currently short but will, I would predict, become much more substantial ere long.
It’s good to see a musical production which doesn’t rely on amplification though I must confess to losing the occasional lyric in the songs. It was also the case, from where I was sitting anyway (far stage right if that helps) that sightlines were not at their best particularly at the end of the first half when the cast were sitting in the trenches; I could hear the dialogue but not see any of the actors. Those niggles aside this was a strong production of a legendary show which is difficult to pull off and get the balance right. Back in the day I certainly recall the excitement of seeing William Hartnell stepping through the doors of the Tardis for the first time but cannot claim the same about OWALW even if it was playing at a theatre just a couple of miles down the road from where I lived. It seems with the state of the world today that there are still lessons to be learned from this most seminal of shows,
Production photos by Alex Harvey-Brown
Oh What A Lovely War is at Southwark Playhouse (Borough) – click here
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