Alistair David | Bouquets & Brickbats

30/12/25

Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester

It’s Philip’s birthday, and his lovely daughter and her husband have treated us to a night out at our favourite theatre. We were press-night regulars at Manchester’s Royal Exchange before we relocated to Edinburgh a decade ago, and we’ve never lost our love for the alien-like glass pod, squatting improbably amid the opulence of the old corn exchange. But we’re here for more than just the bricks and mortar, of course, and director Raz Shaw’s revival of Singin’ in the Rain offers a whole lot of nostalgic fun – as well as another chance to see the venue’s well-used water feature in action.

The show’s lead, Louis Gaunt, is off sick tonight, so understudy Adam Davidson steps into Don Lockwood’s black and white Gatsby brogues, impressing with his slick performance of this incredibly demanding role. He and Danny Collins (as Cosmo Brown) make a formidable duo, hoofing up a storm and delighting the audience with their dance moves.

Laura Baldwin plays Lockwood’s silent movie co-star, Lina Lamont, who refuses to accept two major facts: she doesn’t have the requisite talent to succeed in the newfangled ‘talkies’ and her engagement to Don is just a PR stunt. Baldwin nails the character of the petulant diva, imbuing Lina with just enough vulnerability to make us sympathise with her, despite her cruelty and hubris. Meanwhile, Carly Mercedes Dyer dazzles as Lina’s nemesis, Kathy Seldon, who is not only an accomplished singer and actor, but also Don’s true love. Dyer’s vocals are soaringly beautiful, making it easy to believe that studio boss RF Simpson (Julius D’Silva) wants to hire her, even if it means betraying Lina, his most bankable star.

The movie clips are cleverly staged, designer Richard Kent perfectly utilising the in-the-round performance space to suggest the rotating of the cinema reels. Captions are projected onto semi-circular boards framed with vanity lights, while Alistair David’s exuberant choreography reinforces the circularity. The use of blackouts and freeze-frames is wonderfully comic: this is a very playful musical, gently satirising not only the characters but also the theatrical conventions they employ.

It’s no mean feat to take a well-loved classic and render it so fresh and appealing. But Shaw’s sprightly production manages to do just that, allowing each of the big numbers (by Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freedby) enough space to shine. My only slight criticism comes courtesy of Betty Comden and Adolph Green’s original screenplay: I think the Broadway Ballet sequence at the start of the second act is far too long. Although the dancing is magnificent, I can’t help feeling it interrupts the narrative, akin to a self-indulgent drum solo in a live performance of a song. That niggle aside, I have nothing but praise for this sparkling show. Collin’s rendition of Make ‘Em Laugh is comic perfection, while the titular number is a vibrant spectacle. But be warned: if you’re in the first two rows, you’re really gonna feel the effects of that infamous water feature…

We couldn’t have asked for a better way to see out 2025. Happy New Year!

5 stars

Susan Singfield

04/10/23

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

There are some films that make the transition to stage musical against all the odds – and there are others that are clearly destined to be that very thing from the word go. 1992’s Sister Act, a comedy vehicle for the then rising star Whoopi Goldberg, definitely belongs in the latter category. Funny, irreverent and already packed with rousing gospel tunes, this feels like a natural progression.

Philadelphia, 1977. Deloris Van Cartier (Landi Oshinowo) is trying to make headway as a singer on the Philly soul scene and, when we first meet her, she’s auditioning at a nightclub owned by her shady boyfriend, Curtis (Ian Gareth-Jones). Curtis (who naturally is married) assures Deloris that she’s not quite ready for stardom and offers her one of his wife’s cast off fur coats as compensation. Deloris already has doubts about the wisdom of the relationship and this is compounded when she witnesses Curtis murdering one of his henchmen, whom he suspects is a police informant.

Deloris seeks help at the local police station, where she encounters former school chum and crush, ‘Steady’ Eddie Souther (Alphie Parker). Eddie wants Deloris to lie low until she can speak about the murder in court and he thinks he has the perfect hideout for her. It’s a convent, Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow, an ancient establishment that has fallen on hard times and is struggling to survive. It’s presided over by the acerbic Mother Superior (Lesley Joseph), who struggles to cope with Deloris’s potty mouth and, in an act of desperation, assigns her the task of coaching the convent’s resident choir, which is frankly terrible.

But Deloris has her own methods of coaxing the best performances out of the sisters and the results are startling to say the least.

What ensues is a slick, funny, exhilarating and sometimes uproarious sequence of events that never loses momentum. There’s so much here to relish. The vocal performances of Oshinowo – and of Lizzy Bea who plays the young noviciate, Sister Mary Robert – are simply thrilling to witness, their voices soaring over the sound of a live band. The resident nuns all have their own individual characters and I’m particularly impressed by Isabel Canning’s Sister Mary Patrick, whose enthusiastic twirls and gestures demonstrate the sheer exuberance of a woman discovering the joy of her own inner creativity.

The set and costume designs by Morgan Large are gorgeous, a wonderful mash up of stained glass and 70s kitsch, the many complex scene changes happening as if by magic. Alistair David’s choreography makes everything look effortless and Joseph demonstrates the kind of comic chops that have kept her treading the boards for so many years. And yes, maybe there is a big dollop of schmaltz thrown in for good measure, but hey, that’s no hardship.

By the finale, which features more sequins than seems humanly possible, I’m clapping along with the rest of the packed audience, loving every minute. The term ‘feel-good theatre’ is sometimes overused but I can’t think of a more appropriate description for Sister Act. This is a ton of fun.

4.2 stars

Philip Caveney