Carly Mercedes Dyer | 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

11/05/22

Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

Until tonight, I’m only aware of Anything Goes as the ‘rubbish’ musical that drama teacher Mr G bins off when he’s left in charge of the school play in Summer Heights High – in order to replace it with a highly questionable self-penned piece (Mr G is not a reliable barometer). Of course, I have gleaned a few clues from the poster (definitely nautical) and from Bonnie Langford’s billing (all-singing, all-dancing), although Simon Callow’s presence is more of a puzzle. And, sadly, Simon Callow isn’t present tonight, so I never get to solve that particular enigma. Still, his understudy, Clive Heyward, puts in an excellent turn as boozy gazillionaire Elisha Whitney, truly owning the role.

Anything Goes, it turns out, is exactly the sort of old-fashioned glitz-and-glamour musical I like the best, with lots of big, bold choreography, and a galumphing Cole Porter score. Of course, the story is nonsensical and ridiculously contrived, but it hardly matters: the plot is just a vehicle for the performances.

Reno Sweeney (Kerry Ellis) is a nightclub singer/evangelist, booked to entertain passengers on luxury ocean liner, the SS American. She is infatuated with Whitney’s assistant, Billy (Samuel Edwards), but he’s hopelessly in love with debutante Hope (Nicole-Lily Baisden). Hope loves him too, but she’s betrothed to bumbling English toff, Lord Evelyn Oakleigh (played by the aptly named Haydn Oakley, presumably no relation). Hope’s mother, Evangeline Harcourt (Langford), won’t allow her to call off the engagement, because Evelyn is rich, and the Harcourts are on their uppers. Throw in a couple of gangsters called Moonface and Erma (Denis Lawson and Carly Mercedes Dyer), put ’em all on the ship, and let the mayhem begin…

Reno is a demanding role, but Ellis is a prime example of a ‘triple threat’ – not only imbuing the evangelist with spark and charm, but also showcasing her impressive singing voice – all while hoofing it up with the best of them in some very peppy dance routines. She’s perfectly cast. Oakley is also delightfully amiable as Evelyn, effortlessly winning our sympathy. Co-book-writer PG Wodehouse’s imprint is all over this character, and Oakley makes the most of the opportunity to Bertie Wooster his way through the tale. Mercedes Dyer is another standout, dazzling both ship’s crew and audience alike with her sassy attitude.

The set (by Derek McClane) is pretty awe-inspiring, with a joyful nautical aesthetic and a real sense of scale: the ship feels vast and imposing.

But really, this is all about the big numbers, and director-choreographer Kathleen Marshall has pulled out all the stops. The ensemble cast is huge, and there is a palpable sense of a busy ocean liner, bursting with energy. It’s an unabashed celebration of theatricality, and I am absolutely spellbound by the extended version of the title song that ends the first act: the tap dancing is sublime. The second act quickly leads to another high, the fabulous Blow, Gabriel, Blow: it’s a real spectacle.

There’s nothing deep and meaningful to ponder here – except perhaps the strange nature of what constitutes “celebrity” – but that’s really not the point. If you’re after a bit of pure distraction, with some effortlessly glorious song and dance, then Anything Goes certainly fits the bill. Don’t listen to Mr G!

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield