Person: Briony Eida

Oliver!

‘Oliver!’ is a stage musical written by Lionel Bart, and adapted from Charles Dickens’ 1838 novel ‘Oliver Twist’. The tale of a young, innocent, orphaned workhouse boy, who falls in with thieves and pickpockets before finding his fortune, it premiered at the Wimbledon Theatre in 1960 before transferring to the New Theatre in St Martin’s Lane (Now the Noel Coward Theatre), opening on the 30 June that year and running for what was then a record 2,618 performances. It was the first musical based on a Charles Dickens story that had actually been a success in any real sense.

The musical, very much simplified from the book, contains song after song that will stay with you, catchy beyond belief, from ‘Food, Glorious Food’, ‘Consider Yourself’ and ‘I’d Do Anything’ to ‘Oom-Pah-Pah!’, ‘You’ve Got To Pick A Pocket Or Two’ and ‘Reviewing the Situation’. ‘As Long As He Needs Me’ is as powerfully emotional as anything that has ever been sung on a West End stage.

Bart, real name Lionel Begleiter and descended from Galician Jews, was called a musical genius at the age of just six. He started his songwriting in amateur theatre, and was eventually talent-spotted by Joan Littlewood and joined her Theatre Workshop. His golden era was the late fifties and early sixties, when he wrote hit records for Cliff Richard, Tommy Steele and Anthony Newley, picking up numerous Ivor Novello awards. He wrote the theme to the James Bond film ‘From Russia With Love’ in 1963. But despite earlier successes, it was ‘Oliver!’ that made him a truly household name. Funnily enough, Bart couldn’t read or write music. The music for ‘Oliver’ was transcribed by a man called Eric Rogers, famous for writing the music scores for twenty one of the ‘Carry On’ movies. Bart would would hum the tunes while Rogers wrote down the notes.

In 1969 the movie of ‘Oliver!’ was released, and one might have thought life was good for the composer. However, Bart’s follow-up musicals had failed to recapture the glory of his most famous show, with ‘Twang!!’ (opening in late 1965) closing after awful reviews, mostly empty houses, and only 43 performances. It was the most expensive flop the West End had ever seen up to that point and wiped out Bart’s personal fortune. Nor could ‘Oliver!’ help him out. He had sold the past and future rights to his show to entertainer Max Bygraves in 1959 for just £350.

Dazzle

In a world of multi-million dollar science-fiction movies, it’s a brave amateur theatre group who takes on a supposed ‘out of this world’ musical play that was intended to parody the much-loved TV series (and subsequent movies) of ‘Star Trek’. John Gardiner also wrote ‘The Dracula Spectacula’ which Workshop performed back in 1977, and would again, no doubt (at least in part) why Chris Argles chose it to direct. However, like its predecessor, the story is only very loosely based on its source material.

At some point in a far-flung future, Sam Galactic of the Star Blade Squadron is welcomed as a hero by Sekurikor, the President of Homeworld, and entrusted with his first command, that of the starship Sunburster One. He and his crew are then given the relatively mundane task of taking the president’s daughter, Dazzle Star, to a finishing school on Procyon. En route, they are intercepted by a Red Star vessel commanded by Big Olga, and then have Dazzle Star kidnapped by spacefaring Irish pirates, before finding out the true purpose of the mission. To complete it, and guarantee the future of mankind, Sam and Dazzle Star must throw themselves back in time to the 1960’s and survive an unlikely encounter with a greasy, leather-clad motorcycle gang led by the daunting Sue Zuki.

Of course, that’s only how it started out. Though the story may have remained much the same, Workshop took exception to a lot of the treatment meted out to the various characters. In the script, the ship’s doctor inexplicably sounded like one-time world champion boxer Muhammad Ali. That went. The random Irish pirates were ditched in favour of the classic Trek villains, Klingons, with all the gags that you can imagine the name entails, and their song became a spoof of ‘Pink Elephants On Parade’ from Walt Disney’s ‘Dumbo’ (Why? Ask Mark Taylor. But it was great fun.).The captain developed a middle initial to become Sam T Galactic. The ship lost a number and gained a ‘USS’ prefix, and the set of the ship’s bridge was as close to an exact copy of the original Enterprise as our limited budget could manage. The wardrobe guidelines were thrown out too, and in came fairly faithful reproductions of the classic Starfleet uniforms.

We boldly went where Samuel French didn’t expect us to go.

Smut’s Saga, or Santa and the Vikings!

Panto Viking fun. Nordic myth runs riot: valkyries, trolls, dwarves – and Father Christmas!

Long centuries divide the epic Norse saga from traditional pantomime, but the two genres share some similarities. Both are ritual entertainments in which time-honoured tales of derring-do, featuring a habitual cast of larger than life characters, are performed to delight a deeply involved audience.

This is an epic Norse saga set in a land of icy fjords and cold, grey seas. A tale of longships and trolls, Valkyries and Valhalla – but incorporating all the essential ingredients of traditional panto. Boundless audience participation, corny double-entendres, ingenious special effects, men dressed up as women, women dressed up as men. And all with the added bonus of a new story set against the vivid backdrop of Norse tradition – with no opportunity missed to exploit every Viking gag imaginable!

Wicked Viking Jarl, Smut the Smug, crosses the northern sea to ravage the coast of England, only to encounter rival Viking, Svein, Prince of the Blue Fjords, searching England for his Princess bride. The villain flees with no booty, except for three exceedingly naughty children, Tum, Dickon and Harald. But Smut is pursued back to his lair in Smutland by the children’s outraged and outrageous guardian, the indomitable Dame Dustpan, joined by Prince Svein, who agrees to help rescue the children in return for help tracking down his princess. But before they can complete their quest, our heroes have to outwit the monstrous Stoneheart, Lord of the Rock Trolls, and deal with Smut’s dotty but deadly accomplice, the witch, Helga Forkbeard.

Complete with mountains and fjords, dragonships, dwarves and giants, not to mention Santa Claus, the whole rich tapestry of Viking folklore is here. Skilfully blended with the enchantment, slapstick and audience participation of traditional pantomime.

The Crucible

Arthur Miller’s ‘The Crucible’ is one of the classics of 20th Century theatre. A fictionalised (or at least in part) account of the witch trials that took place between 1692 and 1693 in the small settlement of Salem, in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, New England. Miller wrote it in 1953 not as a historical piece, but as an allegory for McCarthyism, rampant at the time of his writing, where people were shamelessly persecuted for alleged Communist ties, without evidence. The accusation in and of itself was considered damning enough regardless of its origin, and there was the link to that earlier, dark time.

At best, ‘The Crucible’ was an ambitious reach for Workshop, but this was a ‘troubled’ production, as they call it in some circles. Originally slated to be the Spring 1990 production, it had been proposed by Christine Blake and Wendy Cole, who, it was intended, would co-direct. However, the project was almost completely derailed when both of them left the group. This left Paul Ford, who had been drafted in as an assistant director, to carry on in their stead but with no real vision for what the show should look like. One of the immediate difficulties was the presence in the cast of the key character of Tituba. Although her ultimate origin is disputed, it was thought that she was Barbadian, i.e. from the island of Barbados. No-one in the existing membership of the time could pass themselves off as such, and even in 1991, ‘blackface’ was a no-go. And so Paul elected to shift the entire thing into space. Salem became a settlement of puritan theocratic colony on a planet orbiting a distant star. It covered off the Tituba problem, but of course caused others.

The staging was abstract, geometric shapes painted to look as if they’d been scavenged from old starship hull-plating. They could be moved to form different combinations, which would represent various rooms and locations. An over-sized fan behind a grill turned throughout, with a ever-present ‘tic’ as its malformed blades hit the grill.

Despite some eventual outstanding performances, not least from the young girls in the cast, it nearly didn’t make it. The first weekend’s performances were billed as ‘previews’ as even at that last stage, the production was not pulling together. The review picked out that there were beautiful moments, and as ever, Madgwick was right. When it worked, there were some truly excellent scenes, but overall it really didn’t do the script justice.

The Sins of Cinderella

Running from 1976 to 1981 on BBC TV was a series now mostly forgotten. Called ‘Star Turn’ and broadcast on the Sunday tea-time slot, it was effectively a children’s version of the popular radio show ‘Give Us A Clue’. Hosts Bernard Cribbins and Graeme Garden would attempt to direct a gaggle of celebrities to undertake various challenges. One regular feature was a short audio play, with the all the participants gathered around a microphone to read the adventures of ace detective ‘Ivor Notion’. Each adventure would feature some form of crime (usually some form of theft, as this was kid’s TV after all, so no serial killers), and the guilty party would be found out by the studio audience by spotting three mistakes.

The script for one of these playlets was taken by Theatre Workshop Coulsdon to use as a showcase for some of our talented youngsters, and performed before the curtain went up for Lionheart! or The Arabian Knights. ‘The Sins of Cinderella’ was set backstage at a provincial theatre, the Gigglesborough Empire, where they’re trying to stage a pantomime. All does not go well, but who is guilty of more than crimes against acting?

Lionheart! or The Arabian Knights

Are you a sucker for the mysterious orient? Dashing bandits and svelte houris, idyllic oases and teeming souks, hawk-faced magicians, desert-defying caravans, corrupt Grand Viziers, gorgeous palaces, and Ray Harryhausen-style special effects? ‘Lionheart! The Arabian Knights’ is an eastern concoction into which every conceivable Arabian Nights cliché has been stirred, seasoned with a tiny twist of alternative history, and cunningly bound together in a traditional pantomime recipe, featuring lots of familiar ingredients and a dash of local flavour.

As part of his fiendish plot to defeat Richard the Lionheart, the evil Saladin sends his henchmen on a magic carpet to Merrie England, to abduct Richard’s Sweetheart, Thomasina. But Saladin’s bungling agents, Oshgosh and Babu, return instead with Thomasina’s irrepressible auntie, Dame Dollop – who quickly proves that the wicked Caliph has bitten off rather more than he can chew.

Thomasina meanwhile, travelling to join King Richard’s Crusade, encounters the dashing brigand, Hassan the Bandit. Hassan, (who may not be quite what he seems) is no friend to Saladin, and together with Thomasina they set out to rescue Auntie!

With the help of an assortment of genies, assassins, eunuchs, Turkish wrestlers, dancing girls and pantomime camels, Dame Dollop escapes from the harem to outwit Saladin, and allow Richard to recapture the holy city of Jerusalem, and all in time for Christmas Day!

A hilarious, original, and thoroughly entertaining pantomime, guaranteed to transport all involved to the land of the Arabian Nights.

Robin Hood – The Truth Behind The Green Tights

“Feared by the bad, loved by the good” goes the song about Robin Hood, but in the case of Albert Ross, the distinction is not quite so clear-cut. For Albert is a coward, transferring his allegiance from Merry Men to Sheriff and back again at the drop of a hat – or rather, at the point of a sword. All of which lands Albert, his wife, Robin and Maid Marian in some very awkward situations…

There are a number of extraordinarily brilliant adaptations of the story of Robin Hood. From Errol Flynn and Basil Rathbone’s still remarkable 1938 Hollywood movie ‘The Adventures of Robin Hood’, through to Michael Praed’s Celtic/pagan-tinged ‘Robin of Sherwood on TV from 1984 to 1986. ‘Robin Hood – The Truth Behind the Green Tights’ is not one of them. Written by David Neilson in 1984 and published the following year, the inclusion of ‘Will Scargill’ as a militant trade unionist member of the Merry Men may have had them rolling in the aisles then, when the Miners’ strike was fresh in the memory, but just a few years on that cutting edge topicality had been blunted beyond repair.

The inclusion of an everyman character into the mythical world of the legendary arboreal bandit could also have been a terrific idea, and indeed might still be one, but ‘Albert Ross’ with his out of place and not desperately funny name (Albert Ross / Albatross. Geddit?) was not it.

Tim did however provide a real moment of drama, a rarity in this show. During rehearsals with Richard and Paul as Gisbourne and The Sheriff, Tim stepped onto the thrust at the front of the stage only for it to collapse under him. Luckily the two others were right next to Tim, and caught him, one on either side, preventing his fall to the hall floor below. After all, we didn’t want to damage the parquet flooring…

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Theatre Workshop Coulsdon’s first flirtation with Shakespeare was, somewhat inevitably, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Although it seems such a staple of the theatre, both professional and amateur, its attractions are many and not the least of those is the ability to mould it, change it and make it unique to the group and the actors performing in it. Which suits TWC. The show itself, though undeniably funny, is an oddity, if you look at it with anything more than a scant glance. The event that draws it all together is the marriage of Theseus and Hippolyta, one the legendary slayer of the Minotaur, the other the Queen of the Amazons, and yes, in some versions of the myth of Theseus, these two characters did marry. But for all their lauded provenance, here they are ciphers, showing little real character in the few lines that they have at their disposal. The four lovers bear classical Greek names, all in accord with their part in the court of Athens, but the rude mechanicals do not despite being subjects of Theseus and working within Athens. Shakespeare drops the facade for these clowns, and calls them as they are, English tradesmen. One does wonder why, in Shakespeare’s mind, this division should exist, where the nobility have exotic names and the working classes not. Was he attempting to make them more identifiable to the groundlings? We may never know.

Two of the rude mechanicals would remain rude across two further TWC productions of ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Chris Argles, here showing us his ‘Bottom’, would go on to play ‘Peter Quince’ in 1996, and then ‘Tom Snout’, the tinker in 2016. Tim Young would move from playing ‘Peter Quince’, carpenter and frustrated amateur director and impresario, to ‘Snug the joiner’ in 1996. Clearly a part he enjoyed, he reprised it in 2016 too.

One other thing remained a constant. The donkey head. Created for this show by Caroline Dawe using chicken wire, papier mache and fur fabric, it adorned the heads of Chris Argles, Paul Ford and Richard Lloyd in successive productions, and remains in readiness for the next revival.

The overture to ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ was the Cello Concerto in E Minor by Edward Elgar. The interval music was ‘The Lark Ascending’ by Ralph Vaughan Williams.

All incidental music used during the production was traditional, arranged by Theatre Workshop Coulsdon, with the exception of ‘Philomel with Lullaby’, the music for which was composed by Mark Taylor.

The Christmas Cavalier

The Witchfinder-General, Roundheads and Cavaliers in a festive panto of Olde England!

From 1642 to 1651, there was a war between the King and his Parliament. Parliament won the war, and King Charles lost his head…

Set in the time when the puritan Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell, ruled England, this lively and magical panto opens with the arrival of dastardly Witchfinder-General Nicholas Grimnasty in a local village, intent on suppressing frivolous and ungodly Christmas festivities – and rooting out a few witches at the same time!

Grimnasty and his gormless Roundhead sidekicks, Matthew Smallpiece and the Stupid brothers, soon tangle with the outrageous Dame Dumplings, driving force behind the village Christmas party! Unfortunately, it’s not long before Dame Dumplings’ lovely niece Emma Sweetly has fallen foul of the wicked Witchfinder, and is thrown into Grimnasty’s grisly dungeon.

But the Witchfinder-General’s villainy comes to an extremely sticky end, after his efforts to spoil Christmas are thwarted by an unlikely alliance of Sir Daniel Dash, a bold and gallant cavalier, a dancing bear named Bottom, and three real witches, who could almost have wandered in from a certain blasted Scottish heath…

A brisk yet enchanting pantomime, offering a traditional festive flavour of Olde England, but played out before a very appealing and colourful new historical backdrop, with lots of excellent opportunities for most attractive costumes and settings.