Person: Chris Blakeney

Grimm Tales (2001)

A collection of traditional European folk tales are here given a new lease of life, stripping away much of the saccharine coating so many have accumulated through adaptation for children’s books, TV and film. Yes, we’re looking at you, Disney.

We’ve chosen nine tales all told, each with it’s own director and unique music composition, from one of three talented musicians, Pete Bird, Dominic Russell and Mark Taylor. See the programme for full details. The nine stories are;

Ashputtel

The Golden Goose

The Lady and the Lion

A Riddling Tale

The Hare and the Hedgehogs

Hansel and Gretel

Little Red Cap

Rumplestiltskin

The Magic Table

We like to finish our open air shows with a song, where we can. For this production, we’ve chosen ‘Who’s The Fool Now?’, an old song, first published in 1580 but most certainly far older than that. It doesn’t come from a Grimm tale, but it is a song about tall tales, and it’s also a drinking song, which given we’re sitting in a pub beer garden seems very appropriate. Join in the chorus if you fancy.

A Christmas Carol

‘A Christmas Carol’ is a Victorian morality tale of an old and bitter miser, Ebenezer Scrooge, who undergoes a profound journey of redemption over the course of just one night. A financier and money-changer who has devoted his life to the accumulation of wealth, he holds anything other than money in contempt, including friendship, love and particularly the Christmas season. But when on Christmas Eve he is visited by the dread ghost of his former partner, Jacob Marley, and subsequently by other spirits who show him what his life has been before and what a bitter fate lies ahead of him, he is forced to make a decision that will change his life, and all those around him…

Sinbadaladdin

Sinbad sails into panto peril with Aladdin on board for laughs!

Sinbad the sailor, or Sinbad of the sea, was the hero of a series of stories outlining his seven voyages across and around the Indian Ocean. He came from Baghdad, now capital of Iraq, then the capital of the sprawling Abbasid Empire that stretched from Tunisia in the west to Pakistan in the East. The original tale of Aladdin is also set in the Middle East. And yet, in panto, this tale of a poor boy made good is landed in a Chinese laundry, surrounded by absurd cod-Chinese names and a mother, Widow Twankey, closer to the East End of London than the Far East. This has long been the case, since 1788 in fact, when John O’Keefe staged the first Aladdin pantomime at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.

Richard Lloyd has leant into the exotic influence, with his new pantomime mash-up featuring a significant flavour of the Orient (not the Leyton version). Wizards, pirates, genies, beautiful heroines and brave heroes abound, even if these last do look a lot like girls. Widow Twankee gets up to her usual mischief as manageress of the laundry – not so ably assisted by slopper-out Wishee-Washee, while the feisty Princess Jasmine steals Aladdin’s heart and risks the wrath of her father, the Sultan Ming the Mirthless and her ghastly mother, the Sultana No-Lo-Fat. The terrifying magician Abanazar, meanwhile, proves a formidable rival for Jasmine’s hand in marriage.

Songs, sorcery and silliness, with a touch or two of derring-do. Now that’s a pantomime, wherever it comes from.

The Comedy of Errors

Shakespeare’s ‘The Comedy of Errors‘ tells the unlikely story of two pairs of identical twins, separated while they are still babes in arms when shipwrecked. The father of one pair, Egeon, continues his search over the years for his missing son, and his search eventually takes him to Ephesus. Sadly, Egeon hails from Syracuse and at this time, his home city and Ephesus are at war. As a result, Egeon is sentenced to death, and has just 24 hours to raise a one thousand mark ransom to avoid the executioner’s axe. As a comedy, this is an unlikely start.

Egeon’s son, Antipholus, (the one that didn’t go missing) has also joined in the search for his brother. And coincidentally he also arrives in Ephesus, unaware of his father’s fate. He’s also unaware that his long-lost twin lives in Ephesus, like him a successful merchant. And so a sequence of events involving mistaken identities is set off, compounded by the even more unlikely situation that his manservant, Dromio, is also an identical twin. And that this twin, who strangely is also called Dromio, just happens to be the manservant of Egeon’s missing son, who by sheer coincidence is called Antipholus too. Because, well, they’re such common names. Honest.

There’s a lot of running around, slapstick violence, misconceived sexual encounters, accusations of theft and even demonic possession, certainly enough to consider this a pure farce, but the shadow of Egeon’s fate lingers across it all, and makes this something a bit deeper. In the end, all is well. Brothers cheerfully embrace and a husband discovers not only a lost son but a lost wife (who he seemingly spent little time looking for).

This was one of Shakespeare’s earliest plays, and also his shortest. The concept is clearly absurd, but it still retains a level of poignancy, and the broad strokes of humour are from time to time put aside to make way for lyrical verse the equal of which you might find in his most highly regarded dramas.

The music for the production was composed and performed by Pete Bird, the fifth such project he’s undertaken for the group. Inspired in part by the period dance tune ‘My Lady Hunsdon’s Puffe’ by the English lutenist John Dowland (1563-1626), whose works have been brought to wider public notice recently by Sting, Pete has attempted to create a sound reminiscent of a small chamber orchestra or string quartet. To that end he has played all the music you will hear, with the exception of the mandolin theme, which is played by Simeon Dawes.

Dick Barton – Special Agent

The star of the BBC’s first daily radio serial, private investigator and sometime Special Agent, Dick Barton appeared in in 711 episodes between 1946 and 1951 – the brainchild of BBC producer Norman Collins, who had of a visions of a ‘cloak and dagger soap opera’ broadcast every evening.

With his two sidekicks Jock and Snowy, Dick managed to get into some pretty tight scrapes – much to the delight of the listening audience but to the murmurings of stern disapproval from various clergymen of the day. Which seems strange, especially in hindsight, given that Dick’s adventures and last-moment escapes from deadly danger were all written and performed in accordance with a very strict code of conduct. No drinking, no swearing, no violence other than a good clean ‘sock to the jaw’ and even then only if evenly matched or outnumbered. Definitely no girlfriends or romantic associations, and no lying. If Dick needs to give chase to a fleeing villain in a conveniently available car, he must first ask the owner’s permission. No themes of horror should be used either, so no ghosts, vampires, other supernatural creatures or gorillas. (Yes, specifically no gorillas). It’s a wonder Dick managed anything more exciting than a trip to the shops.

Despite all this the show was a huge success, with, at its peak, 15 million listeners tuning in at 6.45pm each evening for 15 minutes of derring-do. The fast-paced, free wheeling adventures were just what post-war Britain was waiting for, and one-time commando Capt. Richard Barton MC was the hero of the hour. Or quarter of an hour, to be precise. However, the BBC were uncomfortable with their sensationalist success story, and when a new programme successfully debuted in a late morning slot in 1951, an everyday tale of life in a rural community, they quickly moved to replace the Special Agent with it. So for all the arch-foes and villains that Barton confronted, he was eventually killed off by ‘The Archers’.

An ill-fated attempt to bring back Barton to television in 1979 seemed to draw a far from discreet veil over any new adventures, but in 1998, Phil Wilmott wrote the musical ‘Dick Barton, Episode One – Special Agent’, part homage, part spoof, and with music from Stefan Bednarczyk, it was a roaring success when it debuted at the Croydon’s Warehouse Theatre, going on to tour Britain over the next couple of years. Since then there have been five sequels, the first two penned by Wilmott and then Duncan Wisbey took the reins

And now, it’s our turn to take on the mac and trilby of upright and uptight British manliness. Warning. The code of conduct will be disobeyed frequently.

During one of the Sunday set-building sessions for ‘Dick Barton’, Julian Cooper, who had been a well-liked part of the group in a backstage capacity for a number of years, suffered a sudden massive heart attack. Despite the efforts of both TWC members and ambulance crew to resuscitate him, Julian was pronounced dead on arrival at Mayday Hospital in Croydon. He was just 43. The play was dedicated to his memory.

Kidnapped At Christmas

Christmas Eve. And banged up again are the gormless Crosby and Gilbert, two life-long criminals who are bemoaning their fate in the nick. Tomorrow will be the regulation prison Christmas dinner, greasy chicken, clammy sprouts and lumpy potatoes. The thought is too much to bear, they must escape! And with the aid of the audience, a spider and some not very bright prison warders, escape they do.

However, that’s just the start of their adventures. When they break into a house to escape the awful weather, they think they’ve lucked in, but actually it’s the home of Detective Constable Grummett, the man who’s been tasked with recapturing them. Worse, Grummett’s son Alexander is there and he’s not frightened of them one bit. Even worser, he’s got a gun. Worstest yet, when the lights go out suddenly, young Alex has been kidnapped, and guess who are the prime suspects?

A fast-paced and silly family entertainment with bucketloads of broken fourth wall and audience participation, follow Crosby and Gilbert’s misadventures as they become Olympic athletes, take on the horror of Frankenstein’s monster and even solve a crime! Yes, really!

And do they get a decent Christmas dinner? That would be telling.

The Hunchback Of Notre Dame – The Panto

 

‘The Hunchback of Notre Dame’ was originally a novel by celebrated French writer Victor Hugo, first published in 1831. Set in 15th Century Paris, it centres on the unrequited love that Quasimodo, the deformed bell-ringer of the famous cathedral, has for Esmerelda, a beautiful Romani dancer. Sadly, she only has eyes for the handsome captain Phoebus of the King’s archers, but unknown to the young girl, Phoebus is vain, untrustworthy and a womanizer. Esmeralda’s beauty has also attracted two other men, a poet, Gringoire, and the darkly motivated arch-deacon of Notre Dame Cathedral, Claude Frollo, who is also Quasimodo’s guardian. It’s an epic tale of misplaced love, exploring themes on social marginalisation and even the power of architecture, and ends in tragedy. So, absolutely perfect for a TWC panto then!

With the addition of broker’s men Ratatouille and Cassoulet, not to mention the uproarious Frottez LaToilette well and truly putting the Dame into Madame, this is great French literature as you’ve never seen it before! (let’s not even talk about the Disney cartoon, eh?) Oh, and the goat? Jingli Jangli? Not Mr Lloyd’s invention. Victor Hugo gave us Djali the goat (we changed the name to protect the innocent) on whom Gringoire becomes oddly fixated, with tragic results. Ah, the French. Qu’est-ce que c’est?

 

Jack The Ripper (2006)

Is it lazy to return to a play that you’ve staged before?

Or maybe – like revisiting a favourite book or film – there’s more to be explored and enjoyed a second, or even third time around?

Theatre Workshop Coulsdon first staged Ron Pember and Denis De Marne’s ‘Jack the Ripper’ back in 1983. We went back to it just eight years later in 1991. Cumulatively, we’ve probably paid enough in licencing fees to send the two authors on a good long holiday. Many of the 1991 cast are performing again is this production. Three of the 1983 cast are here too, young theatre pups now turned grizzled stage veterans. Richard Lloyd has played the ruffian Daniel Mendoza in all three!

So why do we keep coming back? Frankly, because it’s an exhilarating show to be a part of. It’s got great songs, songs you remember and hum along to, or even sing out loud, long after the final curtain has dropped. Mainly though, it’s just a very TWC kind of show. It’s brash, irreverent and a little (little?) over the top. It feels as if it were written for us.
 
When we first put ‘Jack the Ripper’ on, it was considered an obscure and somewhat controversial choice. Since then, it’s become something of regular staple on the amateur theatre circuit, but we haven’t let that put us off. This show was meant to treated in the rough and ready manner of the seedy East End it portrays, not with the polite diffidence of a well-trained light-operatic group. It’s rumbustiuous, down and dirty, leaning into the coarser side of the music hall tradition. We’ve seen others take this on, and when they’ve treated it as a finely sung choral piece, it loses its heart, and almost inevitably falls flat.
 
Of course, the subject matter might not be to everyone’s taste. Making a musical out of history’s most notorious serial-killer must count as an act of potentially dubious taste, even after well over a century. The original West End run of the show was cruelly short, perhaps for that very reason. And yet the mystery and murders of Jack the Ripper remain very much part of the cultural psyche of Britain, and probably further afield. Fresh films, documentaries, TV series, radio dramas appear on a regular basis. The hunger for ‘Jack’ is insatiable, or so it seems. The criminal, who most claim was never caught, has moved from simple mystery to almost the stuff of legend.
 
So, tonight, step in to the Steam Packet Music Hall and be hideously entertained. But watch your step on the way home, alright?

Pride At Southanger Park

A delightfully off-the-wall one act play, drawing on and spoofing mercilessly the literary world of Jane Austen. This ‘previously undiscovered 18th Century classic’ has been rehearsed meticulously, and yet, in the vein of ‘The Play That Goes Wrong’, a continuing sequence of disasters befalls the hapless actors who try desperately to recover their composure, their wits and their lines. The show really must go on, despite everything, and we mean everything.

Performed on just the one night, ‘Pride at Southanger Park’ formed part of an entertainment entitled ‘A Evening of Cod and Ham’, featuring a two-part quiz devised and hosted by Julian Cooper, along with music and a fish and chip supper.