The Producers

 

The Producers was Mel Brooks’ first ever movie back in 1968. Starring Zero Mostel as Max and Gene Wilder as Leo, it became both a cult and a commercial success, and Brooks even picked up an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay. An improbable hit as a movie, it was an even less likely one as a Broadway musical, which Brooks did in 2001. A byword for tongue-in-cheek bad taste, it became the most successful Broadway show of all time, winning a record breaking 12 Tony awards and running for more than 2,500 performances over six years. And then art imitated art, as a movie of the musical based on a movie came out in 2005, starring Nathan Lane, Matthew Broderick and Uma Thurman.

Born into a German Jewish family who fled the Nazis in the 1930’s, Mel Brooks was uniquely qualified to poke merciless fun at the Third Reich. Frankly, it’s impossible to believe that anyone without his background could have got away with it. Then again, the whole premise of a couple of Jewish con-men staging a sure-fire Broadway flop based on a camp musical about Adolf Hitler is so absurd, it would be difficult for anyone to take genuine offence. Besides, Brooks has many targets for his satire in The Producers – not least the whole shallow pretentious ‘bubble’ of Broadway itself. (Which is rather ironic, as it turns out, given the huge success of the show.)

The Producers is an extraordinary musical. Set in New York in 1959, the one-time ‘King of Broadway’, Max Bialystock, sees his latest show ‘Funny Boy’ close after just one night. Down and out, dependent on playing the aging lothario to wealthy but very elderly spinsters and widows, Max is thrown a lifeline back to success and the high life in the unlikely form of timorous accountant, Leo Bloom. Bloom discovers that a flop show can make more money than a hit, and so the two set out to lie, cheat and schmooze their way to a million bucks by staging a sure-fire Broadway flop – the worst taste musical ever written: ‘Springtime For Hitler’. The rest is showbiz history. Bursting with laugh-out-loud jokes and outrageously funny musical numbers, The Producers is pure, unadulterated joy.

Now it’s fair to say that Theatre Workshop Coulsdon are not, first and foremost, a musical group. But we do like projects that are a bit unexpected. So we’ve rescued ‘The Producers’ from the cold dead clutches of of the light-operatic am-dram circuit, and given it the down-and-dirty TWC makeover it deserves. We aren’t dancers, we aren’t singers. We don’t have the required 37-piece orchestra. But we do have a bunch of talented musicians and chutzpah to spare, and what could be more in keeping with the spirit of Mel Brooks than that? We hope you enjoy the show!

 

Twelfth Night – The Panto

We’re sticking to a Shakespearean theme for Christmas, with another original TWC panto, this time based (very loosely) on “Twelfth Night”, but with added slapstick, men dressed as women (dressed as men), “oh no it isn’t”, and “oh yes it is”. It’s a riotously funny pantomime full of unexpected twists and turns. Forget Illyria – a freak storm blows a day-trip to Boulogne way off course. Six months later it’s shipwrecked on the coast of Australia. Auntie Podees and her niece, Sheila, have to find work disguised as men to earn their passage back to Coulsdon. Meanwhile, Lord Sydney Opera-House unsuccessfully pursues the love of his life, Lady Alice-Springs (most beautiful lady in the world – and incidentally, the wealthiest). Can Sheila help? Will the principal boys win the hearts of the principal girls? Will the barbie be a success? Are there any gags about Aussies we haven’t plundered and mercilessly exploited? And will the three witches be too evil to be allowed onstage and exiled forever to make tea and serve mince pies? To find the answers to these and many other mosquitoes (sorry, misquotes) don’t miss Coulsdon’s bonza pantomime, a show so big, it needs two dames…

As You Like It

Ever been young and in love? Shakespeare must have been, because this is a play that understands the sheer giddy joy of love, and the desperate lengths it can drive us to. ‘As You Like It’ is sometimes seen as a counterpoint to ‘Romeo and Juliet’ – love as comedy rather than tragedy. Rosalind is certainly no pale and wan Juliet, but arguably Shakespeare’s most memorable heroine. She has more lines than Juliet, Cleopatra, Beatrice and Portia, any of them. Maybe Shakespeare was just a little in love with his own creation. And who could blame him? She’s the kind of girl you’d want to spend time with, vital; brave; clever; funny and devoted. Oh, a bit of a liability too, of course, but fun to be around.

So, what’s the story? Well, firstly, there are two Dukes. The ‘good’ Duke, called Senior, has been toppled from power by his very own brother, the ‘bad’ Duke, Ferdinand. Senior is then exiled to the nearby Forest of Arden, where he seems to enjoy a carefree life hunting, shooting, fishing and singing. It seems that banishment has been more of a blessing than a curse. Meanwhile his brother’s court is an altogether darker place, full of gossip, scheming and suspicion. Now, each of the Dukes has a daughter, and the two girls are inseparable friends. It’s this that has initially prevented Rosalind from being exiled along with her father, but when Ferdinand finally casts her out, both she and Ferdinand’s daughter Celia run away. Of course, by this point, love has raised its head, and Rosalind has fallen for Orlando, a young man at court being persecuted by his less than pleasant older brother. Thankfully, he’s in love with her too, so when she leaves court for the Forest, he follows. However, Rosalind has now disguised herself a boy, calling herself ‘Ganymede’, and it’s in this form that Orlando finds her and in classic style, doesn’t recognise her. To make things more convoluted, Sylvius the shepherd boy is besotted with Phoebe, who in turn only has eyes for Ganymede!

Themes such as the liberating power of love, sibling rivalry and restitution, the healing force of nature and the simple pleasures of country life are all explored here, despite the plot being frankly ludicrous at times. And there’s a happy ending. Several in fact, as brothers are no longer at odds, lovers have put aside disguise and all is well. Except perhaps for Jaques, who has been melancholy throughout and decides ultimately to go off and be miserable in a monastery. You can’t please everyone.

The text has been trimmed in TWC’s version. Many topical gags that no doubt had them rolling in the groundlings back in 1599 are now impenetrable, and worse, not funny. If you’re a purist, prepare for disappointment, but it’s for the greater good.

There are more songs in ‘As You Like It’ than any other Shakespeare play. We’ve kept them and set them to traditional tunes. One of them, ‘What Shall He have That Killed The Deer’, shares many of its lyrics with ‘Hal-An’Tow’, the traditional Cornish May song. The version here is an amalgam of the two, complete with its reference to defeating the Spanish Armada, which at the time the play was first performed had happened just ten years previously. Many thanks are due to Jeannie Lewis who led the arrangement of all the songs and incidental music, and with the other musicians will be playing live on stage throughout the run of the show.

The Trial

‘The Trial’ tells the tale of Josef K, a man unexpectedly arrested by an unknown authority for an unspecified crime, and the story follows his increasingly desperate attempts to negotiate a labyrinthine legal process and an untouchable, unreachable court, while never finding out what it is that he has been accused of.

Kafka started to write ‘The Trial’ in August 1914 and continued on through 1915, despite the outbreak of war. Like his other two novels he never completed it, and it was only after his death in 1924 that it was published. His haphazard method of writing saw the novel take shape across a number of different notebooks, all being used simultaneously. When Kafka’s friend Max Brod eventually persuaded him to surrender the ‘manuscript’ (Kafka had a habit of destroying his own work, which Brod was trying to prevent) he was given 161 loose pages, gathered into chapters, but no clue as to what order the chapters should be in. It does have a beginning, and though abrupt, it certainly has an end, but though Brod, and later, others, have edited the work, it remains unclear what Kafka’s true plan was.

This uncertainty has been a fertile ground for dramatic interpretation over the years. In 1962, Orson Welles filmed a version with Anthony Perkins as Josef K, while Steven Berkoff presented his own unique and experimental take in 1970, with elements of physical theatre and mime, verging on the surreal. Tom Basden, who would also go on to adapt Dario Fo’s ‘Accidental Death of an Anarchist’, presented a new version in 2010 set in modern day London called ‘Joseph K’, where the main protagonist was a City banker.

Lucy-Ann Martin’s adaptation here certainly draws inspiration from Berkoff, notably in its use of physical theatre, and the employment of an ensemble cast. As each actor moves on to another role within the story, the intention is to underline the facelessness of the authority that Josef K finds himself hopelessly and inexplicably at odds with. His relationship with those he encounters on the twisting path of the system he is forced to take is polarised. Men only serve to confuse, presenting a series of barriers or problems that prevent him from obtaining justice. Women are a weakness for him, though he seems to be endowed with some form of unexplained allure which he uses not simply to satiate his desires but advance his cause. If this makes our Josef something less than the total innocent, then perhaps this is because nobody is completely without guilt, now are they? And then the driver becomes not simply what am I charged with, but what do they know, and paranoia takes its insidious hold.

The Fairytale of New York

Melodrama, magic and mystery set in the riotous world of 1930’s Vaudeville.

A festive treat with a difference. A dash of ‘Annie’, a twist of ‘Cabaret’, and great big helpings of melodrama, mystery and rip-snorting comedy. Plus some of the greatest songs from the shows you could ever wish for. A great family entertainment for all ages.Macey Maguire has a dream – she’s going to make it big on Broadway. Arriving penniless in New York, Macey gets a break at Delancey’s, the city’s last Vaudeville theater. Soon she’s rubbing shoulders with the troupe of variety artists who ply their trade in the old music hall. But the public’s appetite for burlesque is on the wane, the theater’s finances are on the rocks, and the entertainers are squabbling like rats in a sack. Organised crime wants the real estate the theater’s built on, and worse still, members of the company keep disappearing into thin air… And nobody – not the theater management nor the New York Police Department – can figure out where they go. But they’ve all reckoned without Macey Maguire…

The Changeling

Licensed on 7 May 1622, The Changeling, by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley, is widely seen as one of the best plays of the Jacobean era (the reign of King James I). It’s a violent, baroque tale that manages to be both funny and horrific in its parallel plots.

Beatrice-Joanna – spoilt, rich, beautiful – is blinded by desire for Alsemero, but betrothed to Piracquo. To rid herself of her unwanted fiancé, she enlists Deflores – a disfigured servant who both repels and fascinates her. But Deflores has desires of his own, and Beatrice-Joanna has no idea of the terrible price he will exact.

Meanwhile, in the asylum, a pair of noblemen masquerade as lunatics to have their wicked way with the madhouse-keeper’s young wife. This comic plot holds up a mirror to the main plot, offering an alternative take on the same themes of madness and infatuation.

Who is the changeling of the title? Well superficially, it’s Antonio, one of the madhouse imposters. But the true changeling is Beatrice-Joanna – the young noblewoman who  inexplicably turns into an amoral monster. In Middleton and Rowley’s England, people would have had no hesitation in blaming witchcraft for such a sudden, total collapse of character. Including the substitution of an apparently dutiful and virtuous daughter by some evil surrogate or changeling.

The playwrights know better of course. They deftly show how a few fateful steps take an impressionable young mind from the delirium of love to dangerous obsession. But is Beatrice-Joanna deluded, deranged or simply hapless? Does she really make the fatal mistake of engaging a contract killer without understanding the nature of the contract? Is she a spoilt little rich girl, whose game of dare spirals out of control, or a calculating sociopath? This central riddle is one reason why The Changeling remains such a compelling thriller, four centuries after it was first performed.

Middleton and Rowley

Like Shakespeare, Thomas Middleton (1580-1627) was a successful jobbing playwright in the flourishing heyday of the early English theatre. He turned out dozens of plays, masques and pageants between 1602 and 1624. He collaborated with, amongst many others, Shakespeare himself, and is known to be responsible for parts of several of Shakespeare’s plays including Macbeth and The Winter’s Tale.

Middleton is generally credited with the tragic main plot of The Changeling, whilst Rowley is thought to be responsible for much of the comic sub-plot. But the hand of each man is also present in sections of the play attributed to the other. Middleton in particular had forged a style very much of his own, turning the conventional ‘aside’ into a parallel reality where characters converse with each other whilst sharing their thoughts with the audience – an intriguing subversion of the theatrical convention of his day.

Middleton was ahead of his time in his writing style too. He was capable of superb verse. But in The Changeling his dialogue is spare, gritty and workaday – more natural and immediate than Shakespeare’s. In fact, the play owes much to changes which coincided with the end of Shakespeare’s career. By the 1620’s, the outdoor Elizabethan playhouses had closed. The Changeling, first staged at The Cockpit in Drury Lane, forms part of a later genre known as ‘Revenge Tragedy’. These plays were tailored for cramped indoor theatres – hot, claustrophobic, and lit only by guttering candles. Small wonder The Changeling seems so gothic, shadowy and stifling.

That said, Middleton and Rowley’s setting of ‘Alicante’ owes very little to Spain, and a great deal  to the London the authors knew so well. With the asylum in particular, we are clearly in London’s Bedlam, and being royally entertained – as Londoners were – by madness.

Dracula

A bloody, poetic and sexually-charged interpretation of the world’s most infamous horror story!

Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’ wasn’t the first Gothic Horror tale (that honour falls to Horace Walpole’s ‘The Castle of Otranto’ published over a century before) but it is, arguably, the most famous exponent of the genre, though it has stiff competition in Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’, R L Stevenson’s ‘Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mister Hyde’ and Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’. However, none have quite the strange sexual allure that the Transylvanian aristocrat has, even to this day. This creature, for human he most certainly isn’t, should be repulsive, but yet the opposite is true. The vampire has taken on an eerie glamour, coupled with a sense of tragedy. Hence the success of Anne Rice’s ‘Vampire Lestat’ books and the ‘Twilight’ series by Stephanie Meyer.

Of course, folkloric vampires predate Dracula by centuries, with demons showing what we would consider to be vampiric ways and practices noted by the Romans, Mesopotamians and the Ancient Greeks. But these creatures were ruddy, or purplish in colour, and bloated from the drinking of blood, a far cry from the slim, pale skinned figures we associate with the term now. And frankly a lot less sexy.

Liz Lochead is a Scottish playwright and poet who adapted ‘Dracula’ for the stage in 1985. She made a number of changes to the tale, but then reducing a novel of several hundred pages down to a workable two act play was always going to require that. Lucy Westernra and Mina Murray became sisters sharing the surname Westerman. Arthur Holmwood, also known as Lord Godalming, and American Quincey Morris, two of Lucy Westernra’s suitors, are excised from the script while Renfield’s part is expanded on. In come new characters, such as Nurses Grice and Nisbett, as well as Orderly Drinkwater, at Dr Seward’s asylum, and to add a working class voice to the narrative, Florrie Hathersage, the Westerman’s maid. Across the whole script, the language has been updated to provide a level of humour and innuendo, while focusing on female sexuality and madness.

Do the changes work? Certainly Renfield’s character, and the story, benefits from the extra time spent with him. He’s more articulate, even sympathetic. A victim who can see his own doom coming. Mina though is something less in this version. Pared back, she’s no longer the architect of Dracula’s downfall, nor is Lucy any the stronger for having been reshaped for the late 20th Century. Dracula remains however, untouched, his presence throughout underlined by over a century of cultural familiarity.

Dark Deeds at St. Mildred’s

Welcome to ‘Dark Deeds at St Trynian’s’ – a homage to the St Trinian’s books created by the cartoonist Ronald Searle (1920 – 2011) between 1941 and 1954. Searle’s cartoons were hugely popular – the antithesis on the Enid Blyton-type posh girl’s boarding school; its pupils are wicked and well-armed, and mayhem is rife. The Gothic cartoons often showed the dead bodies of girls who had been skewered with pitchforks, tortured by their classmates, or succumbed to violent team sports. Searle started to draw these cartoons whilst a prisoner of war of the Japanese. Perhaps it was his way of dealing with the unimaginable horror.

Four movies, based on Searle’s cartoons, were made between 1954 and 1966. There was a remake in 1980 and another in 2007. St Trinian’s is portrayed as an unorthodox girls school where sex, smoking, drinking and gambling aren’t on the curriculum – but they’re not exactly frowned upon either. The girls come in two categories: the Fourth Form, most closely resembling Searle’s original drawings of ink-stained, ungovernable pranksters, and the much older Sixth Form, sexually precocious to a degree that must have seemed alarming in 1954 (one of the girls is even married). The Fourth Form includes a number of much younger girls who are the most ferocious of all. The rule of thumb is that the smaller a St Trinian’s girl, the more dangerous she is – especially with a lacrosse or hockey stick in her hands.

Sadistic, cunning, dissolute, crooked, sordid and capable of any excess, the films implied that the girls were mainly the daughters of well-off gangsters, crooks, shady bookmakers and other low-lifes.

Our production is loosely based on some of the characters from the St Trinian’s books and movies, but with a wholly home-grown script and story. Firmly set in a comfy, non-specific era of post-war nostalgia sometime around the middle of the last century, it bears no resemblance to the recent ‘updated’ movies of St Trinian’s. (Sorry about that, if you were expecting Girls Aloud…)

Lords and Ladies

It’s a hot midsummer’s night in the tiny kingdom of Lancre, up in the far northern hill country of Discworld. Crop circles are turning up everywhere, bursting like raindrops, a portent of wayward magic leaking into the land from between the standing stones known as ‘The Dancers’.

Magrat Garlick, witch, is getting married in the morning – to King Verence of Lancre no less. The wizards of the Unseen University are journeying north from the great city of Ankh-Morpork to bless the union, and the Lancre All-Comers Morris Team have been lined up to stage a rustic entertainment for the happy couple. In short, everything should be going like a dream.

But all is not well in Lancre. Elves, long banished from the human realm are pushing at the iron boundaries of their barren winter land, bringing with them all those things traditionally associated with the magical, glittering realm of faerie: cruelty, kidnapping, malice and murder.

‘The Dancers’ form the gateway between the two worlds, and for many years, Granny Weatherwax and her tiny argumentative coven have worked to keep that portal tightly closed. But now a new coven, led by the young, ambitious and wilful Diamanda (real name Lucy Tockley, but Diamanda sounds so much better) are determined to overturn the old order…

And when the Lancre morris team gets seriously drunk on a fairy mound, all Hell is ready to break loose. In short, it’s a festival of dwarves, wizards, trolls, morris dancers – plus an orang-utan, with a fair helping of hey-nonny-nonny and blood all over the place… We hope you enjoy tonight’s performance!

A big thank you to Debbie Bradshaw and Katy Tupholme at Bluetree Design and Print of Rotherham for designing our posters for the production, and to Mark Lewis and Nick Hewson at Mastercolour of Tunbridge Wells for printing them.

‘Lords and Ladies’ (1992) is adapted from the comic fantasy novel by prolific author Terry Pratchett, his fourteenth set on Discworld, and the fourth to feature the Lancre coven of witches led by the redoubtable Esmerelda ‘Esme’ Weatherwax, a character who Pratchett clearly enjoyed revisiting. Astonishingly successful, he sold over 100 million copies of his books, forty-one of which were Discworld novels, and he was awarded first the OBE in 1998 and then a knighthood in 2009. He died at the age 66, from complications relating to Alzheimer’s Disease, which he had been diagnosed with in 2007.
 
Following on from ‘Wyrd Sisters’ in 1995 and ‘Mort’ in 1997, ‘Lords and Ladies’ is the third stage adaptation of a Discworld novel that Theatre Workshop Coulsdon have undertaken, and any similarities to Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ are purely intentional. Nor is it a coincidence that all three have been directed by Mike Brown.

The She-Wolves Of Doctor Schlock

But if we fail, we will sink into the abyss of a new dark age made more sinister by the lights of perverted science.”        Sir Winston Churchill, 18th June 1940

Wilkommen zu der Schloss Schlockhöfen… an eerie, isolated fortress, perched on a precipitous crag rising from the trackless Bavarian forest. The retreat and laboratory of the mysterious, reclusive Doktor Hieronymus Schlock, sometime scientific genius of the long fallen Reich…

That’s the setting for this B-movie musical schlock horrorfest – a hearty soup of pulp-horror goodness. A tongue-in-cheek melange of mad scientists, zombies, nymphomanic werewolves and gung-ho lost patrols. All spiced up with a risqué dash of sub-S&M gender-bending!

Barney Bridgework and Diane Dentine of CDBDBN Broadcast News are filming an investigation into mysterious disappearances around Schlockhöfen. But having lost the keys to their jeep, they are forced to knock at the castle door…

Can they survive the night within its forbidding walls with only Herr Doktor and his weird household for company? The denizens of Der Schloss include Beauty, a handmade nymphomaniac S&M junkie; Beast, who makes Frankenstein’s Monster look a complete pussy; Otto Plügbutt, Herr Doktor’s devoted batman, and his terrifying yet drop-dead gorgeous She-Wolves – an all singing, all dancing troupe of PVC-clad lycanthropes – the ultimate security detail to die for…

And dropping (quite literally) into this freakshow, a gung-ho squad of U.S. Airborne rangers, attempting to snatch Herr Doktor for a top-secret CIA programme…

The scene is set for a rip-roaring, rock n’ rolling evening of gothic devilment and pure pulp horror wickedness. So sit back, relax, and place yourselves in the horribly capable hands of Herr Doktor and his lethal, latex-clad lady friends…