The Canterbury Tales (2011)

It is the 14th Century, and in the bustling courtyard of The Tabard Inn, Southwark, men and women from all walks of life gather for a pilgrimage to the cathedral at Canterbury. Friars and priests, pardoners and summoners, millers and good wives. In order to entertain these good folk, the host of the inn asks that each traveller tells a story as they make their way across Kent. And so they, and we, begin our journey.

In this joyous adaptation of Geoffrey Chaucer’s classic work by Richard Lloyd, Theatre Workshop Coulsdon present six of the best and most colourful tales, creating an exuberant and and often hilarious portrait of ordinary folk preoccupied with petty jealousies, mundane squabbles and simple pleasures. Bold and often bawdy, these tales bring home vividly just how little the English people have really changed over the last six hundred years!

The stories presented are The Nun’s Priest’s Tale, The Wife of Bath’s Tale, The Friar’s Tale, The Pardoner’s Tale, The Miller’s Tale and The Reeves Tale, neatly wrapped in an engaging background as host and landlord Harry Bailey attempts to maintain order amongst his boisterous and often wayward charges.

Chaucer (1343 – 1400) is widely considered to be the greatest English poet of the Middle Ages, and was the first poet to be buried in Poet’s Corner at Westminster Abbey. While he achieved fame during his lifetime as an author, philosopher, alchemist and astronomer, Chaucer also maintained an active career in the civil service as a bureaucrat, diplomat and courtier. His many works include ‘The Book of the Duchess’, ‘The House of Fame’, ‘The Legend of Good Women’ and ‘Troilus and Criseyde’, but it is ‘The Canterbury Tales’, in which he uses the tales to paint an ironic and critical picture of English society, for which he will always be remembered.

The Return Of The Three Musketeers

Twenty years on from his greatest adventure, D’Artagnan is disillusioned. Still only a lowly-paid lieutenant in the musketeers, his friends long gone, forgotten by the powerful people he once rescued from death and dishonour. But where once he saved a queen, a chance turn of events gives D’Artagnan the opportunity to save a King, and a King of England at that! But he can’t do it alone. Can he recruit his old comrades Porthos, Athos and Aramis from retirement? And can they save themselves from the vengeful agent of death that follows their every move?

Freely adapted from Alexandre Dumas’ own stirring Musketeers sequel ‘Twenty Years After’, this is a colourful new story of swashbuckling high adventure, fun and derring-do!

All for one, and one for all, once more!

There are two stories to be told here. One is the best part of two hundred years old, the other just sixteen.

1844. The French author Alexandre Dumas published ‘The Three Musketeers’ as a serial in a magazine. It was an immediate success, and a sequel came out a year later, and a third and final instalment two years after that. ‘The Three Musketeers’ seized the public’s imagination and to one degree or another, has continued to do so ever since.

The four great friends, Athos, Porthos, Aramis and the younger D’Artagnan became over the course of the books embroiled in plots and plans that changed history. Dumas was an avid historian and liked to show off to his readers how much he knew. Mind you, that didn’t stop him riding rough-shod over history when it suited the story!

It’s arguably the most successful piece of French literature ever. (Let’s draw a discreet veil over ‘Les Miserables’ please) There have been movies (lots of them, the first in 1903, the last one just last year), musicals (one part-written by P G Wodehouse of all people) and operas, television series and even cartoons. (those of a certain age may fondly remember ‘Dogtanian and the Three Muskehounds’ though others might run screaming from the room…) One such version was a play written by Willis Hall, which caught the eye of Theatre Workshop Coulsdon founder member and director Chris Argles.

1996, and TWC first comes to grips with the original action-heroes. Richard Lloyd played Athos, Mike Brown was Porthos and I played Aramis. We swashed buckles, waved swords and saved the day. Mike even ran across the stage naked (except for a large musketeer hat!) but only of course because the script demanded it… His grandmother was never quite the same after seeing it!

2011. We’re looking for a follow-up to the open-air success of ‘The Canterbury Tales’. ‘The Three Musketeers’ is suggested, but we really don’t want to revisit the same script because, well, we’ve done it before. Why don’t we do the sequel? Because no-one’s written one. ‘I’ll write one’ says I. The fact I’ve never written a play in my life before seemingly not a stumbling block. Ahem.

2012. Here we are. The play is written, we’ve taken the same three actors to play the original Three Musketeers, and that’s deliberate. The sequel to the first book was called ‘Twenty Years After’ and it’s not far off that between our productions. We’re all older. Probably a bit slower and a bit heavier, maybe even a little wiser. But are we growing old gracefully? Are the Musketeers? Probably not. But is that a bad thing? I don’t think so. Oh, and a note for any Dumas purists out there. I have taken huge liberties with the book. And if you have a problem with that, I’ll meet you outside…with my three friends! All for one, and one for all!

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.

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…

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?