R.U.R.

When idealistic young Helena Glory arrives at the remote island headquarters of Rossum’s Universal Robots (R.U.R.) with vague ideas about liberating the robots the company manufactures from their lives of enforced servitude, she is unprepared for what she finds. Overwhelmed by the almost evangelistic Harry Domain, she remains on the island, and inadvertently sews the seeds of her and mankind’s destruction…

Written by Čapek in 1920 and set at the end of the 20th Century, ‘R.U.R.’ premiered not on the stage in Prague as was originally intended, but with an amateur group in the far smaller town of Hradec Králové in January 1921. Ahead of its time in its depiction of human-like artificial beings, Čapek’s play introduced the word ‘Robot’ into the English language, derived from the Czech word ‘robota’ which means ‘forced labour’. In their creation, assembled from artificial bones, flesh and organs rather than mechanical parts, we would more likely refer to them as androids, or even (borrowing from Philip K Dick’s ‘Blade Runner’) ‘replicants’. The script was translated into English by Paul Selver later in 1921, and adapted for the stage by Nigel Playfair the following year, but it was far from faithful to the original. Many lines were cut, others added, a robot character removed entirely and his lines given to another. This version, or something similar to it, debuted in New York in October 1922 (featuring, in his Broadway debut, actor Spencer Tracy), and at St Martin’s Theatre in London in April 1923. Čapek complained that his original ending had been suppressed. It would not be until 1989 that a new unabridged translation, by Claudia Novack-Jones would actually appear,

Paul Ford’s first foray into directing also saw him tentatively try to adapt the script for a more modern audience. He started with a 1973 imported American edition of the script, by the Washington Square Press, of the Selver/Playfair adaptation and it was clear that what might have made sense in 1923 was jarring over sixty years on. (Dr Helman, practically the last man standing and desperately shoring up a barricade against the coming army of robot insurgents hears an explosion and says ‘The damned rascals, they’ve got bombs.’ with not so much as an exclamation mark to indicate shock or urgency.) Changes were made, but as the comments of the critic attest, he could have and should have been bolder in his alterations. However, the production did provide a showcase for the remarkable talents of Mark Taylor, who composed here a full original music score for the show, the first time he had done so, as well as performing on stage as Dr Gall.

The Frankenstein Monster Show

This inventive and exuberant play with music brings the Frankenstein story into the computer age. When the young American scientist Frank Enstein first arrives at the Victorian Gothic pile called Enstein Hall, he’s determined to sell the place and use the proceeds and the rest of his inheritance to fund his ambitions in computerised robotic systems. Housekeeper Mrs Body and Igor, still loyal to their dead master, are appalled and in an attempt to persuade the newcomer to change his mind, present him first with the notebook outlining the old master’s experiments, and then show him the laboratory, where lies Boris, the monster, the old master’s finest creation. Frank revives Boris, and is inspired to create more monsters, but ones guided by his own computerised control systems. Two dodgy Irish undertakers, Wille Burke and Willie Hare, and their scheming wife Lucretia Burkenhare (she’s married to both for tax purposes), make a deal with Frank, and soon have ‘raw materials’ problem sorted as they set up a production line. Business booms. But John B. Good, the family solicitor, has his suspicions about the strange goings on an Enstein Hall, and calls on Sherlock Holmes for help. Unfortunately he’s at least sixty years too late, and ends up with Sherlock Holmes Junior, a wheelchair-bound idiot. And then Dr Watson appears. No, not that one. This is Ruby Watson, and thankfully, she’s smart, (and pretty, or at least John thinks so) and now the three investigators head for the Hall to uncover the hideous goings-on and bring them to an end. If they can….

More Munster than Monster, this somewhat ramshackle script rode roughshod over just about every literary device it touched. Burke and Hare were stereotypical ‘Oirish’ idiots. Sherlock Holmes Jnr. was a pompous fool, outsmarted on every level by his companion, Watson. Even the villainous Enstein (with no explanation as to why the monster creator of old has a stately home in England) wasn’t that smart.

However, high points in the production included the donkey-jacketed Willie Hare lifting up tail-coated Willie Burke by the lapels only for them to come off in his hands, generating a profanity laden response from the wearer, and an overly extended dying sequence near to the close resulting in many of the cast, with and without guns, stepping onto the stage and shooting the actor to try and accelerate his demise… definitely not in the script.

The Thwarting of Baron Bolligrew

Written by Robert Bolt in 1966, this children’s play might sit a little awkwardly alongside his other, Oscar and BAFTA-winning, works, such as the screenplay for ‘Lawrence of Arabia’, ‘Doctor Zhivago’ and ‘A Man For All Seasons’. Regardless, it’s a well-written, engaging piece with a cracking storyline, as you would hope given its creator.

For many years the Duke and his loyal knights have been fighting dragons, rescuing damsels in distress, and trying to make their dukedom safe for its people. Now they’ve finally succeeded, the last dragons in the realm have been killed, and the Duke and most of his knights are happy to sit back and enjoy the peace they’ve made. However, their charter requires that this decision to rest on their laurels must be unanimous and one of their number, Sir Oblong Fitz Oblong, believes it’s their duty to continue their good work in the desolate and inhospitable wastelands of the North.

Sir Percival Smoothly-Smoothe has a way round the quandary. Ship Oblong off to a nearby island as a knight errant, tasked with defeating the island’s dragon and the equally nasty Jasper, the 15th Baron Bolligrew. Then, when he’s gone, have the vote and get the unanimous result they need to down tools and chill out.

After some persuasion, Sir Oblong leaves on his mission, and finds that taking on the Baron, his unintelligent but absurdly strong henchman Squire Blackheart, the malevolent wizard Doctor Moloch, and the gravel-voiced Black Dragon may be too much for just one man. He’s going to need help. Luckily, there just might be what he needs close at hand, however unlikely they may be…

The Sweeney Todd Shock N’ Roll Show

Billy and Tommy are two sailors just home from the sea. When Billy decides he needs a shave before travelling home to Susan, his girl, he unfortunately chooses the wrong barber. As does Alonzo, a travelling magician and illusionist extraordinaire. Sweeney Todd’s murderous secret is in danger though. Lured by easy money, Todd has foolishly given an apprenticeship to the young Tobias Stoutheart, and Tobias is curious. Why is there a trapdoor beneath the barber’s chair? Alonzo’s assistant, Foozle, (along with his dog, Orlando) is concerned when his master goes missing, as is Tommy, who knows the last place Billy went was Todd’s barber shop, along with a valuable string of pearls. Together, this trio of investigators might just put an end to the demon barber’s reign of terror, but the trail leads from a Gin Palace in Smithfield to a madhouse in Peckham and finally to Mrs Lovett’s cellar bakehouse for a final confrontation…

This take on the traditional Victorian melodrama is a lot sillier than most other versions. Queen Victoria is just one addition to the usual list of characters, and Mrs Lovett’s Pastriacci Mark III automated pie-making machine, not to mention a police chase involving most of the cast, are among the many opportunities for slapstick and physical theatre. The well-known storyline is still in there somewhere, but this is more ‘Carry On’ than Sondheim.

One footnote. The programme states that the part of Queen Victoria was played by Wendy Cole. Sadly, after the programme had been printed, Wendy fell ill and Paul Ford, who up to that point had been playing John Brown, HRH’s attendant, dragged up and became Queen. Like you do.