New releases from Shearwater, Florry, and Navy Blue
Bartful dodger
SUSAN DARLINGTON is swept along by a spirited and borderline political production of Lionel Bart’s masterpiece
CHUTZPAH: The young company in Oliver! at Leeds Playhouse
[Alastair Muir]
CHRIS SEARLE welcomes a startling vision of contemporary Newport from a veteran photographer of the British working class
ANGUS REID recommends a very unusual documentary: a love story between two disillusioned journalists
In verse and polemic, the bard points out that he is a poet and musician, not a political party
MARIA DUARTE, JAMES WALSH and ANDY HEDGECOCK review The Invite, My Father’s Island, Nirvanna: the Band, the Show, the Movie, and Oh My Goodness!
PAUL DONOVAN is chilled by the contemporary resonance of Harper Lee’s coming of age tale amidst racism and white supremacy in this excellent production
GEOFF BOTTOMS recommends the unashamedly light-hearted escapism on offer in this stage version of the 1963 film
Oliver!
Leeds Playhouse
ESCALATING child hunger and poverty have given renewed topicality to Lionel Bart’s Oliver!
In this latest revival, directed by James Brining, heaped platters of meats and savouries are paraded past rows of ravenous workhouse children. Gluttonous fat cats feast on a balcony as they look down — physically and metaphorically — on youngsters who are given meagre bowls of gruel.
It’s a powerful depiction of social inequality that could make the 1960 musical, which is based on the Charles Dickens novel, an awkward fit for a festive family show. Brining has nonetheless navigated the production with great care. The politics are unavoidable, but he also delivers on the familiar showtunes, joyous choreography and makes the audience warm to the central cast.
Similar stories
MATTHEW HAWKINS checks out the centenary performance of Rambert Dance Company
PETER MASON applauds a stage version of Le Carre’s novel that questions what ordinary people have to gain from high-level governmental spying
MAYER WAKEFIELD is gripped by a production dives rapidly from champagne-quaffing slick to fraying motormouth
GORDON PARSONS acknowledges the authority with which Sarah Kane’s theatrical justification for suicide has resonance today