'London Road' at the National

There's nowt so melodic as folk

'London Road' at the Cottesloe is that terribly rare thing - a truly original piece of entertainment. It chronicles the events that took place in Ipswich during 2006 when five women were murdered but does so by presenting the verbatim discourse of the surrounding community. The genius lies in realising that the vocal tics, pauses, and repetitive nature of normal speech can be transformed into song in the process creating something unique and surprisingly moving.

The skill of the cast - all playing multiple real people - to shape themselves and their voices without slipping into simple impersonation or caricature is astonishing. Kate Fleetwood seems to have a different physical form, stature and gait when she is playing Julie as to when she appears as any other person. Her performance is a standout in a company that doesn't have one weak link, portraying a women caught up in events not of her making but quietly determined to do something about it.

Those individuals taking advantage of the situation or behaving less than charitably are not whitewashed from the record. Even the most sympathetic characters are allowed moments where we might feel a little uncomfortable with their point of view. But presenting humanity in all it's light and shade is what this does so well.

Direction, lighting and design are all imaginative and add to the richness of the play - the hanging basket finale is strangely powerful - but really the evening belongs to the dialogue and the music. Adam Cork and Alecky Blythe have collaborated on something miraculous bringing clarity and focus to real speech in a way that celebrates it's idiosyncrasies and highlights it's inherent harmony.

An odd, passionate and compelling evening of theatre.

Bill Count: 5

'Godspell' at the Union Theatre

A blast from the spiritual, hippy, flowers and peace religious past.

There is much to admire and a lot to enjoy in 'Godspell', Stephen Schwartz's 1971 adaptation of the Gospel of Matthew (and a little bit of Luke). It takes the simple tales contained in the New Testament, shakes them free of a lot of the politics of the last couple of thousand years and presents them cheerfully and humorously. Even if it screams love, peace and flares as it does so.

As parables these tales are, as you'd expect, timeless and wise - little stories to try and help you live a better life with others. This production distances itself even further from the religious nature of the source material by hedging it's bets in the opening sequence. A Hawkins type electronic voice charts the beginnings of the Universe implying the connection between science and the metaphoric nature of a lot of what follows.

The songs carry a lot more of the Christian religious symbolism and spiritual dimension of the source material. This isn't all that surprising given that some of the lyrics are taken from traditional hymns. They are also much harder to shift from the late sixties and so where you'll most often be reminded of 'Jesus Christ Superstar' and, indeed, 'Hair'. But roof raisers like 'Day By Day' and 'Prepare Ye...' don't need improvement - though the lyricist could have tried a bit harder to give us more than one chorus.

Oddly, the least satisfying part of the story is the crucifixion. This is the only sequence which relies on the audience having a knowledge of the Greatest Story Ever Told and so doesn't arise from what we are seeing in front of us. Act 2 as a whole doesn't quite manage to lead us through the events with a strong enough narrative and so becomes a sequence of tableaux instead.

The entire cast perform brilliantly. And the jokes are very, very funny. It's not often you see 'Into the Woods', 'A Chorus Line', 'Les Mis' and 'Victoria Wood As Seen On TV' mixed with Bible stories but, judging by the laugh out loud results here, maybe you should.

Bill Count: 0

'Rocket to the Moon' at the National

Stirling performances, dodgy accents, a stunning set and gorgeous millinery.

Clifford Odets wrote 'Rocket to the Moon' in 1938 and it has a heightened, almost cliched style of dialogue. The characters seem to comprise of a check list of stereotypes but this limitation is knowing as if the writer, the characters and the audience are all in on the joke. And the jokes are good. While the play loses pace on some occasions, mostly when the women aren't on stage, it does produce solid laughs throughout. It's the drama that sometimes falters especially when it comes to the periphery of men who share the floor of the office building.

Acting honours go to Jessica Raine who manages to make the astonishingly simple Cleo - so simple, in fact, you can't believe it isn't an act - likeable rather than slappable. Joseph Millson as Ben has a great collection of dumb, empty smiles and Nicholas Woodeson is relishing the brutal honesty of Mr. Prince. Poor Keeley Hawes seems to draw the short straw with the hard Mrs. Stark. She only has a couple of occasions where she can make the role sympathetic but does get the best hats. Even if some of the accents wobble a bit all the performances are first rate.

The Lyttleton impresses once again with the quality of the stagecraft on display. Nobody could fault the care and detail in Anthony Ward's set and Mark Henderson's lighting. The overpowering heat of a June 1930's New York office is stunningly realised. The characters nervous tic like trips to the water cooler completely justified in such an oppressive setting.

With it's oven-like backdrop, sexual tension and heightened language there is something of the Tennessee Williams about the play although this one only reaches a simmer rather than a rolling boil.

Bill Count: 4

'Haunting Julia' at the Riverside Studios

A solid final scream doesn't make this slight play haunt the memory.

To call Alan Ayckbourn prolific is to undersell what is an astonishing breadth of work. With over seventy plays competing for attention it's small wonder that one or two of them are less than memorable and, unfortunately, 'Haunting Julia' definitely fails to scare like a good ghost story should.

Set some years after a young and very gifted musician has taken her own life, the play sets about exploring the various ways something can be haunted. Individuals are haunted by their grief, guilt or gifts. The building where the tragedy took place is both seemingly haunted by the spirit itself and also by the fact that it's been turned into a museum. Even the words of Julia haunt the play by being repeated on a loop over the exhibit.

All of this could be quite chilling but the setting never seems quite cold enough, the characters don't appear sufficiently panicked until too late and the sequence of long explanations of each relationship with the titular Julia saps a lot of the tension from the occasional scares.

Dominic Hecht is a suitably disbelieving rationalist as Andy as shocked by the existence of the museum as the ghost that inhabits it. And Christopher Timothy is a bluff and plain-speaking Joe but probably over plays some of the panic just a little. Richard O'Callaghan seemed a little weak as Ken, a little too fay.

However all this good work can't cover the fact that the ending, while well done, just doesn't seem worth the build up - more a mild draft than a proper gust from the depths of hell. It might have been worth sticking with a one act structure since the interval reduced some of the impact that a straight run through would have achieved.

All in all, not a complete misfire but definitely not enough to keep you awake at night.

Bill Count: 2

'They Came to a City' at the Southwark Playhouse

Who would have though that optimism could seem so dated?

Written in 1943, J.B. Priestley's play skirts a very fine line between a play and a polemic about the kind of society that could be created from the upheaval that large areas of the world were experiencing.

The play expresses a passionate hope that things can be made better if we don't commit ourselves to simply rebuilding what was there before. The kind of hope that led to massive societal changes in Britain even in the face of terrible austerity. And it's the kind of hope which now seems elementary and childish because that society didn't come about. That, in effect, we failed.

Straightforwardly written and clearly structured, the play in places comes across as a trifle simplistic but then a passing comment from one of the characters will jolt you with Priestley's prescience. When you're laughing at a joke at the expense of business and banking which sounds as though it could have been written for a panel show last week you have to give the author credit.

All the performances were carefully judged to give just the right amount of cliched forties character actor that the dialogue demands and then let the superb writing do the hard work. Particular congratulations to James Robinson and Charlotte Donachie who produced credible protagonists out of the roles which run the greatest risk of sounding naive.

Also worthy of note was the beautiful lighting in the Playhouse's cavernous Vault, making the always out of sight city seem welcoming in that tunnel is quite a task.

Very much of it's time but timely, 'They Came To a City' was surprising, amusing and - through no fault of it's own - slightly depressing.

Bill Count: 1

'Betty Blue Eyes' at the Novello Theatre

Set in the post World War Two austerity Britain preparing for a Royal Wedding - no obvious parallel left undrawn - 'Betty Blue Eyes' is an adaptation of the Alan Bennet scripted film 'A Private Function'. It revolves around a chiropodist and his socially climbing wife, a pig called Betty, a group of local dignitaries, a banquet plus the meat inspector who wants to bring them all to book.

The song writing team of George Stiles and Anthony Drewe have marshalled a collection of instantly catchy melodies with a fantastic line in witty and arch lyrics for this comedy. Which includes possibly the best song about foot complaints ever likely to be written although, admittedly, it's probably not up against that much competition.

The hit rate for the songs is astonishingly high. Whether it's in a fantastic belter - 'Nobody' - for Sarah Lancashire, the dizzying mini-farce 'Pig, No Pig', the frankly too hummable for it's own good 'Betty Blue Eyes' or the brilliantly orchestrated extended dance scene 'Lionheart', this is a very strong score. Each song is distinct, adds to character, moves the plot along but never forgets to be melodic and, perhaps most importantly, fun.

And this cast bring out the very best in the material. Sarah Lancashire is fabulous as the socially ambitious Joyce, all straight back and simmering resentment, perfectly partnered with Reece Shearsmith as a delightfully downtrodden - by both wife and society - Gilbert. They have the lightness of touch of experienced comic actors but also make you believe enough in the relationship to make the final walk into the sunset a genuinely heart warming moment.

Set design, direction and choreography all add to the mood, bringing an air of heightened reality to the whole thing. And the animatronic pig is surprisingly awww inducing.

However, with all of these strengths it's a shame there has to be a weakness and it's the book. Scenes which should bounce along never quite come to life; the Northern cadences should have a musicality of they're own but they never quite reach it. When this show sings, it soars but the dialogue is resolutely earth bound. Which, given there's a song every five minutes or so, does make the evening rather uneven.

Overall, Cameron Mackintosh has backed a very strong show for his first foray into the unforgiving world of the original musical for about a decade. This is defiantly old school musical comedy but there's nothing wrong with that.

Bill Count: 4

'The Umbrellas of Cherbourg' at the Gielgud Theatre

Kneehigh, the theatre company responsible for this adaptation of the 60s French film by Jacques Demy, had enormous success a couple of years back with 'Brief Encounter'. That was an altogether wilder reworking of seminal British cinema with the explosive moments of theatrical daring clearly counterpointing the safe, staid atmosphere of the original film.

In many ways 'Cherbourg' is less successful because it doesn't have the room to play with audience expectations and the material quite as much. Which isn't to say it's a failure by any means just not quite a success.

The sung play covers Guy and Geneviève's love affair as they have to deal with the interference of Geneviève's mother and the inconvenience of the Algerian war. At the conclusion of the six years, our hero and heroine aren't quite where you expect them to be but the story still manages to be romantic and humane.

All the performers do a wonderful job of keeping the recitative bouncing along which, while odd at the start of the evening, seems strangely natural and emotional at the end. Joanna Riding has a studied sixties elegance about her even when being wheeled around which is not something everybody could manage.

Less successful is the choreography of the actors around the stage. The constantly mobile state of the cast and set seemed to draw away from the quieter, more personal moments of the show. And it wasn't quite smooth and effortless enough to not draw you out of the action.

It is probably instructive that the most successful parts of the production are the additions. Presenting the town as a scale model at the start, transitions written on just about any prop you can think of, a balloon tango sequence and the joyous silliness of the shop door bell.

Maîtresse as performed by the cabaret artist Meow Meow, is a scintillating presence guiding us through the melodrama with sympathy but also a hint of darkness. And the final lovers reunion which leads into an astonishing coup de thèâtre or, rather, a sequence of them reminds us what this company is capable of when in complete control of their art.

Bill Count: 0

'Clybourne Park' at Wyndham's Theatre

At the weekend 'Clybourne Park' won Best New Play at the Olivier's, it has also received almost universal praise from the critics and been given a West End transfer from the Royal Court, could it possibly live up to these expectations?

Unequivocally yes. It's a brilliant new play performed superbly by a hugely talented cast.

Bruce Norris' script dazzles with it's impish ability to raise questions about acceptable behaviour and language and the changing state of morality without ever feeling preachy or forced. His characters speak and react like real people. The dialogue, especially in the second act, bounces from -ism to -ism delighting in making the audience shout with laughter while cringing at the taboos being broken. Sexism, racism, xenophobia and homophobia all get a little dig, a little moment caging the characters in a maze of things you must never do or say. For middle class liberals it's a perfect storm and hysterically funny.

Enormous skill is displayed by all members of the cast. Sarah Goldberg excels as Lindsey and Lorna Brown must look forward to delivering the killer white women gag every single night. Perfectly timed it had the audience in uproar. Stephen Campbell Moore has a brilliant way of communicating that he knows he's digging a hole but just can't stop, you squirm at each utterance. Lucian Msamati has a panicked dignity in the first act.

Set and costume design by Robert Innes Hopkins has a suitably fifties sit-com style in the first act and an astonishing transformation in the second. Lighting and sound are subtle, letting the words carry the weight.

If there is a weakness, it's the final coda to the play where Kenneth makes an appearance. This one extra tie from the incidents of the first act seemed a trifle unnecessary given the parentage of the rest of the characters and the presence of the box and note onstage. However this is a tiny misstep in an otherwise almost perfect evening of intelligent entertainment.

Bill Count: 2

'Kimono Jungle' at the Ambassadors

Set in a zoo in Tokyo, 'Kimono Jungle' is the touching story of a zoo keeper who finds out she owns the zoo and then accidentally sells it to a couple of Americans who want to eat and wear the animals. With touches of Sondheim, Bertholt Brecht, Rodgers and Hammerstein and the Bee Gees, the score is varied and, yet, somehow feels as though it's made up on the spot. Each song has a close connection to the plot although the plot seems rambling and the carnivorous inclinations of the Americans decidedly tacked on.

I am, of course, actually talking about the blissfully silly 'Showstopper!'. An improvised musical generated from suggestions from the audience. Immensely popular at the Edinburgh Fringe, recently housed at the Trafalgar Studios but now a regular at the Ambassadors with a Radio 4 comedy series under their belt 'Showstopper!' is enjoying great success and, judging by last night, that success is well deserved.

It's obviously impossible to really review the contents of such a show since each one is going to be completely different and, I'm sure, partly dependent on the quality of the suggestions. It is, however, completely possible to be blown away by the skilful pastiches. The Sondheim number sounded like an early draft of 'Into the Woods' and the Brecht section brought tears to the eyes - 'I am a capitalist!'.

Improvisational comedy of this form treads a fine line between collaboration, astonishingly demonstrated in the group singing, and an evil desire to make things awkward for your fellow performers. I loved the unnecessary tongue twister based around Yoshi, sushi, sashimi and sea shanties, for example. If I have a criticism then it would be I wanted to see more of the evil - listening to Caroline Quentin and Paul Merton deliberately corpse each other in 'The Masterson Inheritance' is comedy gold.

All the actors were quite marvellous and full marks to the small band for being able to keep up and make it up. Frankly I'm amazed it works at all. But a extra round of applause for Julie Clare's gin sozzled panda, absolute genius.

Oh and a nod to my line of the evening 'Suzuki, you have to do something! The corners are coming off the block beast!'

Bill Count: 0

'Season's Greetings' at the National

'Season's Greetings' is an Alan Ayckbourn play set, unsurprisingly, at Christmas. I thought it would be a bit odd watching it in March but, even though a large family Christmas is the sit in this sit-com, it doesn't feel at all festive. Almost anti-Christmas in it's depiction of people forced together in an annual struggle to endure each others company.

It's sometime in the early 1980s, Belinda and Neville are hosting the large gathering for family and friends and Rachel's sister has invited a new friend, up and coming author Clive, to join them. Bernard wants to do his annual puppet show for the children. His wife, Phyllis, has a drink problem. Pattie is pregnant again but stuck with a loveless, useless husband in Eddie. And Harvey, with his enthusiasm for the more violent of life's pursuits, takes up houseroom.

As the characters bounce off each other, concerned very little by their drink fuelled actions, the comedy becomes bigger and sillier but never looses its perceptive quality. This is classic British farce in many ways but with a rigorous intellect behind it. The second act had a more fevered quality, the laughs coming thickly as things spun splendidly out of control.

Catherine Tate plays the brash and dominating Belinda broadly and goes for the big laughs while Nicola Walker, as her put upon sister, shuffled through the proceedings with an air of someone apologetic to even ask the air to move around her. Tate and Walker played to their strengths and I don't think anyone would accuse the performances of being subtle but when you have this much skill with a punchline it really doesn't matter. Both character's interactions with Clive being particularly funny.

It's always fun to watch drunk acting and Jenna Russell was no exception. I found the husbands less interesting but Mark Gatiss must get a massive round of applause for his collapse in Act Two. Just the right amount of frenzy and pathos as his puppet show hysterically fell apart.

And the set! I'm used to seeing amazing stage craft in the Lyttleton theatre but this beautiful three floored house sliced down the middle was something special. Not just in the extraordinary believability of the fixtures and fittings but the gorgeous touches around the edges - loft lagging in the roof and drainage pipes underneath. It's not often you get property envy from a theatrical set but this one managed it.

This was a superior slice of British comedy performed by a cast at the top of their game. An absolute treat.

Bill Count: 4

'The Wizard of Oz' at the London Palladium

I was lucky enough to see Andrew Lloyd Webber's new production of the classic 'The Wizard of Oz' early in it's run and it was an impressive technical achievement.

The show follows the MGM movie to a large degree. It's obvious effort has been made to turn the film friendly structure into something more suitable for a two act musical spectacle (though the poppy field sequence was still unnecessary and slipped a bit into panto with good and bad witch swinging wildly over the action). And it aims more at the younger family than the growing up angst of 'Wicked'

All the actors manage to fill the shoes of their illustrious predecessors with performances that are somewhere between homage, pastiche and reinterpretation. Hannah Waddingham hits the Kansas vowels squarely making such universally recognised lines as '...and your little dog too' and 'I'm melting!' bring a shiver of recognition and pleasure. Danielle Hope convinces as Dorothy and Edward Baker-Duly just had the edge for me with his fighter of a Tin Man.

The new music fitted into the style of the rest of the score but never really came to life. The understated melody of 'Wonders of the World' allowed Michael Crawford to sparkle like the old pro he is but the Wicked Witch's new song didn't really hit the highs that I know the actress is capable of. Overall these were nice but not essential additions - the show comes across as constructed rather than composed.

Monkeys swooped, impressive sets slipped effortlessly onto the stage, pyrotechnics pyroteched and tornados wooshed us away from Kansas. The staging along with the set and costume design are the major strengths of the production. Obviously a lot of attention and love has been put into thew look of the show.

But, ultimately, all eyes were on Toto - would the small dog, utterly uninterested in what was going on around it, misbehave? Would he rush off stage at an awkward moment? Would he give up travelling around in circles on the Yellow Brick Road (yes, as it happens)? Would he chase after the wrong actor or show an impressive amount of affection for the Wicked Witch? And this was what was missing from the production as a whole, all very slick but we were left looking to the dog for some warmth and humanity.

Bill Count: 2

'The Last Five Years' at the Tabard Theatre

'The Last Five Years' is a Jason Robert Brown song cycle that attempts to do something interesting with the simple story of a man and a women falling into and out of love. The two protagonists are placed at opposite ends of the relationship and where Catherine moves from the messy end to the promising beginning, her partner Jamie gets the chronological direction and the disappointment.

Each actor gets at least one angry song, soppy song and a comedy song along with the one duet when the two characters pass each other at their wedding and as an example of the versatility of the performer the show has a lot going for it. I saw Jamie Lee Pike and Christopher Pym and they were both very good although I felt Jamie got stronger as the evening progressed. This may have been because she is more natural at comedy than tragedy or it could be that the songs get better. Either way she seemed more comfortable when she was happier.

The score, as you would expect from 80 minutes worth of songs, varies from the very good to those that sound pretty much like any other recent off Broadway show but the highs are definitely higher than, for example, 'Ordinary Days'. The middle duet is very strong.

The setting on the tiny Tabbard stage was accomplished and made very good use of the space. The band played with gusto and the arrangement for piano and strings was magnificent although the balance between the actors and the music could have been more, well, balanced.

Unfortunately, clever though the structure of the musical is and pretty strong as the performances were, the structure seems to rob the situation of its power. Limiting the characters to single sided musical conversations has the knock on effect of limiting the exploration of the relationship. In fact, it seems to have the effect of making both the protagonists unsympathetic. She seems whiny and he seems selfish. Which, in turn, means that you leave the evening more intellectually impressed rather than emotionally moved.

Bill Count: 0

'By Jeeves' at the Landor Theatre

I think it would be true to say I'm not a massive Andrew Lloyd Webber fan. His faux rock in the seventies and faux opera in the eighties mostly left me cold with the two notable exceptions of Phantom and Evita. However, if you're going to riff on a style or composer then creating some faux Coward is going to be much more to my taste. And the score for 'By Jeeves' does, thankfully, have a lot of that inspiration.

Having not seen the nineties West End production, I'm not sure how much of the framing device of the village hall recital is new but, given the history of the show, I wouldn't be at all surprised if it had been at least highly tweaked. In the small space of the Landor the setting comes into it's own. And the multiple part playing of the cast allows for pantomimic scenery chewing when telling the story and a look of faint embarrassment when the weaknesses of the score become a little too obvious.

The hard working cast really throw themselves into making the evening as silly as possible - the car journey being an especial pleasure. But even they can't quite carry us over the fact that the story just runs out at the end. The final medley - although brilliantly handled - seems almost like a desperate attempt to give the piece the finale it so severely lacked. And appearing as the characters from the Wizard of Oz did nothing for me.

With such sterling work from all participants it seems unfair to pick out anyone in particular but I enjoyed David Menkin's mugging disgracefully during the group numbers and Charlotte Mills' enthusiastic tap dancing was very funny.

High marks should go to Kevin Trainor keeping the whole thing ticking on as Bertie but, overall, it's a bumpy piece. Moments of absolute brilliance just go to highlight how long some of the weaker sections hang around. Well worth popping along to see though - much in common with 'Salad Days' (recently revived at the Riverside Studios) it's a particularly British bit of whimsey that doesn't try to do anything more serious than make you smile.

Bill Count: 2

'Ordinary Days' at the Trafalgar Studios

It's nice to try something you know nothing about and be pleasantly surprised.

There is a style of American off Broadway musical sound that seems to revolve around a heavy use of complex conversational lyrics, an arrangement that is aimed at a piano and a small number of strings and a complete inability to add a hummable tune. That isn't to say these shows are unenjoyable but they're never going to worry a Porter or Berlin at the box office.

As 'Ordinary Days' started, my normal sunny optimism slipped slightly as I realised we were into that territory. We even had a moderately irritating gay character to open the evening. However the nifty, slight, emotional story had heart and by the time we hit 'I'll Be Here' the show had turned me round and I was genuinely moved.

Julie Atherton - who I must have seen in 'Avenue Q' a couple of years ago - was quite brilliant in the role of Claire and, although the role of Jason seemed the most underwritten of the characters, Daniel Boys was doing his very best kicked puppy. Alexia Khadime is obviously someone to watch and Lee William Davies completed the quartet strongly. All must be commended for heartfelt performances but it was the neat intricacy of the show itself that I think won me over.

Sung through, simple and sentimental, it nevertheless had a satisfying emotional complexity. Now, if only we could get that killer melody too.

Bill Count: 1

'Twisted Tales' at the Lyric Hammersmith

A few weeks ago I went to see the Lyrics 'Ghost Stories' in it's new home on St. Martin's Lane and was very pleased to find I enjoyed it as much the second time even though I knew the end. In fact, sitting in a very (possible over) reactive audience, I tried not to feel slightly superior in an 'I know something you don't know' way - didn't manage it but that probably tells you a lot about me.

One of the consequences of seeing the play twice was the pleasure you get from watching out for the little touches that tied the whole evening together. The satisfaction that the final conceit gives you is one of the plays strength, the individual stories would probably feel quite lightweight and inconsequential otherwise.

Which brings me to 'Twisted Tales' - I had high hopes of another macabre evening especially given the source of the original short stories - Roald Dahl not being unknown for his, huh, twisted sense of humour. But the result was much less enjoyable than 'Ghost Stories' for two reasons.

Given a running time of about ninety minutes, five stories seemed too many. Admittedly these short stories aren't much more than set up and punch line but they still seemed rushed. Atmospheric and lovingly realised in that post war style of films like 'Brief Encounter', they weren't given room to breathe.

But I think the biggest disappointment was the framing device of commuters being told tall tales. There was no extra gloss given to the tales by the ending - which was a shame as I was hoping for a conclusion as clever as Jeremy Dyson's previous play.

That isn't to say that the evening was unenjoyable. The clipped vowel delivery and sheer nastiness of some of the tales was entertaining. I was just really hoping for more.

Bill Count: 0

'Company' at the Southwark Playhouse

I've always had a soft spot for Sondheim and I first heard 'Company' back when I was at university. It all seemed so clever, detailed and perceptive. How could anyone fail to be moved by the 'Being Alive' or touched by the clarity of 'Sorry-Grateful'? And seeing those songs brought to life by the impressive cast the Southwark Playhouse have gathered was nothing if not a pleasure.

But - isn't there always a but? - also a bit of a eye-opener. The show isn't perfect. Possibly not even that perceptive. There is a disparate nature to the songs which make them less as a whole than as individual pieces. And finishing both acts with Bobby explaining his state of mind overburdens the first. This is a musical put together by a enormously talented novice, a man who would go on to perfect his art a few years down the line with 'A Little Night Music' and 'Sweeney Todd'.

Rupert Young did his very best as Bobby but the character is difficult to bring to life - as the centre around which the other couples circle, he's a bit of a cypher. His performance was winning though and you could really understand why he might be so popular with everyone. I enjoyed Cassidy Janson as Amy very much - she barely seemed to draw breath during 'Getting Married Today' and Katie Brayben's unbelievably thick April was a comedy master class and brought genuine warmth to 'Barcelona' while Siobhan McCarthy tried to out-Stritch Stritch on 'Ladies Who Lunch'.

The band and direction were excellent and the evening bowled along. The decision to set things in the present day probably didn't quite work. Some of the worries of the couples just seem too set in the late sixties including, ironically, marriage. We may have reached the point where 'Company' has become a period piece.

However, as 'Being Alive' disappears, the final scene is played and the cast take their bows there is no denying that 'Company' is a wonderful piece of theatre just, maybe, not quite as perfect as I thought.

Bill Count: 1

"Accomplice' at the Menier Chocolate Factory (sorta)

I'm not a huge fan of audience participation - the audience sits in the seats, there should be a clearly defined stage and that's where the actors go. This may stem from being molested by a female dancing cat when in my adolescence, it's surprising what sticks with you. Never wanted to be called onstage at a panto either. It was always the parent pushed posh kids called Quentin. Anyway, I digress.

'Accomplice' is nothing but audience participation. You are instructed to meet at a secret location where someone attracts your attention and then tells you the plot. This is useful but unnecessary since what follows is more treasure hunt / Crystal Maze than country house whodunnit. A couple of hours later and you've tramped around Southwark, reached the treasure and even had a couple of beers.

And it's all enormous fun. Played for the comedy by the cast, this is light entertainment which is a bit out of the ordinary. The puzzles are just hard enough to challenge without frustrating. The chase long enough to be meaningful without dragging and the ending satisfying enough to be worth it. It even makes you consider the possibility of setting up something similar. For about five minutes.

'Ghost Stories' at the Duke of York's

As you can imagine, this post contains a spoiler or two.

Arghhhhhh! followed by a giggle. It's a classic reaction to a good scare. The tension, the shock then the relief. And a deft avoidance of the intellect centres of the brain. If the rest of the audience plays along too, well, you can all get taken in together. Much like comedy, horror works better in a group.

The direction, stage craft and script of 'Ghost Stories' are magnificently single minded, they want you to jump; that's about it. Maybe let out a squeak. Possibly scream. But definitely jump. And they use every classic theatrical trick to make it work. Sweeping light across the audience before something jumps out; loud noises highlighting sudden movement; the juxtaposition of the horrific and the mundane. It's not sophisticated but it is successful - judging by the people around me anyway.

And then there's the final twist. It really worked for me. It raised the ropey, predictable (and enjoyably hokey) trio of campfire tales into something much more horrific. It's always what you don't see, those things allowed to play in your mind that has the most impact and this was nasty.

What's most enjoyable about 'Ghost Stories' is however clever, jumpy and nicely played the earlier parts of the play are, it's the dropping of a pen that becomes truly horrific. And that's clever.

'Love Story' at the Duchess Theatre

Cooking! Live on stage! In time to the music! Proving once and for all that a pasta meal really is simple enough to prepare after a hard day at work - it must have been fresh pasta though because it wasn't in the saucepan for very long.

Apart from the onstage culinary wizardry, 'Love Story' at the Duchess has much going for it. The two leads were very good, I felt that Emma Williams had the edge as Jenny. She had a steel to her performance that made you believe in the stoic acceptance of her illness. Michael Xavier as Oliver had the harder task to perform, the rift from his family not eliciting much natural sympathy.

The story of 'Love Story' is not going to win many awards for straying from the hard worn romantic tragedy path, it may have been more ground breaking in 1970 but I don't think it's very likely. As the opening number says 'What Can You Say?', a fair assessment of the entire musical. It does exactly what you expect.

Music and lyrics by Stephen Clark and Howard Goodall are straight forward and tidily performed by the onstage band - as straight forward as such an honest theatrical endeavour deserves. The flashback structure doesn't add anything to the story but does allow for the satisfaction of the score ending with echoing the same melody with which it began. The famous 'Love Story' theme makes a welcome appearance in one scene which, I would imagine, everyone in the audience would have expected.

Overall though I couldn't help feeling that the evening needed something more to raise it above the level of alright. I didn't get the kind of emotional burst at the finale which I would have expected - I'm quite easy to move with a little theatrical magic. My friend was in floods though so maybe it was just me.

Bill Count: 3

'Salad Days' at the Riverside Studios

There is a school of thought which extolls the supremacy of American musicals over their British counterparts. Most of the time I'd be pretty much in agreement - there is a vitality and brashness about the American musical which is not, in general, matched by musical theatre from this side of the pond. But that doesn't mean there aren't unique British shows that just couldn't have been made in America and 'Salad Days' - at least going by the Riverside Studios revival - is one of these. A perfectly formed pice of absolute silliness that nevertheless managed to raise a tear when it finished, I was completely bowled over.

Julian Slade and Dorothy Fields put together a show that, on the one hand is about a magic piano, flying saucers and drinking den cabarets and, on the other, is a beautiful study of growing up, putting away childish things and moving into the world with your best friend by your side. When Timothy and Jane walk away from the Tramp and Minnie and the reprise of 'We Said We'd Never Look Back' fades gently away I'd dare anybody to remain completely unmoved.

The simple tunes, neat rhymes and plainly barking mad story are all played straight down the line in a healthily thick BBC English style. Everyone appears to be having a great time and you almost wish you were joining in. A few lucky members of the audience get that chance as the power of Minnie even manages to get a few people off the front couple of rows and dancing along.

High praise should be distributed widely amongst the entire cast but I would single out Katie Moore for her perfect renditions of 'I Sit in the Sun' and 'The Time of My Life'. Just superb.

Bill Count: 1

'On the Twentieth Century' at the Union Theatre

'On the Twentieth Century' is a Cy Coleman musical - he of 'Sweet Charity' and 'Big Spender' fame - which uses a Howard Hawks screwball comedy as it's primary inspiration. It explores the tempestuous relationship between a movie idol actress and a producer desperate to get her services. And has lots of entertaining running in and out of compartments with slamming doors.

The Union Theatre is on a bit of a roll at the moment with their small scale productions of big Broadway musicals - like an even thriftier version of the Menier Chocolate Factory's shows. The tiny cavern like space has both the benefit of making you a real part of the performance but can also throw up some sound level problems. The surprisingly large and beautifully brassy band sometimes overwhelmed the performers given the acoustics.

The seating arrangement stretching across the length of the performance area also wasn't quite as successful as having more depth to the seating and stage but a smaller width. Bit too much neck twisting to be completely comfortable. Not that you could accuse the seating in general of being comfortable.

But these are minor concerns in comparison to the sheer energy of the production. In the fine tradition of most farcical comedies, a lot of the comedy relies on the cast throwing themselves at the ridiculous situations with brio and this cast didn't disappoint. The music stylistically sits somewhere around the 1930s even though the show premiered in 1980 and has the same kind of bounce as the book.

Coleman's melodies range from the superbly catchy 'On the Twentieth Century' to the sadistically annoying 'I Have a Written a Play' but my favourite has to be the wonderfully un-PC 'She's a Nut!' Comden and Green's lyrics are playful and have the effortlessness of years of experience.

The staging was inventive given the constraints and had the best cast-train since 'Hello, Dolly!' at the Open Air Theatre a few years back. Howard Samuels and Bruce Granit obviously had great fun preening in fake mirrors and Valda Aviks is delightfully certifiable. Rebecca Vere was as wonderfully untouchable a movie star as you could wish for. Chris David Storer and Matt Harrop were an engaging two stooges and the rest of the cast gave enthusiastic support.

All aboard the Twentieth Century for some sophisticated jazzy silliness, here's hoping for a transfer.

Bill Count: 0

'When We Are Married' at the Garrick

With a cast that reads like a who's who of British comedy and a script by J.B. Priestley what could possibly go wrong?

Well, nothing really. It all ticked along quite nicely. Nobody can do downtrodden and then rebellious like Sam Kelly or fix a Basilisk stare like Maureen Lipman. Lynda Baron is big and bustling, Roy Hudd end-of-the-pier drunk and Susie Blake sweet. But pleasant was the only height it reached.

For a comedy to be considered farcical, doesn't the tempo have to rise? Doesn't at least one of the cast have to panic? One mis-timed entrance or slammed door? Much like the characters the script was trying to lampoon, this was all a bit mannered. The performances too careful and the comedy too gentle. Chuckles rather than laughs.

Still, the set was gorgeous and the staging old fashioned and simple. There was an old school robustness which left you in no doubt that everyone knew what they were doing. And you're not going to get that many opportunities to see a cast like this.