October 28, 2009
Fevvers is the Cockney Venus, a winged beauty left on the doorstep of a brothel, prepared to take the 20th century by storm as the star turn of Colonel Kearney’s circus. Jack Walser is an Icelandic investigative journalist determined to prove her a fraud. Will they find true love? Will Fevvers finally find the freedom she yearns for, no matter what the cost? Will this Angela Carter adaptation prove any good? Whatever happens, the audience is in for a show: the Keble O’Reilly theatre’s interior has become a mix of circus tent and gothic curiosity shop, with birdcages hanging from the ceiling and an excellent group of musicians playing on the balcony. You have to admire any production that ends by hurling feathers into the audience- asthmatics, sit near the back.
With its climax New Year’s Eve, 1899, and its mood a mix of forward-looking optimism and backwards-looking regret, Nights at the Circus crosses centuries, literally and metaphorically. It’s no surprise it felt like a blend of music hall, cabaret, and burlesque, enlivened with cheeky contemporary touches. Ollie Mann’s over-endowed strongman wore a Borat-style mankini, and Sam Bright’s sinister clown- perhaps inevitably- brought to mind Heath Ledger’s Joker. But these were sly winks, not slavish imitations, and the production had its own unique mood and style.
Angela Carter’s writing revels in the bizarre and the grotesque: a circus-master advised by his pet piglet, a mute tiger-taming Princess, a sinister brothel patron obsessed with wings and diamonds. Nights at the Circus eagerly embraces this spirit, with brilliant staging and strong, effortlessly flexible performances creating some thrilling and chilling moments of theatre on a limited budget. At its best, Nights seamlessly melded choreography, music and performance to mix circus spectacle with a narrative that was by turns engrossing, funny, and tragic. At its worst…
The second act felt the victim of poor pacing: while I wouldn’t have wanted to miss any of the stark musical sequences, many of the remaining scenes felt rushed, and, occasionally, difficult to understand. This wasn’t helped by sometimes having the orchestra performing over the dialogue, perhaps at the prompting of a rather overenthusiastic conductor. All this meant that a story that was, in any case, elaborate and sprawling occasionally became almost impossible to follow.
Nights at the Circus is commendably ambitious, and, for the most part, achieves what it sets out to do. It has occasional problems of pacing, an uneven narrative, and confusing scenes. However, it is a production with tremendous style. Most plays- especially student plays- fail because they think too small, have too few talented actors, too little rehearsal time, too limited a budget. Nights’ failures are because it reaches further, dares to outstrip its limits – and that is impressive in itself. You might not like every scene, but there are real gems here: Fevvers taking wing with the aid of a billowing sheet, a sudden and excellent solo from Caroline Davies’s abused clown’s wife, unexpected sympathy from Natalie Dibsdale’s man-hating ex-prostitute. They just need a little more polishing to shine as more than diamonds in the rough.
With its climax New Year’s Eve, 1899, and its mood a mix of forward-looking optimism and backwards-looking regret, Nights at the Circus crosses centuries, literally and metaphorically. It’s no surprise it felt like a blend of music hall, cabaret, and burlesque, enlivened with cheeky contemporary touches. Ollie Mann’s over-endowed strongman wore a Borat-style mankini, and Sam Bright’s sinister clown- perhaps inevitably- brought to mind Heath Ledger’s Joker. But these were sly winks, not slavish imitations, and the production had its own unique mood and style.
Angela Carter’s writing revels in the bizarre and the grotesque: a circus-master advised by his pet piglet, a mute tiger-taming Princess, a sinister brothel patron obsessed with wings and diamonds. Nights at the Circus eagerly embraces this spirit, with brilliant staging and strong, effortlessly flexible performances creating some thrilling and chilling moments of theatre on a limited budget. At its best, Nights seamlessly melded choreography, music and performance to mix circus spectacle with a narrative that was by turns engrossing, funny, and tragic. At its worst…
The second act felt the victim of poor pacing: while I wouldn’t have wanted to miss any of the stark musical sequences, many of the remaining scenes felt rushed, and, occasionally, difficult to understand. This wasn’t helped by sometimes having the orchestra performing over the dialogue, perhaps at the prompting of a rather overenthusiastic conductor. All this meant that a story that was, in any case, elaborate and sprawling occasionally became almost impossible to follow.
Nights at the Circus is commendably ambitious, and, for the most part, achieves what it sets out to do. It has occasional problems of pacing, an uneven narrative, and confusing scenes. However, it is a production with tremendous style. Most plays- especially student plays- fail because they think too small, have too few talented actors, too little rehearsal time, too limited a budget. Nights’ failures are because it reaches further, dares to outstrip its limits – and that is impressive in itself. You might not like every scene, but there are real gems here: Fevvers taking wing with the aid of a billowing sheet, a sudden and excellent solo from Caroline Davies’s abused clown’s wife, unexpected sympathy from Natalie Dibsdale’s man-hating ex-prostitute. They just need a little more polishing to shine as more than diamonds in the rough.