IT may look like The Muppets, but Avenue Q is not your average children’s show.

NOR is it your average parody of a children’s show. This Tony award-winning musical, largely inspired by Sesame Street, is a politically incorrect, shamelessly sassy crowd-pleaser about making a difference in the world. And it’s doing a good job of it.

Protagonist Princeton, the bright-eyed graduate puppet (voiced by Jon Robyns), is on a mission to discover his ever-elusive ‘purpose’ in life. As the newest arrival in a gritty New York neighbourhood, he finds himself surrounded by struggling compatriots, of both the human and puppet kind.

Among the former, there’s wannabe comedian Brian (Sion Lloyd), his fiancée, Christmas Eve (Jennifer Tanarez) and a landlord named Gary Coleman (Giles Terera) named after the has-been actor whose unfortunate career arc has been made into an official running gag. There’s also blonde vixen puppet Lucy The Slut and sometime girlfriend Kate Monster (both superbly voiced by Julie Atherton).

A lack of funds and employment lead Princeton on a hilarious story of self-discovery as he desperately struggles to follow his dreams. All to an infectious soundtrack of profane ditties like “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist”, “Schadenfreude”, “The Internet Is for Porn” and “You Can Be as Loud as the Hell You Want (When You’re Makin’ Love)”.

Archly educational animated clips flash words and phrases like ‘commitment’ and ‘one-night stand’ on plasma screens on either side of the stage. But it is the twinkly songs and outstanding performances (most notably from Atherton, Terera and Robyns) that sharply demonstrate that ambivalence, indecision and low expectations can be the basis for a thoroughly enjoyable musical.

There is your prerequisite uplifting message about ethnic and sexual diversity and living for the moment, but, undoubtedly the funniest creatures were two blissfully obnoxious Bad Idea Bears who, with their wide eyes and passive pleasantry, appear from nowhere to lead the other characters astray with Absinth Daiquiris all round.

The set is designed by Anna Louizos who created the original Broadway production of Avenue Q, and her ‘Sesame’ streetscape provides a cosy urban setting for the furry friends, with its row of welcoming old tenements setting the scene for over two hours of feel-good fun. But what elevates the show is the way in which composer/creators Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx cut right to the simple truths in life. With its compelling characters and unflinching truths, Avenue Q is definitely the most human of comedies.

First published on The London Word, August 2007.
© Abbey Stirling

The grand entrance to Gilgamesh says it all: red carpet, flambeaus, escalators rising from the madness of Camden market bound for culinary heaven. And when we reach the top what meets us defies all expectations, for inside is a vast palatial shrine; a bejewelled Babylon tribute of Eastern opulence and a unique dining experience to titillate all of the senses.

THE ornate surroundings demand your attention first: there’s the intricate artwork, the hand-crafted furniture, the marbled pillars, the beaten bronze panels, the 40-foot high ceiling with a retractable roof… there’s a lot to take in. And that’s even before we behold the seven-foot drag queen compare ‘Pixie’ up on stage. She’s heckling diners seated at the front as she introduces tonight’s class cabaret act: Globe Girls. Never before has drag and dim sum worked so well.

As we’re seated and the leggy lovelies kick off their two-hour spectacle, ‘bitch’ is the word of the evening. The Girls switch show-stopping outfits quicker than you can say ‘gender bender’, lip-synching old favourites a la Priscilla Queen of the Desert (in rainbow bikinis and blonde afro wigs), Chicago (in black PVC corsets and fishnets) and Grease (in leotards and satin Pink Lady jackets).

These table-dancing, cat-fighting, inflatable boob wearing performers certainly make for an interesting (but never intrusive) modern musical dining experience, flirting with the audience, allowing just enough inter-costume change time for audience table chat.

But if you didn’t catch Globe Girls before their season end (last Monday – sorry to be a tease) there’s an abundance of forthcoming events at Gilgamesh to keep you amused, including further live acts, guest DJs and cooking master classes.

Performances aside, the restaurant’s Pan-Asian menu certainly holds its own, with swift service and fresh and unfussy food. There’s a good selection of salads, small dishes and sushi (the delectable house special includes avocado, tobiko, salmon, tuna and white fish) but dim sum is where Head Chef Ian Pengelley excels. Our scallop siu mai (open top dumpling steamed with prawns) is succulent and juicy, while the prawn spring rolls, coated in a white sesame seed batter, are crunchy and flavoursome without seeming fatty.

First published on The London Word, February 2009.
© Abbey Stirling

Hoodies are given a bad rap nowadays. Barely a day goes by without some damaging press report highlighting Britain’s violent crime epidemic and the sorry state of our society due to the fearsome youngsters in hooded tops who symbolise social disorder.

DAVID Cameron proposed saving the nation with his patronising ‘Hug a Hoodie’ campaign, claiming that hooded youths are a ‘misunderstood breed’ who just need some love.

Then there are the unnecessary police searches, the stats designed to instil fear (‘there’s a knife-related incident every 52 minutes’) and Boris Johnson’s recent pledge to teach London’s kids dead languages like Latin and Ancient Greek to stop them knifing each other.

What they don’t focus on is urban culture’s encouragement of creative expression. Banksy’s recent Cans Festival took a disused road tunnel in south London and transformed it into a giant exhibition space filled with colourful, contemporary graffiti art (one of the stand-out murals was of a symbolic self-harming Hoodie) – an art form that was once seen as unsightly vandalism.

And of course there’s hip hop. Urban culture can take full credit for creating this expressive phenomenon that began in New York in the ‘70s and is one of today’s most predominant music forces, the main elements of which include rapping, DJing, tagging and breakdancing.

So it must come as a relief to hip hop supporters that these positive aspects of the culture are now being celebrated at the Novello theatre in the ‘London fairytale’ Into the Hoods. A ghetto fabulous hip hop dance spectacle with a full narrative and boundless energy, the show was dreamed up in 2005 by Kate Prince who took its characters from traditional fairy tales (as Stephen Sondheim did in his 1986 musical Into the Woods) and put them on the Ruff Endz Estate.

There’s vinyl-spinning Spinderella (Teneisha Bonner) a female DJ with rippling abs; vivacious rapper Rap-On-Zel (Rhimes Lecointe); the hoodie-clad R&B singer Lil’ Red (Sacha Chang); two-timing hip-hop Lothario Prince (Roger Davies); and beat-making, basement-residing producer Jaxx (Rowen Hawkins). As well as this there’s an ensemble cast of smart, sassy street dancers who bop, crump and breakdance their way through a montage of hip-hop, R&B, soul and pop songs that fit perfectly with the modern story.

To get to the fitness level of any of these performers would take a remarkable discipline somewhere in-between that of a dancer and an athlete. The cast of Into the Hoods all display incredible physical strength, stamina and flexibility, as they bounce off the walls for over two hours. They represent a faction that takes its inspiration not from violence, anti-social behaviour and gang culture, but from music, creativity, performance and perseverance.

Into the Hoods is a shining celebration of London’s youth, and a fantastic opportunity to access a generation that may not otherwise be interested in live theatre – a world too often dominated by stuffy, middle-aged, middle-classers with plenty of disposable income. It’s encouraging to see London’s gritty inner-city represented on the West End stage, and to see some hoodies getting a really good rap.

First published on The London Word, June 2008.
© Abbey Stirling

Turn on, tune in, drop out. So goes the famous line coined by an infamous legend: psychologist, philosopher, ex-Harvard professor, author, teacher and tripper Timothy Leary.

LEARY, remembered mostly for his unabashed hedonism and endorsement of LSD for its therapeutic and spiritual benefits, was many things to many people: a ‘Galileo of Consciousness’ and a ‘revolutionary avatar of the mind’. To some he was a radical guru praised for his psychedelic drug experimentation (he was known to have consumed over 5,000 acid trips in his 75 years). To Richard Nixon he was “the most dangerous man in America”.

On a personal level Leary shared his private life with six women who all, at some stage during his controversial countercultural existence, became his wives. This play, The Six Wives of Timothy Leary, chronicles their stories in a series of monologues and interactive scenes as each reflects on the highs and ‘highs’ of being married to the revolutionary messiah.

Wife number one, Marianne (Hetty Abbott), opens the play engaging in some flirty banter with a guest at a party. She is a delicate, vulnerable figure in a glamourous ball dress and white trainers, addressing the audience while waving a champagne glass as she alludes to her husband across the room.

Abbott’s American accent fluctuates, but her monologue (her only appearance on stage) gives a convincing portrayal of the late Marianne, a (seemingly lonely) postpartum depressive and heavy drinker who went on to commit suicide on Leary’s 35th birthday (his daughter was to follow suit years later).

His second wife Mary (Lisa Came) speaks to a journalist at a restaurant while recounting her relationship with the American. One of the strongest performers in the play, Came’s (presumably) genuine American accent distinguishes her from her peers, allowing the audience to focus on her brilliant performance (something that became difficult to do while listening to Charlotte Donachie’s unconvincing American twang).

Anna Brook is a fantastically funny Nena, the Swedish fashion model and Leary’s third wife. There are some lovely comic moments in her homage to her late husband, as she recounts her acid-drenched past with Leary to her current lover.

And so the drama continues as each woman recalls her past experience: hippie chick Rosemary (Donachie) addresses a rally, flighty Joanna (Katharine Bennett-Fox: a tremendous actress with wide eyes and a flare for comedy) visits Leary in prison, and last wife Barbara (Alison Baker) talks to his spirit at his funeral.

With so many different declarations and experiences to be heard over a 40-year period, the play could easily collapse into a confusing jumble, but director Timothy Hughes keeps the story tight, and directs a cast of well-defined characters, each with their own voice and look, from the 1950s right through to the Nineties.

It is an insightful and unfussy production that explores a man who may not have treated his women with the value or respect they deserved, but obviously had a mesmerising effect on all those close to him.

First published on The London Word, June 2008.
© Abbey Stirling

Just the experience of being at the Cinema Haymarket’s press night for Brief Encounter is a spectacle in itself, and that’s before the show has even started.

MEMBERS of the theatre company, dressed in classic black usher and usherette attire, guide people to their seats. A chirpy jazz band performs romantic ditties as the audience – many of whom are dressed in appropriate Forties costumes – shuffle in. Butterkist toffee popcorn is available, and a spoof classification certificate appears on the big screen: “suitable for viewing by the incurably romantic”.

Director Emma Rice’s latest creative stage effort has very cleverly adapted Noel Coward’s 1945 film into a play, experimenting with both the stage and screen mediums with additional material from Coward’s earlier one-act play Still Life (1936).

Rice’s Kneehigh Company adds some original little twists to the play: the lovers swing on chandeliers, the sound of rainfall is created by a watering can on tin, Laura’s children are impersonated by puppets and actors walk into the giant screen, immediately transformed into a black and white, one-dimensional film image. Touches like this really take what could have been a straight-forward, mundane play and made it into an artistic masterpiece.

This touching love story begins at the Milford railway refreshment room where our central characters meet after a bit of grit flies into the eye of respectable housewife Laura (Naomi Frederick). Tristan Sturrock’s doctor Alec comes to her rescue, and from there begins a brief romantic encounter to a beautiful live soundtrack, which is very often performed by the onstage actors and musicians.

Naomi Frederick is a sincere and sensitive Laura, capturing the character’s pain and passion in this frustrating romance. Sturrock is equally as touching in his performance, portraying Alec’s doctor as a charming and innocent gentleman caught up in a poignant, unconsummated love affair. Also worth a mention is Tamzin Griffin who is very funny as Myrtle, the fluttery refreshment room assistant.

Brief Encounter is an enjoyable success with some theatrical flourishes that make the whole experience that extra special: Champagne is served at the entrance, tea and cucumber sandwiches are dished up at the interval and some filmed comedy sketches are projected onto the screen. It is an inventive and faithful homage to Coward’s unforgettable film.

First published on The London Word, March 2008.
© Abbey Stirling