Dare to Scare: The Art of Theatrical Frights

Time to risk injury carving faces in pumpkins and don ridiculous outfits replete with buckets of fake blood; Halloween is here once again. Those too old to trick-or-treat and visit haunted houses might seek their Halloween thrills elsewhere and one place to satisfy their lust for horror is the stage. 


Theatreland has plenty on offer for those looking for a few frights, with two spooky plays - the long-running Woman in Black and the Duke of York's Ghost Stories - currently in residence in the West End. Ghost Stories even put on a special midnight Halloween performance last night for those who had not already had their fill of terror. But what exactly does it take to give audience members the chills?


For me it is the unseen which is the most powerful. Plays can never compete with the CGI and special effects available to film and too much blood on stage can be frankly embarrassing. Traditionally it is ghost stories that have the most success, perhaps aided by tales of haunted West End theatres. The Woman in Black, which this summer celebrated 21 years in the Fortune Theatre, is an excellent example of how successful a ghost story brought to stage can be.


I saw The Woman in Black several years ago as a GCSE Drama student and I was dubious to say the least. Could a play really be that scary? In the wake of scores of horror movies, today's youth don't scare very easily and I refused to see how a stage play, without the aid of the special effects at the disposal of film-makers, could terrify an audience. As others who have seen the play will not be surprised to hear, I left the theatre with a very different opinion.


The beauty of this play is that it draws on the reserves of imagination, always showing just enough but not too much. Without giving anything away, one of the most effective elements of the production is its use of sound effects; the concept is simple but the result is terrifying. Although I thought that the screams of some of my fellow audience members were a bit much (you might have worked out by now that bad audience behaviour is one of my pet hates) I was genuinely spooked and vividly remember waking up in the middle of the night after seeing it in a fit of terror. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration, but I was scared.


It is those plays that can touch on our deepest psychological fears that are more successful than those that merely attempt to shock. An example of truly disturbing theatre is Martin McDonagh's The Pillowman, an excellent student production of which I recently saw and reviewed. Very little is actually depicted on stage, but as we hear Katurian telling his twisted stories our imaginations do all the work - this is the genius of McDonagh's writing.


Of course there are also plays that do not purport to belong to the horror genre but scare nonetheless. I found the Lyric Hammersmith's Punk Rock utterly terrifying at moments, perhaps because the events, rather than being a far-fetched ghost story or thriller, were chillingly believable. I am also someone who jumps very easily, so anything with a gunshot is sure to make me leap out of my seat in shock. My heart was even thumping in fear for about five minutes after the climax of Blood Brothers.


I am far from having a formula for scaring audiences, but my general conclusion is that less is usually more. If anyone has any more suggestions of fright-inducing plays or perhaps if any readers braved last night's performance of Ghost Stories, please leave a comment.


Happy Halloween!

Five Reasons to Start a Theatre Blog

This week is a very exciting week for me and for anyone else blogging about all things theatrical.  This week, as I was informed by the twittersphere, is Theatre Blogger Week.  Hurrah!  So in between frantically writing essays and trying desperately to think of a dissertation title (blind panic is the phrase that comes to mind!) I have taken some time to think about all the things I love about theatre blogging.

It has not been very long since I dipped my toe into the rather large pool of theatre blogs, but I would like to share my limited wisdom with the world and in particular with anyone else out there thinking of blogging about their theatre experiences.  Here are just five of the many reasons why theatre blogging rocks and you should all go out and do it:

1. Sharing your passion.  I personally have massive respect for anyone who has a passion for anything.  It might be, like me, that your passion is theatre, or it could be books (another passion of mine), music (ditto), sports, stamp collecting – whatever floats your boat!  You might even have a passion for something slightly bizarre that not many other people understand (such as my flatmate, who has an interest bordering on obsession with hurricanes ...).  But there is probably someone else out there who feels as strongly as you do about this particular thing and would like to hear your ramblings on that subject.  Obviously I'm especially interested in reading blogs by other people who are passionate about theatre, but whatever your interest, share it with the world; sharing is good.

2. Getting bitten by the writing bug. I’m someone who has loved writing for pretty much as long as I could hold a pen, but I’ve spoken to other people who never thought about writing until they started a blog and then realised that they loved it.  Writing can be extremely therapeutic and even if not many people read what you’ve written (as I suspect may be the case with my blog) there’s still a lot that you can get out of it.

3. Engaging with others. This goes back to my first point about sharing your passion. Once you have discovered these wonderful people who have the same interest as you it’s great to read what they have to say about it and respond with your own thoughts and vice versa. Like sharing, communication is good. So if you have an opinion about anything I’ve written in my blog, leave me a comment – I dare you.

4. Constructive feedback. If, eventually, you get enough readers that people in the industry start to notice your little blog, it's a great way to show the actors and creative teams behind our wonderful theatre that you appreciate what they do for a living. In these dark days for the arts when funding cuts threaten our theatres we all need to show our support in whatever way we can, and blogging can be a great way of illustrating to those who control the purse-strings just how many people value theatre and how much it contributes to British society. Unfortunately I don't yet have anywhere near the number of readers to make much of an impact, but a girl can dream!

5. Doing what you love. I love theatre. I love writing. So as something that combines two of my greatest loves, theatre blogging is pretty much perfect. I have also found that since starting this blog I have been engaging with the theatre I see far more than I did in the past and it is a spur to go out there and see more and more shows. For me (and this is after only a couple of months) theatre blogging has been such a rewarding experience and I would recommend anyone with an interest in theatre to try it for themselves.

So go on, give it a try, write a blog of your own, whether it's about theatre or anything else you want to write about (perhaps even hurricanes!). If anyone reading this already has a blog and can think of more reasons why it's amazing then please leave a comment. And as it's Theatre Blogger Week it would be great to know about other interesting/funny/wacky theatre blogs out there.

Review: Southampton Theatre Group's production of The Pillowman, Annex Theatre, Wednesday 27 October 2010

Once upon a time Martin McDonagh wrote a disturbing, haunting play called The Pillowman. A sinister tale concerned with the ancient craft of storytelling, it is the perfect play to stage at Halloween, against the backdrop of chilling ghost stories whispered between friends. McDonagh questions the impact that literature can have upon its readers, as his protagonist Katurian is arrested in a police state following a series of child murders that bear an eerie resemblance to his dark short stories.

The first scenes of the play hover in the murky zone between fact and fiction, with the line between storytelling and reality repeatedly blurred. It is not always clear where Katurian’s fabricated fictions end and the truth begins, whilst his police interrogators Tupolski and Ariel frequently employ deceit in an effort to force him into a confession. Interwoven into the plot are terrifying retellings and enactments of Katurian’s stories, one of which, under the veil of fiction, exposes his own horrific childhood and begins to explain his twisted tales.

Theatre Group’s production, ably directed by Rob McGough and Sam Gray and produced by Hannah Griffiths, works wonders with a basic space. The Annex Theatre is transformed into the gloomy, intimidating interrogation room, faintly lit by a single, flickering overhead lightbulb. In a master stroke, audience members enter the auditorium in almost complete darkness, the only light illuminating a distressed and blindfolded Katurian on stage, establishing a tense atmosphere from the outset.

In an impressive cast, Richard Copperwaite in particular stands out as the central character of Katurian, convincing both as the cowering captive and the disturbed master storyteller. At crucial moments his horror is utterly believable and he adds the softness to Katurian, particularly in the scenes with his brother, which is necessary to invite audience sympathy. But it is when he is narrating Katurian’s gruesome stories that he is at his best, with a menacing glint in his eyes that has the power to truly terrify.

He is well supported by fellow cast members Irene Babille and Sam Beath as interrogators Tupolski and Ariel respectively. Babille brings a contained anger to the character of Tupolski which occasionally spills over in excellently judged outbursts and she inserts one brief moment of subtle vulnerability as a counterpoint to her otherwise consistent cynicism. In the early scenes Beath comes across as a relatively two-dimensional ‘bad cop’, but as we gradually learn about his past the performance becomes more nuanced and his anger assumes a tragic air. Alexis Forss also does well as Katurian’s mentally disturbed brother Michael, lending childlike innocence to the role whilst handling the dark comedy successfully, but there were moments where he did not entirely convince.

Although I found McDonagh’s play clever, chilling and thought-provoking, I was ultimately unsure what he is trying to say about storytelling and morality. His question about the power of literature to influence others is never effectively answered; one wonders if his aim was to be provocative rather than to engage with larger issues.

Perhaps we are intended to make our own conclusions, but I am still formulating mine. In the meantime I will have to hope that the nightmares remain at bay.

Review: Les Miserables, Queen's Theatre, Saturday 16 October 2010

It is no secret that I am a fan of Les Miserables - a quick glance at my post in honour of the musical's 25th anniversary will tell you that much. So I was in two minds about reviewing my most recent outing to Queen's Theatre this weekend; I would hardly be writing from a wholly objective standpoint. But I have placed my doubts aside to set down my impressions of the current production of Les Mis, a production that has been slightly neglected of late, standing in the shadow of its anniversary sister production.

Saturday's performance had much to recommend it. Good thing number 1) excellent audience behaviour. This is completely unrelated to the production itself, but considering that last time I went to see Les Mis my fellow audience members repeatedly changed seats, talked during the performance and answered mobile phone calls (I've expressed my ire regarding this in a previous post), this made a vast difference to my experience. Of course this might have had something to do with the fact that I was sitting in the dress circle (thanks to my wonderful parents!) rather than right at the back of the theatre ...

Good thing number 2) some outstanding performances from the cast. Simon Bowman is an excellent Jean Valjean, providing the heart of the show and delivering a deeply moving rendition of 'Bring Him Home'. For me John Owen Jones will always be the ultimate Valjean and he is a hard act to rival, but Bowman comes very close. Another highlight is Samantha Barks' heartbreaking Eponine, her impressive performance coming as a pleasant surprise; from the initial promise she showed in the BBC's 'I'd Do Anything' she has improved almost beyond recognition.

The production design has barely changed since I last saw the show, the set with its masterful revolving stage as effective as ever. There is arguably slight overkill with the dry ice, but in moments such as the sewer scene this proves extremely evocative of the setting. Striking images abound, with the sight of Enjolras' body on the barricades wrapped in the red flag etched vividly upon my memory.

Of course the show is not without its weaknesses. Despite excellent comic timing, Martin Ball's Thenardier is somewhat lacking and his vocals are underwhelming, whilst I found Alistair Brammer's Marius a little halting. I have also always thought the staging of Javert's suicide disappointing, lacking the visual impact to back up the emotional punch of the music.

Nevertheless, my verdict is that after 25 years Les Miserables is still fresh and capable of delivering the same emotional impact to audiences night after night, as the overwhelming standing ovation testifies. For me at least the magic has not faded.

The Spending Review: Curtain Call for the Arts?

Originally written for Wessex Scene.

With the Spending Review due on 20 October 2010, public services across the country are bracing themselves for deep and potentially damaging cuts. In the arts community, particularly in the wake of the shock abolition of the UK Film Council, there is concern about whether the delicate arts ecosystem will survive the spending cull.

Against the backdrop of a huge budget deficit, all public services must expect to receive cuts to their funding and the arts should by no means be exempt. However, the arts budget comprises only a tiny portion of overall public spending and the expected cuts of between 25% and 30% could have a disastrous impact on the arts industry.

So are the arts about to take their final bow? If you value the arts in your local community there are still ways to get involved and protect a vital part of British culture.

One of the most high profile campaigns to rally against the cuts is the I Value the Arts initiative, led by the National Campaign for the Arts (NCA). This campaign urges the public to pledge their support for the arts by registering on their website (ivaluethearts.org.uk) and sends email updates to supporters letting them know about how arts provision in their area may be affected.

Another campaign that is gaining momentum is Save the Arts, backed by leading artists including Anish Kapoor, Damien Hirst and Tracey Emin. More good news for arts lovers comes in the form of an online petition started by Luisa Summers which has attracted the attention of David Cameron. Despite the government’s abolition of the E-petitions system, the Prime Minister has promised to debate arts funding in parliament if Summers’ petition garners over 100,000 signatures.

However, even if these campaigns achieve some success, the British arts community will inevitably be forced to adapt to the economic climate. The silver lining is that the looming cuts are prompting innovative funding solutions for the future.

One alternative to the economic crutch of public spending is greater investment from individuals. This is the model followed in the USA, where nearly all arts funding comes from private philanthropy, and could be adopted to a greater extent in the UK if public funding is withdrawn.

Broadway is breaking new ground by introducing crowd funding for Ken Davenport’s new production of Godspell, allowing individuals to make a minimum investment of $1,000 (roughly £640) rather than the usual $50,000 to $100,000. For this sum, investors will be credited as producers and could even profit if the show is successful. If this scheme proves popular we could eventually see a similar approach to theatre funding in this country.

As well as a greater focus on fundraising, the Guardian’s Lyn Gardner has suggested that collaboration and cooperation within the arts community could be a way of riding out the economic storm. The National Theatre, for example, is in discussion with other theatres including the Royal Court and the Lyric Hammersmith about sharing functions such as box office and storage, recognising its responsibility to support the wider British arts scene.

There are positive omens for the future of the arts. The National Theatre has shown the way for others with the phenomenal success of War Horse, which made £2.5 million surplus last year, proving that the arts can still be commercially profitable even in these difficult times. Arts organisations might also look to the example of the Royal Opera House, which raised an impressive £19 million last year from donations and sponsorships alone.

No one can predict exactly what will be the long-term effects of the approaching cuts, but there is little doubt that the arts are a vital part of the make-up of Britain, both culturally and economically. This cornerstone of British culture needs to be preserved, and the easiest way for the average person to protect the arts for the future is to invest personally in them with their custom.

So see the next play at the Nuffield, take a look at an exhibition in the John Hansard Gallery or go to the ballet at the Mayflower. No matter what the government announces on 20 October, the show must go on.

One Day More - Les Miserables at 25

It was love at first sight (or, more accurately, first hearing). At the age of fifteen, Les Miserables was the show that made me fall blindly, head over heels in love with the musical. My secondary school staged a production of the show and for a whole term I immersed myself in the world of Jean Valjean, Marius and Eponine. At one point I knew the words to the entire soundtrack and given the chance today I could probably still sing along to most of the songs – unfortunately for anyone within earshot. In the midst of the show’s 25th anniversary celebrations, I feel that I should dedicate a blog post to the musical that first ignited my love of the genre.

It is a strange thought that Les Mis is older than I am, starting four years before I was even born. Twenty five successful years in the West End is no mean feat, and the extraordinary longevity of Les Mis is even more impressive when contrasted with the recent spate of musicals posting closing notices. I for one am ecstatic that this musical is still very much alive and kicking, but how long is too long?

Biased as I may be, I can see that Les Mis is not without its faults. Victor Hugo’s dauntingly long novel, one of many weighty tomes on my ever-growing ‘to read’ list, must have been a challenge to condense down into two and a half hours. When the show opened this was one of the main complaints of several less than favourable reviews; how advisable is it to reduce a 1,200 page book into a two act musical? Relationships take priority over politics and it is perfectly possible to leave the theatre deeply moved by Jean Valjean’s struggle but unenlightened about the 1832 uprisings.

Michael Billington, asked if he repents his initially cool review of Les Mis in 1985, maintains that he views the show as little more than ‘spectacular Victorian melodrama’; a simple, crowd-pleasing tale of good and evil that should not masquerade as anything more serious. I admire him for at least sticking to his guns. Looking at the clutch of four star reviews for the Barbican anniversary production, one does wonder if the critical turnaround has been influenced by the intervening 25 years of phenomenal success the show has enjoyed.

However, I must disagree with Billington about what he terms the ‘melodrama’ of Les Mis. I am sure that the show inevitably lacks much of the political and social punch of Hugo’s book, but a novel and a musical are two very different beasts. When Hugo wrote the novel it confronted issues of its time that when staged today appear as distant history to audiences. This was never intended to be a deeply political show and would not work as one. The aim of theatre, in the words of Hamlet, is ‘to hold as ’twere the mirror up to nature’ – an aim in which I believe Les Mis, by reflecting the ever-changing image of human nature, succeeds.

The element of the show that has theatregoers rising in a standing ovation at the end of every performance and leaves them choked with emotion and eager to return is the emotional resonance of the characters’ plight. By reducing the musical to a showdown between the ‘good’ Valjean and ‘evil’ Javert, Billington is unjustly simplifying a drama that is essentially about the human condition. I challenge any audience member to not sympathise with Javert as his existence is thrown into turmoil after the light is shone on the misguided principles by which he has lived his life. This is no melodrama of black and white.

Unfortunately I was not at the 25th anniversary concerts at the O2 (I have my limited student budget to blame) but from what I hear they were pretty spectacular. One does wonder how Cameron Mackintosh will top this year’s birthday celebrations if Les Mis reaches another significant milestone. I also wonder if a time will come when Les Mis outlives its welcome in the West End.

But for now Les Mis is stronger than ever. I will be returning again to the first musical to capture my heart in a couple of weeks’ time at its permanent home in Queen’s Theatre and I am just as excited as I was five years ago hearing those beautiful, haunting and rousing tunes for the first time. Les Mis lives for ‘One Day More’ – and many more days after that I suspect.