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Manchester/London March 2017 |
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Throughout the years of travelling to London for theatre, I have always tried to also see other places and areas of my beloved island. Some years ago I had gone up north to see Liverpool, Blackpool and Chester, but had skipped Manchester on the thought that there wasn't much to see in a town mostly linked with commerce and football. A decision I later regretted, so I was glad when a chance presented itself to see a new musical in Manchester. Germanwings had a very convenient flight directly to Manchester Airport that got me there around noon, so I had plenty of time for a bit of sightseeing as well.
Manchester is best known as the cradle of industrialization, the invention of "Manchester Capitalism" and dominating the textile trade until the early 20th century. As nations like India took over, where manufacturing was (a lot) cheaper, Manchester's traditional industries (along with the big harbour next door in Liverpool) faded to nothing. The old industrial area of Castlefield with its canals, warehouses and factories has been spruced up in recent years, so it was my first destination for sightseeing, too. Luckily the weather held up with sun, wind and some cloud but mercifully no rain. The Rochdale towpath I had meant to wander along was closed, but I somehow managed to find my way around nonethless. My chief destination being the vast Museum of Science and Industry which showcases Manchester's history.
It was full of amazing stuff, not just old textile mills, but also the world's very first computer, which lined an entire wall and yet was called "Baby". Here's Baby and one of the old mills that once supplied half the world with cheap cloth.
There was an awful lot more to see in the five large buildings that made up the museum, so I can't show them all, but here a few fun bits: An early phone exchange, when connections were still made by hand, a steam train "sawn in half" to show its inner workings, some beautiful ancient cars and a replica of the world's very first train, the Rocket.
What really struck me most was, how much we today owe to those people who tried and tested and fiddled with stuff in 18th and 19th century and invented the modern world as we know it and I'd say the museum alone is worth a day trip to Manchester. I took a longer break at the hotel then, where I could finally check in, before setting off again, this time for a look around the city centre (including the magnificent town hall in the picture above) and dinner.
Finally it was time to head for my first show, "Bat out of Hell" at the Manchester Opera House for which I was joined by a lovely local chap called Matthew, who had earlier helped me with a few questions regarding Manchester and had decided to tag along for the show.
It may seem surprising that I'd pick a jukebox musical out of all things to trudge up north for, but I'm a sucker for great rock music and the inherent theatricality of Jim Steinman's legendary songs for Meat Loaf at least make for good adaptations on stage. When it was announced for Manchester, the transfer to London had not been certain yet and anyway, tickets and hotel being cheaper in Manchester made up for the train fare down to London, so it was fine.
The plot is as preposterously bonkers as that of its spiritual predecessor "We Will Rock You", to which it bears a bunch of similarities such as the setting in a near future when the world is ruled by greedy corporate wankers, while rebellious yoof lives underground. Though I guess it makes sense as rock music had always been about rebellion. A new thing was the lurve story between one of the rebellious boys (very blonde, very talented yank Andrew Polec) and Raven, daughter of the local magnate Falco (Rob Fowler, who spent many years doing time in Germany in various shows). The designers pulled out all stops for an amazingly busy overblown stage set to show post-apocalyptic Obsidian (aka New York City) with motorbikes and s full sized convertible that was pushed into the orchestra pit at one point for a fairly funny effect.
But honestly, I didn't care for the nonsensical plot, I hadn't expected anything else from a jukebox musical like this. The songs were amazing and the staging of the nearly ten minute long rock classic "Bat out of Hell", closing the first act, was worth the ticket price alone. Most of the cast were amazing, with the one exception perhaps of "Raven" Christina Bennington who suffered from bland leading chick syndrome and didn't really have the powerhouse vocals required for Steinman's rock music, especially compared to Polec and Fowler, who were nothing short of fantastic. On the female side, Danielle Steers as Zahara blew everyone else clean out of the water and I'll be damned if she doesn't turn up as Effie in Dreamgirls sooner or later. Overall it was completely ridiculous but immensely entertaining and the audience just went wild throughout. The lady next to me was singing and moving along so much, she actually apologized in the interval - but I told her to carry on, it somehow seemed oddly fitting. If the London audiences will go half as wild for this during the Coliseum run this summer, a West End transfer should be quite on the cards.
Next morning it was time to head south on Virgin Trains, which delivered me safely to Euston. Since I was in London for one night only, I had decided to splash out for a nice hotel for once and opted for the plush Rubens by the Palace, next door to Queen Liz (and the St. James Theatre). I could check in and relish for a while in my gorgeously swanky room with a chandelier on the ceiling, huge bed and wonderful bathtub. I wouldn't have had time for bigger things in the West End anyway, nor any urgent business, so I just enjoyed a nice Japanese lunch at Wagamama at the new-fangled complex in Victoria before heading for my first show, Albee's classic drama "Who's afraid of Virgina Woolf?", best known for the movie version starring Elizabeth Taylor and real-life husband Richard Burton as perpetually warring married couple Martha and George.
It was the cast, that attracted me to this version - Imelda Staunton is certainly on course to become one of those living British theatre legends and after blowing me away in Sweeney Todd and Gypsy, I was keen to see her in a straight play. Her partner is Conleth Hill, whose snarky Varys has always been one of the best characters in Game of Thrones, so I was just as eager to see him live and with all his hair (it turned out, I HAD already seen him live years ago in the London production of The Producers, but even I can't remember everyone!). They were joined by Luke Treadaway, the Olivier-winning first Christopher in "The Curious Incident of the Dog at Night-Time" and TV/film actress Imogen Poots in her stage debut. All four of them were fantastic, though it was really Hill, who held the show together for me and should win every drama award going this season. Someone should have told Imelda to dial it down just a wee bit at times - how she manages to shout so much over three hours, eight times a week, is beyond me. It's a looong play at three hours, but definitely one of those drama classics one should have seen at some point and I'm glad I did.
Afterwards I was glad for some air as I strolled back through St. James Park to have a simple baguette for dinner in my fancy hotel room (with my shoes off) before popping over to the St. James Theatre almost literally next door, now re-christened The Other Palace by the Lord himself, who bought the building a while ago to turn it into a tryout space for new musicals. Their first offering was not a new show though, but the London premiere of Michael John LaChiusa's musical "The Wild Party" which had run on Broadway some years ago and had now assembled a fine cast. Turned out I was bloody lucky - the Thursday performance AND the Saturday matinee had been cancelled due to illness, but the Saturday evening performance was going ahead. Apparently they had rallied because it was also the last performance. Unlike last November, where I could dash to another theatre last-minute, I would have been pretty stuck in Victoria half an hour before curtain time.
The show's plot is in the title - basically it's just a "wild party" of assorted flappers, vaudevillians and never-do-wells in the Manhattan of the Roaring Twenties. It's based on a poem that apparently caused quite the scandal back then. The music is early jazz and very enjoyable and most of the cast were excellent. Victoria Hamilton-Barrit has been everywhere in recent years and here she was again, stealing the show as sassy Kate. Among the biggest names was Broadway veteran Donna McKechnie (the original Cassie in A Chorus Line) as fading diva Dolores. The technical leads were the party's hosts, homicidal clown Burrs, played by eternal Phantom/Valjean John Owen Jones and Queenie, played by Frances Ruffelle, the very first Eponine of the 80s. Now the poem says "Queenie was a blonde and her age stood still..." and that most certainly goes for Ms Ruffelle - with general helpings of botox I would assume. She has that strange mask-like face that doesn't really show much emotion, doesn't -really- look young, but not comfortably middle-aged either. So I'm sorry to say, she didn't really do it for me in the lead, but overall it was quite an entertaining evening and the perfect antidote to the tense drama of the afternoon.
Since I had flown into Manchester on Friday, I had no choice but to fly back as well, opting for a flight to Duesseldorf, which was at least 2.5 hrs earlier than the first flight to Cologne. In a way that was lucky as I could enjoy a big breakfast at my fancy digs without having to rush to the early Eurostar to Brussels, but all the hassle at Heathrow and the stuffy overheated plane, which was also 15 mins late, made me miss my darling train once more - and it'll back to the railway for me next time!
