REVIEW: On the buses in John Godber’s Men Of The World, Harrogate Theatre ****

Paul Hawkyard, left, Robin Simpson and Janine Mellor as “the Beverley Sisters” in Men Of The World at Harrogate Theatre

HT Rep in Men Of The World, Harrogate Theatre/Phil & Ben Productions, at Harrogate Theatre tonight, 7.30pm; tomorrow, 2.30pm and 7.30pm. Box office: 01423 502116 or harrogatetheatre.co.uk

WEEK three of HT Rep’s season of Three Plays, Three Weeks, One Cast marks the 20th anniversary of John Godber’s melancholic comedy road trip.

Mirroring the old repertory days of a company of actors taking on myriad roles in quick succession, Men Of The World takes that opportunity even further by having Paul Hawkyard, Robin Simpson and Janine Mellor play not only northern coach drivers Stick, Larry and Frankie but also everyone who hops on board.

Godber has them preparing for a mystery trip to Scarborough (ah, the mystery of Scarborough) , but this turns out to be trip down memory lane, in the nostalgic tradition of Godber’s Happy Jack and September In The Rain.

He has always liked to take people out of their comfort zone, to make them travel for new experiences, be they Bet and Al heading to the French capital in April In Paris, the skiing novices in On The Piste or ex-miner Don and teacher Carol on a quarrelsome tandem trip to Europe in Scary Bikers.

Last journey for Robin Simpson’s coach driver Larry…or not?

The difference here is that these are two men and one woman of the world are world-weary: Stick, Larry and Frankie have been there, done that, discarded the T-shirt. Their routes home and abroad are so familiar, the quirks of their passengers likewise, so much so, they have given them nicknames.

Yet Godber’s tone is one of compassion, wonder, whimsy and celebration as they recount the memorable trips that add up to “the small, often overlooked moments of magic in our lives”.

Director Amie Burns Walker and designer Geoff Gilder have given Men Of The World a somewhat abstract, even surrealist air, reminiscent of a circus or cabaret tent with striped tarpaulin, to either side of a white-lined road that climbs to the blue yonder. Bags of luggage and a step ladder complete the scene. Don’t take it too literally: this is theatre; this is performance; they are storytellers with a cabaret flourish.

Indeed, Hawkyard, Simpson and Mellor are so relaxed, so attuned to performing on the hoof in pantomime, that when they fluff the opening, they break theatre’s fourth wall, laugh about it and start again, spinning off and back on their carousel, forever carrying luggage.

Such is their comic craft that they can be on both sides of the story, looking in and taking part, and yet still they shock you on occasion: when Simpson’s heavy-smoking Larry, on the cusp of retirement, blows his big moment in clumsily chatting up Mellor’s Frankie after six years of working together, and later when veteran Larry and cocky Stick have their flare-up, recalling Lucky Eric and Judd’s showdown in Bouncers. For all the comedy, these two shuddering moments bring out the very best in the trio.

Paul Hawkyard’s contemptuous coach driver Stick

No matter where they go, Stick, Larry and Frankie and their passengers are forever English, northern, Yorkshire, their character not so much altered by their experiences but reaffirmed by them instead.

To go with the eye for the absurd, there is a bleakness to Men Of The World too, the shadow of approaching death, the third-age travels being accompanied by bellyaches and pains. That’s why the frustrated, even contemptuous Stick prefers taking young’uns to the Costa del Sol, whereas steady-away Larry is a romantic at heart, with his love of Mario Lanzo and affection for ordinary folk taking trips out of the ordinary in later life to rekindle something inside.

Frankie is the stoical, unflappable, wise one, not at a crossroads, unlike Larry, but going wherever life’s road may take her.

Godber’s way of catching characters just so, to make them recognisable yet more than caricatures, is brought to life in Simpson, Hawkyard and Mellor’s realisation of the passengers, from the Beverley Sisters (from Beverley) to the Marx Brothers (a funnier, gloomier Last Of The Summer Wine trio) and double acts Arsenic & Old Lace to Mack & Mabel. A flat cap, a scarf, a mannerism, is all it takes to evoke each character, like a sketch artist.

Godber, by the way, loved this production so much – “they really caught the decaying humanity,” he said – that he will be back, bringing his dad to a performance. No better recommendation required.

Bellyaches and pains: Robin Simpson, Janine Mellor and Paul Hawkyard as Yorkshire’s grouchy Marx Brothers, as played by coach drivers Larry, Frankie and Stick

REVIEW: Charles Hutchinson’s verdict on Abigail’s Party at Harrogate Theatre ****

Elvis is in the building: Beverly (Katy Dean) reaches for a Presley platter as the party atmosphere turns ever more awkward in Abigail’s Party. Paul Hawkyard’s Tony, left, and Robin Simpson’s Laurence keep their distance. Faye Seerawinghe’s Angela, seated, left, and Janine Mellor’s Sue, await with trepidation. All pictures: Ant Robling, Robling Photography

Abigail’s Party, HT Rep, Harrogate Theatre/Phil & Ben Productions, at Harrogate Theatre, 7.30pm tonight and tomorrow; 2.30pm, 7.30pm, Saturday. Box office: 01423 502116 or harrogatetheatre.co.uk

HARROGATE Theatre’s HT Rep 2022 season of Three Plays, Three Weeks, One Cast opens with Mike Leigh’s caustic comedy Abigail’s Party, written in 1977, the year of The Queen’s Silver Jubilee and now revived in the year of her Platinum Jubilee.

Director Marcus Romer, Harrogate Theatre’s associate producer, had planned to have the Sex Pistols’ 1977 anthem God Save The Queen seeping through the walls from Abigail’s punk and booze-fuelled party next door, but the events of last Thursday afternoon saw a respectful change to Anarchy In The UK.

Romer has form for Abigail’s Party, having steered York Theatre Royal’s 2005 repertory production. Now the spirit of rep theatre is being repeated in a third such autumn season at Harrogate, the cast piggy-backing from one play to the next, rehearsing Abigail’s Party for a week, and now rehearsing Patrick Hamilton’s Gaslight by day and staging Leigh’s suburban comedy of awkward social-climbing manners by night.

Husband-and-wife strife in Abigail’s Party: Robin Simpson’s Laurence and Katy Dean’s Beverly having a difference of opinion…again

The same process will follow next week, when Paul Hawkyard, Robin Simpson and Janine Mellor will knock John Godber’s Men Of The World into shape in the daytime rehearsal room under Amy Burns Walker’s direction before Harrogate-born Faye Weerasinghe, Simpson, Harrogate pantomime regular Katy Dean, Mellor and Ian Kirkby form co-producer Ben Roddy’s cast each night for Gaslight.

In rep tradition, there is a familiarity to the cast, not only Dean, but also Mellor from the 2019 HT Rep season’s On The Piste and Deathtrap and her dual roles as Dandini and a Snugly Sister in last winter’s Cinderella, while rising star Weerasinghe played the lead in Full English at Harrogate Theatre in June.

York audiences, meanwhile, will need no introduction to Hawkyard and Simpson, whether from Shakespeare’s Rose Theatre or their Mardy and Manky double act in Cinderella at the Theatre Royal last winter. Captain Hook and Mrs Darling await them in All New Adventures Of Peter Pan this winter.

Now put them all together in surely one of the most destructive yet indestructible of English comedies. Your reviewer is yet to see a duff production and Romer’s return to Leigh is another winner.

The quiet and the constant noise: Janine Mellor’s Sue and Katy Dean’s Beverly

It is Katy Dean’s turn to behave appallingly in the Alison Stedman-patented lead role of gauche Beverly, dark haired this time rather than bottle-blonde but still over-dressed for cheese and pineapple-stick nibbles in her fuchsia party dress.

Embroiled in a stultifying game of one-upmanship with dyspeptic, workaholic property-agent husband Laurence (Simpson), their latest playground for point-scoring is a soiree for their new neighbours, taciturn ex-professional footballer Tony (Hawkyard) and nervous nurse Angela (Weerasinghe) in their oh-so Seventies’ North London living room.

Joining them with reluctance written all over her face is Sue (Mellor), banished from her 15-year-old daughter’s party, fretful that it will get out of hand. as it inevitably does.

Leigh depicts a Britain heading towards the acquisitive Thatcherite era of material greed. Already the status-symbol fibre-optic lamps, drinks cabinet and brown sofas are in place in Geoff Gilder’s design.

Faye Weerasinghe’s Angela, left, and Katy Dean’s Beverly, standing, attend to Janine Mellor’s Sue after one too many top-ups

Tensions rise, tempers flare, the polite veneer gradually erodes under the influence as Dean’s monstrous Beverly has her sport at the hands of her guests and mocked husband amid the surfeit of gin top-ups and chain-smoked “little cigarettes”, with her recourse to Donna Summer, Demis Roussos and Elvis records failing to break the awkwardness.

For all her restless noise and surface swagger, the tactless and tasteless Beverly is lonely behind the perma-cigarette haze, frustrated by the absence of bedroom action, empty too, for all her superficial possessions and on-trend kitchen gadgets.  Full of aspiration yet desperation.

Simpson’s Laurence is sullen and sunken in Beverly’s loud, crushing shadow, stewing at his shallow wife’s dismissal of his tentative, self-improving interest in art.

New to your reviewer, wide-eyed Weerasinghe is outstanding as the effusive, chatterbox nurse Angela, talking ever looser as the gin kicks in, then dancing as out of time as a stopped clock.

Paul Hawkyard’s taciturn Tony on the turn

Hawkyard, meanwhile, maximises minimum words as the humourless Tony, whose imposing demeanour goes from monosyllabic indifference to not-funny wound-up menace to sudden snapping point.

Mellor’s Sue is Leigh’s quiet voice of excruciating middle-class discomfort, stuck in the middle yet desperate to be elsewhere, having to put up with Beverly’s insensitive inquisition about her marriage breakdown and Angela’s well-meant over-fussing.

Very 1977 and yet full of English characteristics that have not changed, and probably never will, Leigh’s writing is as sharp as a punk safety pin, his contempt unconfined for values so anathema to him, his humour merciless and deeply wounding.

Romer squeezes Leigh’s sour lemon to the max, knowing just how far to go for the juiciest bitter comedy when Beverly keeps going too far. One hell of a party, one hell of a play, one hell of a knockout production.