REVIEW: Brassed Off, Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, until August 31 ****

Barney Taylor’s Andy, front left, and Hannah Woodward’s Gloria lead the cheers in Brassed Off. Picture: Pamela Raith

YORK filmmaker Mark Herman’s 1996 colliery band drama Brassed Off was first turned into a stage play with music by Paul Allen at Sheffield Crucible in 1998.

Bridlington-born Herman and Alan Ayckbourn biographer and “failed trombonist” Allen were both in the audience for Tuesday’s Scarborough press night for Liz Stevenson’s co-production for Theatre by the Lake, Keswick, the Stepehen Joseph Theatre and the Bolton Octagon Theatre.

Like the Crucible, all three are theatres in the round, an intimate 360-degree seating configuration that engenders and enhances the intense sense of community that Herman and in turn Allen extol.

“Since the first performances in 1998 it has become more and more of a memory play,” writes Allen in his programme notes before adding: “It always was (the pits had nearly all closed or been scheduled for closure by then) but I don’t think I thought of it that way at the time.”

Stevenson’s 2024 production – 40 years after the cataclysmic Miners’ Strike and 30 after the 1994 setting of Herman’s film – is very much a memory play, still narrated by Phil’s son, Shane, but now the 38-year-old, enervated adult Shane (Andrew Turner), who goes on to play his idealistic eight-year-old self.

In trim white shirt and dark trousers, he matches the look of the Narrator in Willy Russell’s Blood Brothers, but whereas Russell’s character is all-knowing and menacing, Shane is wistful and still seeking answers: answers that tellingly are not forthcoming as hope withers on the vine.

Allen’s notes predict “no obvious collective future in the age of the internet”, but he does say ‘we are a community, in the theatre or the concert hall, just as a band or company of actors have that sense of community’. That sentiment is all the more pertinent in an age when the arts have been subject to funding cuts and a curriculum cull at schools at universities, just as the mining industry was crushed under the Tory boot in the 1980s and ’90s.

Director Stevenson was adamant Brassed Off in 2024 should not be a “nostalgia festival”, and it most definitely isn’t, even if brass band music always evokes the past, like the first whiff of Bisto. A memory play, yes, but one fuelled by bad memories, as much as by a beleaguered community pulling together, their northern humour and jesting, jousting banter defiant to the last in a play suffused with raw wounds, pathos and pride.

And the band played on: A rousing moment in miners’ lamps in Brassed Off. Picture: Pamela Raith

Simon Kenny’s set design could not be starker: a coal-black floor and a spoil heap on a curve, with a pile of coal at each end, to contrast with the canary-yellow crate seating, brought on and off stage by Stevenson’s cast, and the glint of the brass instruments.

The plot, should you need a refresher course, finds the mining community of Grimley, Yorkshire, fighting to keep the colliery open ten years after the Miners’ Strike. Widowed band leader Danny (Russell Richardson) is fighting too, both against ill health and to keep his dispirited band of brass-playing miners together, when his dream of qualifying for the national championships is countered by the spectre of a vote to decide the miners and the mine’s future.

We meet couples under stultifying pressure: Danny’s son, trombone player and hapless clown Phil (Joey Hickman) and wife Sandra (Daneka Etchells), struggling with debts and a new-born fourth child; veteran miners and band members Jim (Greg Patmore) and Harry (Matt Ian Kelly) and their exasperated wives Vera (Joanna Holden) and Rita (Maxine Finch).

Then comes the re-kindling of a school-day crush as Gloria (Hannah Woodward) returns to Grimley, to work on a research project and add her flugelhorn to the band, while stirring old feelings in local lothario Shane (Andrew Turner). A Montague-Capulet division plays out in their  latter-day Romeo & Juliet wooing, but with Yorkshire frankness.

To quote Allen again: “Sharing a room, however briefly, and sharing an emotional roller-coaster, we are something more than our individual selves for a few hours but also utterly ourselves. Which is rather glorious.”

How right he is, and that sense of community striving to survive beyond the dying of the mining age is all the stronger for the band playing on. Here that band combines five actor-musicians from the cast (Hickman, Patmore, Kelly, Taylor and Woodward) with a pool of community musicians (including Kate Lock, from York) that changes from show to show.

Matthew Malone’s arrangements are a joy, bringing cheers and tears alike. So do Stevenson’s cast, especially Richardson’s stoical Danny, Hickman’s desperate Phil, Etchells’ despairing Sandra and the sparky sparring of Taylor’s Andy and Woodward’s Gloria.

Brassed Off: still angry, still moving, still as resilient and resonant as ever. Top brass, top class, you might say, as the standing ovation testifies.

Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, Theatre by the Lake, Keswick, and Octagon Theatre, Bolton present Brassed Off, Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, until August 31, 7.30pm plus 1.30pm Thursday and 2.30pm Saturday matinees. Box office: 01723 370541 or sjt.uk.com.

Brassed Off resonates down the years in new revival of colliery band drama at SJT

A scene from Liz Stevenson’s production of Brassed Off. Picture: Pamela Raith

LIZ Stevenson’s new staging of Brassed Off marks the 40th anniversary of the Miners’ Strike and the 30th anniversary of the 1994 setting of York film-maker Mark Herman’s pit community drama.

Adapted for the stage by Paul Allen, the co-production by Theatre by the Lake, Keswick, the Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, and Octagon Theatre, Bolton, has moved from Keswick to Scarborough, where the cast of ten, including several actor-musicians, will perform Herman’s story of northern grit, heart and defiant humour from tonight until August 31.

Ten years after the Miners’ Strike, the mining community of Grimley, Yorkshire, is fighting to keep the colliery open. Meanwhile, revered band leader Danny is battling to keep his dispirited band of brass-playing miners together, fuelled by the dream of qualifying for the national championships at London’s Royal Albert Hall. Loyalty is tested, pressure mounts and the community begins to break apart, but can the band find a way to play on? 

“It’s a timely moment to present this iconic play, 40 years after the 1984 Miners’ Strike,” says Liz, Theatre by the Lake’s artistic director. “Our production looks back on the battles of this close-knit mining community, asking: what has changed? And what does this play mean to us today? We’ve assembled an incredible team to deliver a moving theatrical experience that celebrates the resilience of communities and the transformative power of music.” 

Liz’s vision for the production started with the question: How do you see the play from a 2024 perspective?  “It occurred to me that in our audience, there will be people who lived through the Miners’ Strike, worked down the pit,  and are still affected by it. Others will have had little experience of it and won’t have been affected.

“There’ll be some who know and love Mark’s film; others who won’t have seen it. So, what’s your starting point? In our production, we’ve imagined how young narrator Shane, the eight-year-old son of Phil and Sandra in the film, would be 38 now, not dissimilar to my age.

“So we’re now treating it like a memory play, where he re-lives his memories of his childhood, his father and his grandfather [band leader Danny], seeing them through adult eyes and reflecting on how the events of 1984/1994  made him the man he is today.

“Obviously lots of things have changed – though some haven’t – so it feels like a period piece, but for others it still feels like recent history, and some of our cast have grown up playing in brass bands.”

Brassed Off resonates as much as ever in 2024, when “deindustrialisation, inequality and poverty is still felt today in former mining towns and across different communities around the world”, says Liz.

“What there’s no denying in this country is that we still have a great deal of poverty, like the characters in this play. There’s a scene where Phil tries to take his life, and  it was an important decision how we would handle that scene: what led him to that point, as we see him become more and more desperate. Lots of people will be able to relate to that – it’s probably the most relatable thing in the play.”

Crucial too is Danny’s climactic speech at the Royal Albert Hall, the one where, in the moment of winning the national championships, he says: “I thought that music mattered, but does it bol****s, not compared with how people matter”. “We didn’t want to make it a nostalgia festival. We wanted to lift it out of that, stripping it back, simplifying the design too,” says Liz.

“There’s something important to be said, locally, nationally and internationally, about the significance of community and how we have to look after each other, how people matter more than money.

“This play shows how vital community is, and this production manifests that by having not only a cast of ten but also a community cast with three teams of two children and members of the local community playing in the band at each show.  That brings a community spirit to the performances – which is such a joy.”

That sense of community is enhanced by the theatre-in-the-round configuration of all three theatres. “It’s an inclusive, intimate setting, with audiences on all sides and everyone close to the action, but it’s a challenge too as the Scarborough stage is small but we have to have 19 bodies on stage at one point! You’re thinking, ‘how do we do this, with all the music, in that space, with lots of episodic scenes that flow into each other’?” says Liz.

“It needs to be fluent and dynamic, and especially as a memory play where one moment triggers the next. Something special happens when the band plays for the first time on stage: that feeling of everyone playing together in a collective endeavour. You see the importance of collaborating in the play, but when they perform the music, it takes it to another level.”

Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, Theatre by the Lake, Keswick, and Octagon Theatre, Bolton present Brassed Off, Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, tonight to August 31. Box office: 01723 370541 or sjt.uk.com.

REVIEW: Northanger Abbey, Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, till April 13 **

Rebecca Banatvala’s Cath, back, AK Golding’s Iz and Sam Newton’s Hen in Northnager Abbey

THE journey from page to stage is familiar, well trodden, but still unpredictable for classic novels. Sometimes it works, sometimes it tries too hard, when a book remains better read than said.

This co-production by the SJT, Scarborough, Orange Tree Theatre, Richmond, Octagon Theatre, Bolton, and Theatre by the Lake, Keswick, is one such occasion.

We have seen many adaptations in this manner: a small, busy-as-Heathrow cast working with more imagination than props in Hannah Sibai’s design, breaking down theatre’s fourth wall from the start,  speeding between roles and  differing theatre styles, but here falling short of the best work of Tilted Wig, Wise Children and Nick Lane’s adaptations.

Writer Zoe Cooper defines Jane Austen’s coming-of-age satire of Gothic novels as “a book about invention that revels in layers of fictionality, of imagination”, one that she first read at 19, roughly the same age as lead character Catherine Morland when she leaves behind her claustrophobic northern family to join the smart set in Bath.

In her programme note, Cooper recalls how she felt out of place, awkward and grubby in her posh university town. Austen’s Catherine Morland (Rebecca Banatvala’s Cath) is a bookworm who feels that same discomfort and disconnection after being drawn to Bath by books and dreams.

Cooper and Banatvala express Cath’s tendency to over-excitement and bad behaviour, ending up in difficult situations that she navigates by warping reality with fiction amid the balls and parties.

Cooper draws on another recollection of her English Literature studies, how her tutorials were “generally male, very white, and very heterosexual”. Her reading of Northanger Abbey was rather different: she liked the book because “it felt a little bit naughty” in the friendship of Catherine and society sophisticate Isabella.

That plays out passionately in this account, where the loving bond between impressionable Cath and worldly Iz (AK Golding) runs deeper than Cath’s relationship with Hen (Sam Newton).

Tessa Walker’s production, however, needs to be more humorous, darker in its Gothic climax, but that requires sharper writing by Cooper. The performances have to swim against the tide, too much work to do.

Matt Haskins’ lighting is a delight, but that should never be the stand-out feature. An Audience with Lucy Worsley on Jane Austen, with “new research and insights into a passionate woman who fought for her freedom”, at York Barbican on October 14 will be more enlightening.

Box office: 01723 370541 or sjt.uk.com.

Review: Home, I’m Darling, Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough, until August 14

Sandy Foster’s Judy and Tom Kanji’s Johnny in Home, I’m Darling at the Stephen Joseph Theatre, Scarborough

HOME, I’m Darling is back at work after taking leave from the SJT stage for an extended Covid-enforced hiatus.

A positive test among the company de-railed Liz Stevenson’s production from July 19 to July 27, then a second one until August 2, but as if with foresight, thankfully Laura Wade’s play had been booked in for a long run from July 9 to August 14.

This still leaves plenty of time to see the SJT’s co-production with Theatre by the Lake, Keswick and Octagon Theatre, Bolton.

Already this summer the SJT has played host to a play with past and present interwoven into one story: Alan Ayckbourn’s The Girl Next Door, where 1942 wartime rubs up against 2020 Covid times, a gap of 78 years yet only a garden hedge.

In Laura Wade’s 2018 comedy, the setting is now, but “perfect couple” Judy (Sandy Foster) and Johnny (Tom Kanji) embrace 1950s’ family values, from their clothes to their décor, their meals to their bedroom bliss.

It is like flicking through an old catalogue, all glossy and surely too, too perfect, behind the beautifully stylised playing of Foster and Kanji. 21st century reality is knocking ever louder on the door: Judy had been made redundant from her job in finance at 38, choosing to be the out-of-Stepford wife, cleaning, baking, making lemon curd, but this puts extra pressure on Johnny to gain a promotion and to meet the mortgage.

Twisting time is here: Susan Twist in rehearsal for her role as Sylvia in Home, I’m Darling

What’s more, withdrawing from the outside world leaves Judy as the bird in the gilded cage, controlling but losing control, switched off from the news, paddling against the tide with her impressionable friend Fran (Vicky Binns), vulnerable to being duped by the predatory Marcus (Sam Jenkins-Shaw).

Billed as a comedy, the tone turns from frothy farce to being ever darker, pricklier too, the stylish surface scratched away by the grit, the reality check coming in the form of a devastating lecture from Judy’s mother, Susan Twist’s Sylvia, whose Twist of the knife elicits provokes a spontaneous burst of applause from the entire audience.

Parallels have been drawn with Ayckbourn’s bleaker comedies, high praise indeed, and Stevenson’s direction elicits superb performances from her cast, who remain believable, for all the heightened playing of the early scenes, as the tension rises.

This production is all the more timely, when people have been asked to stay at home in Covid lockdown, and amid rising job losses for women, but Wade’s themes of feminism and gender roles pre-date the pandemic, as she bursts the bubble of outward contentment with an Ibsen scalpel.

By the end, Fifties’ nostalgia has had its day, but Wade’s couple have a future, Home, I’m Darling duly living up to Stevenson’s promise that it will “send people out on a high, and that’s something we all need at the moment after what we’ve been through”.

It is all the better for being staged in The Round, where Helen Coyston’s Fifties’ retro set looks so at home yet simultaneously awkward. Just as it should.

Box office: 01723 370541 or at sjt.uk.com

Nostalgia ain’t what it used to be in Laura Wade’s comedy of domestic blister, Home I’m Darling, at Stephen Joseph Theatre

When domestic bliss turns to domestic blister: Sandy Foster as Judy and Tom Kanji as Johnny in Laura Wade’s comedy Home. I’m Darling. Rehearsal picture: Ellie Kurttz

SWEET peas in the garden; homemade lemon curd in the kitchen; marital bliss in the bedroom; Judy and Johnny seem to be the perfect couple. Sickeningly happy, in fact.

Yet is their marriage everything it seems? Are there cracks in their happiness? What happens when the 1950s’ family values they love so much hit the buffer in the 21st century, as the couple discover that nostalgia ain’t what it used to be?

So runs the bumpy course of Laura Wade’s comedy, Home, I’m Darling, premiered in 2018 by Theatr Clwyd and the National Theatre and now revived in a co-production between Scarborough’s Stephen Joseph Theatre, the Octagon Theatre, Bolton, and Theatre by the Lake, in Keswick, with a cast of Sandy Foster, Tom Kanji, Vicky Binns, Sam Jenkins-Shaw, Sophie Mercell and Susan Twist.

The director is Liz Stevenson, Theatre by the Lake’s artistic director, best remembered in York for her beautiful 2018 touring production of The Secret Garden at the Theatre Royal.

“Home, I’m Darling is the perfect way to welcome back audiences to live theatre again,” she says. “Sharp, funny and incredibly timely, it’s one of those plays that will have everyone chuckling, discussing and debating long into the evening. I can’t wait to bring this brilliant play to life in-the-round with this incredible creative team and with three fantastic northern theatres.”

Director Liz Stevenson in rehearsals for Home, I’m Darling. Picture: Ellie Kurttz

Home, I’m Darling has taken longer than first planned by Liz to find a northern home (or three!). “I’d heard so much about the first production, read the script and thought it would be a really interesting play for Theatre by the Lake, but then the pandemic happened and stopped everything,” she recalls.

“There’d been no firm plans; I just thought, ‘one day I bet this play will sit really well on the Keswick stage’. But when Theatre by the Lake, the Octagon and the SJT started talking about play titles for a partnership, this play came up.

“Then we started an online play-reading club with a group of about 40 people of all ages, and this was one of the plays we discussed, and it just confirmed it would go down really well if we ever did it.”

Roll on to summer 2021, and here comes Liz’s production. “It’s very funny, very entertaining, and because it’s in this 1950s-style household, there’s lots of fun and colour to it, but because the play is set now, there are lots of relatable, modern-day issues: feminism, gender roles…” she says.

… “We spoke to Laura [Wade] during rehearsals about people thinking about spending more time at home when losing their jobs, and then of course that’s what happened with the Covid lockdowns.

“Shutting herself in a world that she’s kept so small”: Sandy Foster’s Judy in Home, I’m Darling. Picture: Ellie Kurttz

“People have had to spend time at home, where we’re all expected to have a family, hobbies, a clean home and a talent for baking. Pre-Covid, in this play, here we have someone who wants that life, who wants to be the contented housewife and wants to see people’s reaction to that.”

Perfect timing for her production, then. “It’s a play that will send people out on a high, and that’s something we all need at the moment after what we’ve been through,” says Liz.

Without giving too much away, Liz, what’s the plot? “Judy is 38, she’s been made redundant, and she’s thinking, ‘Do you know what, I’m not going to get another job, working in finance, working very long days, working at weekends’,” she outlines.

“Now she’s becoming an expert baker, an expert cleaner, and it looks like everything is perfect, but then cracks appear and over a fortnight you see things fall apart, as they think, ‘Do we want to spend our lives like this?’.

“She has a home that’s beautiful, where she has control, looking after that home and husband Johnny, but when you push that, it becomes unhealthy as friends start poking holes into this ‘perfect’ bubble, where she has shut herself in a world that she’s kept so small.

“That’s the realisation that Judy has by the end of the play, where she says, ‘I think I’m scared that I’m going to struggle to catch up with the world’. It’s about balance in your life and Judy doesn’t have that balance; she’s gone from one extreme to the other.”

Sam Jenkins-Shaw and Vicky Binns in rehearsal for Home, I’m Darling

“But what’s brilliant about Laura’s writing is that she’s not being heavy-handed; she’s putting questions out there, rather than coming up with answers, and those questions have become even more relevant with people working from home.”

Home, I’m Darling is a comedy with darkness at its edges. “A few people at the play-reading club who read it likened it to an Ayckbourn play, where it’s very funny, but there’s a lot of tension,” says Liz.

“The whole play is set in one space with the actors doing their brilliant thing as the characters’ behaviour affects each other and you see the tension rise within that concentrated setting.

“This production is the first time this play has been staged in the Round, so whereas previously the stage was like a doll’s house with the roof taken off, the benefit of the Round is you are so close to the actors, you will spot every pulling of a raised eyebrow.”

Like so many who work in theatre, Liz has experienced an unparalleled past 15 months. “It’s been really tough for us at Theatre by the Lake; we closed in March last year and we’re still closed, though we have lots of activity in the community and we’re doing a festival with English Touring Theatre at Crow Park [Keswick] in August,” she says.

“But when we do Home, I’m Darling from October 6 to 30, it will be my first show IN the theatre two years after my appointment as artistic director, though we have been rehearsing it inside the building, which has been lovely, and we can’t wait to see a show being put on here again.”

“Darlings, we’re home,” she can finally say at that point.

Home, I’m Darling, Stephen Joseph Theatre Scarborough, tonight until August 14. Box office: sjt.uk.com

A Twist at the end: Susan Twist in a scene in rehearsal from Home, I’m Darling. Picture: Ellie Kurttz