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Whenever (by Alfred Hickling)
"To flip back and forth between the years 1886 to 7075 you need either a
time-machine or Alan Ayckbourn's dramatic instinct. This wonderful
chronological caper has both.
Ayckbourn seems to have been toying with theatrical time since theatrical
time began, of course: plays such as Time of My Life and
Communicating Doors treat the time-space continuum like a great, cosmic
snakes and ladders board devised for the author's own entertainment. As for
simultaneous occurrences in separate situations, Ayckbourn has been doing
those since The Norman Conquests, right up to the recent House and
Garden.
A fully-fledged Ayckbournian time-machine musical is something to savour,
then - but as with many of his most imaginatively freewheeling ideas, it's
far too clever to be wasted on grownups.
Whenever is Ayckbourn's first co-written collaboration with composer
Denis King (whose name you may not recognise but whose Novello Award-winning
theme for the television series Black Beauty you could well).
Ayckbourn has always enjoyed shuffling his theatrical cards, but this one
truly defies categorisation. It's something of a
historical-futuristic-farcical grown-up romantic musical adventure for
children, and even that sells it a bit short. Above all it is an effortless
demonstration that theatre can take you anywhere, particularly in the
presence of children, who have far fewer inhibitions about where they might
be going.
Whenever trades in the kind of complexity that will have the Harry
Potter generation sagely explaining the significance of it all to their
parents and teachers on the way out of the theatre. Yet for all this it
still retains the clarity of a fairy tale: Good Uncle Martin has invented a
time-machine and Wicked Uncle Lucas wants to get his hands on it, so
nine-year-old Emily - winningly portrayed by Alison Pargeter - must journey
to the end of time to ensure that evil does not prevail.
She picks up three travelling companions from various eras along the way: a
chipper cockney, a sensitive android and a friendly Yeti, who unobtrusively
assume the roles of Emily's own Scarecrow, Tin-Man and Cowardly Lion. The
whole ensemble is excellent, but perhaps Gavin Lee stands out as Oscar, the
ARP warden, because he contributes the splendid pearly-king choreography as
well.
There will be no finer family entertainment this Christmas - this could take
bookings up to the 71st century."
(The Guardian, (9 December 2000)
Whenever (by Dave Windass)
"The Stephen Joseph Theatre is once again home to a highly intelligent piece
of theatre for younger audiences. A musical penned by Alan Ayckbourn and
Denis King, this production combines time travel with comedy, an abundance
of visual stimulation and some good old-fashioned variety.
Emily (Alison Pargeter) is a nine-year-old orphan who escapes from her nasty
uncle Lucas (Richard Banham) by hopping into nice uncle Martin's (Stefan
Bednarczyk) time machine. The machine is a wonderful blend of Chitty Chitty
Bang Bang and dome-topped temple, courtesy of designer Roger Glossop, who
also makes spectacular use of traps.
Once on board, Emily is transported from 1886 to Blitzkrieg-era Britain,
then with ARP warden Oscar (the energetic Gavin Lee, who also choreographs)
in tow, into a war-ravaged future where human contact has been replaced by
impersonal computer communication. Emily and her travelling companions, now
including faulty android Z1991 (Giles Taylor) even find themselves at the
end of time, a
point at which humans have lost the ability to communicate intelligently.
The talented and extremely hard-working main cast of nine, which also
includes Sarah Redmond, Nigel Williams and the ever-so-evil Nicola Sloane
and Saskia Butler, play 27 parts between them. Their fine voices can be
heard in a mix of memorable numbers, the most endearing of which is a
Cockney sing-a-long toe-tapper that leads to an exhibition of the ancient art
of spoon playing.
No space in the round for the musical talents of MD Simon Cryer, Kay Bywater
and Jonathan Robinson, sadly tucked out of full view but not unnoticed.
In true HG Wells-style, Whenever is an implicit word of warning about a
future that could be just around the comer. As such it is a rather brilliant
Comic Potential for kids."
(The Stage, 14 December 2000)
Whenever (by Charles Hutchinson)
"As a child Alan Ayckbourn
was fascinated by science
fiction and The Wizard Of
Oz. He now brings the two
together in Whenever, his
new time-travelling family entertainment. Written with composer
Denis King and directed by
Ayckbourn himself, Whenever complements the
communication breakdown
theme of his adult work of
2000, Virtual Reality, and
also recalls such earlier plays as Communicating Doors and Comic Potential.
Ayckbourn transforms the Round stage into a time machine for a sci-fi
musical adventure set "here, there and everywhere in the time of then, now
and yet to come".
It opens in the dark Victoria Britain of 1886, as nine-year-old orphan Emily
Bonny (intrepid Alison Pargeter) runs for her life in the time machine of her
Uncle Martin (Stefan Bednarczyk). Poor Martin, an inventor in the spirit
of' Heath Robinson, has just been murdered by the vile Uncle Lucas (Richard Banham).
Plucky Emily; Ayckbourn's variation on Dorothy in The Wizard Of Oz,
undertakes a journey to the end of time on board her version of the Tardis.
An
eventful trip through time and space that alters her own future and that of
mankind at large.
En route, just like Dorothy, Emily acquires three cohorts. First, there is
her Scarecrow: Oscar (the outstanding Gavin Lee), a voting London ARP warden
as chipper as the Artful Dodger, in the Goodge Street tube station in the
midst or the Blitz in 1940: a setting that marks the first time Ayckbourn
has written about wartime.
Next, they are joined by the Tinman figure Ziggi, a
droid with a sense of humour in a post-apocalyptic, contaminated future
world where man has fought fellow man to virtual extinction, communication
is conducted solely through a computer keyboard, and robot droids are
"overjoyed to serve humanoids".
Lastly in the distant future of the 51st century, they meet Whenever's Cowardly Lion,
Hoombean (Nigel
William,). This timorous Yeti is in fact the last human being on Earth and
has lost the ability to communicate intelligently, a condition known
previously only to surly teenagers.
Star Wars, Dr Who and Roald Dahl come to mind as much The
Wizard Of Oz
in a morality play and cautionary tale that is bleak, pessimistic, yet
ultimately hopeful that man can learn form scientific folly. Farce and dark
drama, sci-fi thrills and Victorian fairy tale all merge in this very
grown-up play for children.
The constant shuffling of the school parties in the audience suggested this
far-reaching story was at times often demanding yet whenever they threaten to
switch off, the forward thrust and inventive imagination of the show
excites them anew.
A play with a future, then."
(Yorkshire Evening Press, 20 December 2000)
Time For A Fascinating Production
(by Mike Park)
"From the opening moments of Alan Ayckbourn's latest play, we're taken on an
emotional roller coaster ride by a master storyteller.
Nine-year-old Victorian orphan Emily, played convincingly by Alison Pargeter,
is hiding in fear from cruel cousin Clara.
Evil runs in the family, with Clara's father resorting to violence to gain
control of his nicer brother's latest invention, a time machine.
Emily takes refuge in the machine and is transported 50 years forwards,
where she not only encounters her older and even nastier relatives, but
finds herself under attack from German bombs.
Another time hop takes her into a future where the human race is in acute
danger. Can Emily (with a little help from some new friends) return and undo
all that has gone awry?
Answering that question makes for an exciting production, packed with humour
and brilliantly performed by a hardworking cast of nine who tackle 26 roles.
Roger Glossop's amazing set constantly surprises and delights, and there
are some fine new songs, with music by Denis King.
Although aimed primarily at children, Whenever is also heartily recommended
for adults who enjoy a fascinating tale impeccably told."
(Scarborough Evening News, 13 December 2000)
Emily's Travails Through Time (by Lynda
Murdin)
"Sir Alan Ayckbourn perhaps fears Santa won't be visiting him this year. So
the playwright and artistic director of the Stephen Joseph Theatre,
Scarborough, has stuffed his own sack full of the kind of treats and toys he
likes best - and called it Whenever.
Spilling out of his latest Christmas show come another lost and bewildered
female, games with quantum physics involving journeys through time,
trapdoors with hidden surprises, robots, movie references, talk amid a
futuristic bleakness about what makes people laugh and lots of his favourite
kinds of music.
Ayckbourn has aimed Whenever at all family members and I'm sure most
parents, grandparents and even great-grandparents will enjoy sharing his
gifts. And for the wrinklies the biggest of all presents is nothing more nor
less than wartime nostalgia.
Cor Blimey! Gordon Bennett! Doing the Lambeth Walk. Oi. The first landing
for our heroine, Emily, a Victorian girl who travels through time, is the
London Underground where Cockneys are sheltering during the Blitz. The war
must have been significant in 61-year-old Ayckbourn's own youth. But as we
are all Europeans now, is it really advisable to keep on being beastly to
the Germans by reinforcing their image among younger generations in an
entertainment, not a history lesson - as public enemy number one?
Be that as it may, before you can say Roll Out The Barrel, the Cockneys are
all dancing and of all the wonders in all the universe playing the spoons.
It's a right old knees-up. The cast of nine, accompanied live by three
musicians hidden in a box above, must have been practising day and night.
This is one of several numbers that sound very grown-up. And like several
others, some quite sophisticated, it's almost familiar - except that they
are newly composed pastiches of old tunes specially written by Denis King.
But I speed forward in time. The story opens in 1886 with Emily, a blonde
Alison-in-Wonderland figure, singing a poignant refrain relating how she is
hiding from her Cousin Clara. It soon becomes apparent that Emily (Alison
Pargeter) an adult cleverly capturing a youthful earnestness) is the victim
of bullying.
Her parents died in an accident and she then for a spell lived happily
enough in the family home with her Uncle Martin and their staff, including
the interestingly Jeeves-like butler (Nigel Williams). Then wicked Uncle
Lucas, his wife and Clara came to join them. They make Emily's life a
misery. By comparison, the orphaned lead in Annie, that popular musical
about another unfortunate child, would seem to be in clover.
Uncle Martin is an inventor of the absent-minded kind. Down in the basement,
he is working on his prototype Temporal Displacement Vehicle (Time Machine).
Emily, although intimidated by her relatives, manages to visit him. To cut a
somewhat long story short, she witnesses Uncle Martin (Stefan Bednarczyk)
being murdered by Uncle Lucas. Uncle Lucas (an effectively sinister Richard
Banham) then threatens her and she escapes in the Time Machine.
Misfortunes never come singly. In the London Underground, Emily is kidnapped
and driven off in a car. At this late point the young audience members at
the early performance I attended suddenly registered active interest. Forget
the Time Machine, which looks like a cross between the Tardis and an
onion-domed folly at Castle Howard. These children exclaimed at the car, a
stage kit vintage contraption which could well have been a left-over from
the Ayckbourn-Lloyd Webber musical, By Jeeves.
They then laughed at Oscar, a cheeky chappie Cockney ARP warden, when he
employed the simple mime technique of being frozen in fright after joining
Emily in the Time Machine. Gavin Lee, who both plays Oscar and choreographed
the show, certainly deserved this accolade. The type of gift one wouldn't
mind finding in one's own sack from Santa, Lee provides pleasing Christmas
illumination to a production which occasionally loses power.
Not in the Army because of his "funny feet", Oscar fears he's a coward like
the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz, with which the promised
parallels are so oblique, they fade into infinity.
It's actually quite a time in Emily's time journey - not until the end of
the first half, in fact - before Ayckbourn rolls out the robots or, as
they're called here, the droids and even later a hairy Yeti-like monster
which finally had the youngsters squealing.
The droids beep-beep-beep amusingly and mechanically intone a nice little
ditty -"Every droid is overjoyed to welcome you, dear humanoid". But they
all end up being about as jolly as leaders at the weekend's European Union
summit at Nice.
While defying gravity or whatever. Whenever, despite its happy
ending, seems to my mind a trifle heavy on gravitas. It doesn't lack
courage, nor a brain not even a heart. But after the early performance I
saw, it needed to search for something rather more indefinable: a sense of
joy."
(Yorkshire Post, 13 December 2000) |
