Catherine Bennett resumes the weekly look at the performing arts world, with the sad end of Jerusalem, the luck of a cabbie, and French revolt. Do you hear the people sing?
Adam Alcock reviews Nigel Kennedy playing Vivaldi's Four Seasons and his own Four Elements at York Opera House.
Catherine Bennett highlights the trends in the performing arts world today.
Jonathan Cridford reviews 'Ghosts', one of the Freshers' plays for this year.
Seeing Rocky Horror offers you quite the spectacle – in more ways than one. Since a group of us from York Theatre-Goers went to see it, we all dressed the part (corsets, suspenders, stockings – you get the idea). We even got dissaproving glances from little old ladies at York train station. But we didn’t expect to be upstaged by people 30 to 40 years our senior.
I don’t think I quite realised how many generations the Rocky Horror cult following spans. Certainly, the foyer of the Palace Theatre in Manchester proved to be one of the best spots for people watching I’d ever been in. Middle-aged men were decked out in full drag; groups of mums were wandering around in bras and knickers; tattooed men in their 20s walked around wearing only underwear and a vest. The best part of it all? There was no judgement. It felt totally normal. In fact, I’ll go one step above that – it felt liberating. Everyone got to put themselves out there, just for a night, without any pressure of having to ‘fit in’ either.
That mood was felt even more greatly once the show started. Not many musicals encourage – or even permit – heckling from the audience, but Rocky Horror thrives on it. Every time a key character appeared on stage for the first time, there were loud whoops, cheers and wolf-whistles. At every provocative scene (and there were plenty) the audience couldn’t get enough. It was almost as if that theatre existed in its own bubble of sexual freedom where anything goes, and building that trust requires as much from the audience as it does from the cast, who weren’t ever afraid to let loose with each other completely, with fantastic vocal skills along the way.
The narrator Dave Spikey (apparently he’s famous) could have ruined the mood of 50s America and Transylvania-esque castle with his heavy Mancunian accent, but instead he consistently interacted with the audience, putting on a mini stand-up routine filled with up-to-date jokes for each section of his. I may not have understood all his jokes, but the predominantly older audience were certainly thrilled.
Rocky Horror proved to be a great night out, and this production may even have converted me a little to the cult following. I would certainly go again – and bearing in mind this particular touring production is around for the next few months, you never know! Maybe you’ll be seeing me in fishnets, corsets and back-combed hair sooner than you think...
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