Theatre Club plan to see Move over, Mrs Markham.


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Encouraged by a positive reaction from a number of you, I have today ordered 16 tickets for ‘Move over, Mrs Markham’ at the Mill at Sonning for the evening of Wednesday 30 May.   I had to pay a non-returnable deposit, so please do rush to get your tickets, at the Group price of £49.50 each. This, you will recollect, includes a buffet meal with coffee, half a programme (one between two), and seats for the show in an amphitheatre.  I’ve booked seats near the back, on the level of the restaurant, for those who don’t like descending steps with no rails. The show is being directed by its co-author, Ray Cooney, and is billed as “hilarious” and “a wonderful farce”.

It is obviously pretty popular, because we couldn’t get seats in a block, even towards the end of its run.

When you pay, please say also whether you wouldn’t mind driving to Sonning.

Malcolm   850705

The Play went Wrong for the Theatre Club


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The latest visit for the Theatre Club was to see The Play that Goes Wrong at Oxford Playhouse on 23rd January 2018.

The mayhem started even before the play itself; the theatre displayed a sign for the wrong play, a frantic cast member trawled the auditorium for a missing dog and an audience member was prevailed upon to help fix the collapsing scenery in a taste of what was to come. The scene was further set by an introduction from the play’s ‘Director’, who described a previous history of theatrical catastrophes. When the play did get going, it quickly became evident that the title is a gross understatement. The plot is ridiculous, the cast are shambolic and miscast over-actors and the set has a malevolent life of its own. Every single thing that could go wrong goes wrong.

The performances were extravagantly awful, but they were supposed to be. The cast played their parts with a bemused but energetic determination to finish the performance, regardless of what was happening around them. The gags were fired out in such a scattergun manner that it was impossible to not find something in there to appeal to every sense of humour. There is comedy in every minute, if not second, of the play, some of it traditional physical farce and some of it in more subtle actions and wordplay. One scene was played with the lines in the wrong order; one scene trapped the actors in an increasingly manic loop of repeated lines; props got mixed up and cast members substituted for each other and bits of furniture. The script is crammed with gag after gag after gag; it is literally achingly funny.

The star of the night, however, was the set. It started out being held together with duct tape and ended up literally in pieces. The action in the second half of the play was almost entirely directed by its gradual disintegration. It was absolutely ingenious, and a delight to watch, as the cast attempted to continue with the play despite the mortal peril posed by collapsing pieces of set.

‘The Play that Goes Wrong’ makes for an incredibly enjoyable evening; brilliant writing, award-winning set design and laugh-out-loud comedy. I’d see it again in a heartbeat… and a hard hat.

Jane

War Horse comes to Oxford


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Following 8 record breaking years in London’s West End the National Theatre acclaimed play War Horse came on tour to the New Theatre Oxford and on the 13th December, ten members of the Upton Theatre Group had the opportunity to enjoy this fabulous production.

The Theatre production is based on Michael Morpurgo’s Novel about the friendship between a Devon Farm Boy Albert and a young horse called Joey. At the outbreak of WW1 Albert’s father sells Joey to the Cavalry and the horse is shipped to France. Joey is caught up in all the horrors of the War, eventually serving on both sides of enemy lines. Albert cannot forget Joey and although underage enlists in the British Army in an effort to find his beloved horse and bring him home.

At the heart of this production are astonishing life-sized horses by South Africa’s remarkable Handspring Puppet Company. The puppetry is so mesmerising that you forget while watching that you are not looking at real horses.

War Horse was an unforgettable theatrical event and for me ranks as probably the very best theatre production I have seen for the extraordinary production, special effects, casting and ingenuity in bringing the story to the stage.

Feedback from other members of the Upton Theatre Group suggests I was not alone in feeling enraptured by the whole experience that tugged at heartstrings and laid bare the best and worst of humanity. If you haven’t seen it and can get tickets do go ………you really will not be disappointed!

Lesley Shaw

Great Expectations for the Theatre Group


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“Great Expectations”

Blewbury Garden Theatre, 18-22 July, 2017

The Blewbury Players have performed over forty years of productions at Orchard Dene and their latest production, “Great Expectations”, was recently enjoyed by the group. Not only were we treated to Malcolm Wright’s accomplished portrayal of Pumblechook but we were also able to pay a silent tribute to Irene Timblick, a theatre club enthusiast who would surely have revelled in Dickens’s novel being brought to life in the charming open air theatre.

We were lucky; we had picked a dry evening but, goodness me, it was cold. While the audience huddled in rugs, there was plenty of action on stage to keep us locked into the story of lost hopes and broken hearts. Experienced actors played alongside novices of all ages, supported by the dedicated crew and all passionate about delivering community theatre.

Many readers will know the story well but for me, Miss Havisham’s bitterness was in stark contrast to Pip’s never-ending charitable nature and I found her death in the fire, a sad ending to an even sadder life. The dark and gloomy mood of the tale was lightened by Dickens himself being brought forward like a chorus figure, using his wit and impish genius, to envelop us. The cold evening needed a warm and happy ending and we got one, with Pip and Estella planning their future together. Luckily for me, my lift home had a car with heated seats – perfect!

 

Rosemary de Wilde

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time


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The Theatre Group visited the New Theatre at Oxford on 23rd May to see ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time’ writen by Simon Stephens, based on the book by Mark Haddon.

The outing coincided with my Australian friend Libby coming to stay with us and luckily Malcolm found another ticket so that she could join us all. We had read the book but couldn’t remember the details of the story – no matter, we knew it would be an experience we could share together. The theatre was packed on a Tuesday night with young and young-at-heart people and there was a buzz of anticipation about what would unfold on stage where the silhouette of a dog lay dead, speared by a garden fork with a figure crouched over it.

There was no warning! Suddenly, flashing bright lights and loud noises screamed from all directions and you could understand why someone might cover their ears and shout “Stop!” There was no going back, we had entered that frightening world, albeit for an evening, to share Christopher Boone’s (Sam Newton) experience of solving who had killed his neighbour’s dog Wellington.

Christopher, fifteen years old, has an extraordinary brain – exceptional at maths while ill-equipped to interpret everyday life. He has never ventured alone beyond the end of his road, he detests being touched and he distrusts strangers. When he falls under the suspicion of killing Mrs Shears’ dog, it takes him on a journey that upturns his world. He has what he likes to describe as “behavioural difficulties” and yet with his brilliant mathematical brain and logical processes, he never gives up his quest.

Despite the pleas from his father to mind his own business, Christopher discovers truths about his parents as his investigation progresses, causing distress for the whole family. Since he finds the irregularities and peculiarities of the English language confusing, the audience is constantly reminded of the fragility of communication in everyday situations. The metaphors of speech are strikingly obvious when Christopher is told to “Look at me when I am speaking to you” but then chided when he looks away after a second or two “You didn’t tell me how long to look at you for” he cries. The audience laughs but surely what some must be thinking is how often they have misinterpreted what others are saying or doing. It was funny, it was sad, it was fascinating, the audience was captivated.

I was captivated by Sam Newton’s portrayal of Christopher. For this brilliant young graduate, it was a debut major role and I wondered at the intricacies of the physical theatre that we were experiencing. How on earth does someone walk on walls supported only by another’s arms or lay cradled as if asleep, balanced on his hip with a small box as his bed? The supporting cast were outstanding and the stage and lighting were amazing. The grid like set reflected Christopher’s logical brain processes with sparks of light whizzing around to represent the impulses in his brain. When Christopher jumps down on the London underground tracks to retrieve his pet rat, the suspense created by loud beat music and steam like lighting of the approaching train, meant out hearts were in our mouths until he was hauled clear. Be careful with that metaphor ….

This play is an eye opener, and we emerged with that feeling of having experienced something very special. We talked about it all the way home and Libby and I added to the 40 years of memories we already treasure as friends.

Rosemary de Wilde

Improbable Fiction for The Theatre Group


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“Improbable Fiction” by Alan Ayckbourn at The Mill at Sonning, 23 March 2017

A sociable and good-humoured twenty-two of us, a majority from Upton, but augmented by family and friends from elsewhere, sat down for an excellent meal in the picturesque restaurant at the still-functioning mill. We then proceeded to the spectacular amphitheatre – with easy acoustics and perfect sight-lines – to enjoy the expected professional performance of what had been billed as a hilarious comedy.

By the interval, I felt I had been misinformed. We had watched a mildly amusing meeting of a creative writers’ circle, with some nicely delineated characters who evinced plenty of mutual likes and dislikes and a good deal of back history. Clem’s barely intelligible Sci-Fi story, complete with the malapropisms which infuriated the ill-tempered Brevis, a retired teacher, was well delivered and the encouraging chairmanship of Arnold endorsed the sympathy one might have felt for the two budding authors, Jess and Grace, who hadn’t yet managed to write anything. But …. It wasn’t Ayckbourn at his funniest, and we were left bewildered by a blackout and a glimpse of people in Victorian costumes, one wielding a knife and screaming to end the first act.

All became clear. The stories envisaged by would-be authors were played out around a bemused Arthur, striving to maintain some sanity and reality in a whirl of activity. In close succession, he was invaded by Jess’s Victorian melodrama, Clem’s alien-hunting American investigators (complete with malapropisms) and Vivvi’s poetry-quoting detective solving a mysterious death in the upstairs bedroom. This entailed an amazing number of costume-changes, usually heralded by another blackout – and the subtle switching of the telephone to indicate period. All actors except Arthur were given opportunities to show their versatility, and they revelled in it. The scenes became zanier and zanier – though there was a semblance of plot development in each story – and at last we were watching hilarious farce, well executed. Ayckbourn’s invention and tidy plotting even included Brevis’s half-finished song of the first act being used for a decidedly Shakespearean bergomask to round it off, waving alien detectors which doubled as buttercups and an alien pod which doubled as a walnut boat for the goblin of Grace’s children’s story. In the end, it was what we had been promised.

Malcolm Wright

Sand in the Sandwiches Review


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Sand in the Sandwiches at Oxford Playhouse on Wednesday 26th October,
2016
The Upton Theatre Group spent a delightful evening watching Double BAFTA
winner Edward Fox starring in this one-man performance, bringing John
Betjeman’s poetry and his vivacious personality to life. What a tour de
force, all those words, and Edward Fox brought it to life with all the charm
and presence you would expect from such an actor.
Betjeman is one of the nation’s favourite poets. Sand in the Sandwiches
celebrated a man famous not only for light verse and laughter, but for his
passions, his sense of purpose and his unforgettable poetry. The Arrest of
Oscar Wilde at the Cadogan Hotel and Trebetherick were two of the fabulous
poems included in the performance.
Through his boyhood, adolescence and on to life as Britain’s Poet Laureate,
the performance embraced Betjeman’s delight for nostalgia and delicious
irreverence. The evening gave us a hugely entertaining insight into the world
of this much-loved poet. There were moments of laughter, naughtiness and
also great poignancy as his relationship with his father was explored. We
looked at his love affair with Elizabeth Cavendish, despite his marriage to
Penelope, and his amazingly positive view of his Parkinson’s and his uplifting
view looking towards the end of his life.
It was also an interesting ‘spotlight’ on how society and attitudes have
changed which gave rise to some interesting discussion on our journey home.
There was, I feel, an issue with the sound in the first act. I heard others
discussing this at the interval; however, it seemed better in the second act.
Had I grown used to it, or had they fixed it at the sound desk? Who knows!
On a slightly different level, the refurbishment of the theatre is wonderful,
finished I believe in August, more space, luscious colours, fabulous!
It was a wonderfully entertaining evening and had me digging out my John
Betjeman Collected Poems book as soon as I got home.
Sarah Carter

Theatre Group visit Watermill to see Untold Stories


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Upton Theatre Group visit to the Watermill Theatre to see Untold Stories

Hymn and Cocktail Sticks, by Alan Bennet

On Tuesday 7th June, 14 of us had a very enjoyable visit to the Watermill Theatre, 12 having the pre theatre buffet meal. The weather was warm & dry as we arrived so it was pleasant to wander down to the stream to see the sculptures and watch the antics of the ducks. During the interval it poured with rain so some of us got a little wet!

Untold Stories is a double bill of memoirs based on his 2005 collection of diaries, recollections and essays.  In Hymn, a play set to live music by George Fenton, Bennett, played with thoughtfulness by Roger Ringrose, recalls the hymns and music that underscored his childhood.  It was a reflection on the gentle way things were then and a childhood and youth long past.

A live string quartet played while Bennett remembered his disappointment at his failure to play the violin despite his father’s mastery of the instrument, with no encouragement from his own father. Bennett’s passion for music was activated by his weekly trips to Leeds Town Hall to see the Yorkshire Symphony Orchestra, launched in 1947.  A customer of his father’s butcher shop , the Entertainment Officer of Leeds City council, would pass on a couple of complimentary tickets to the Saturday night concerts. His father would accompany music played on the radio with his violin.  As a member of the church congregation Alan felt that he belonged to a group, whereas he usually felt an outsider, looking in on other people’s lives, not really sharing.

Glimpses of his early life with Mam and Dad are shared in Cocktail Sticks, as Bennett in dialogue with his fictionalised versions of Mam and Dad bemoaned the lack of a “proper childhood “ with the right kind of trauma to equip him as a writer. “Well we took you to Morecambe”, replied Mam. Lucy Tregear was brilliant and sympathetic as Mam, depicting both the eager excitement at the anticipation of living the style and social fashion shown in her womens magazines and the doubt and confusion caused by her son’s lack of warmth and appreciation of her efforts to please him. Dad too (Richard Gibson) retreated into shyness when he realised that his best just wasn’t good enough for his clever son. Bennett looked back, after their death,  with love and affection but pain too at the little everyday things that his parents had given him, including source material for this funny and witty play.

 

Joan Durbin.

Cricket on the Hearth


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Here’s a riddle – how long does it take for a one-off to become a tradition?   I don’t know the answer, but I’m rather hoping that because we have now twice had a dramatic reading of a Christmas story we are near to establishing it as an annual event.

Four years ago, I was sitting in St Michael’s Church in Blewbury enjoying a spirited reading of “The Wind in the Willows”, when it occurred to me that Upton had the talent to do something similar. In the past we had intermittent entertainments on a theme, a selection of readings and often music brilliantly devised by Peter Gardiner, and of course made all the better by home-produced food,   In the mists of antiquity we had even had a revue or two, and even a selection of one-act plays.   But the time and energy required to repeat such occasions seem no longer to be available; surely reading a story to a sympathetic audience was worth a try.

The first choice was obvious – an abridged adaptation of “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens, to be produced around the pantomime season.   Despite the willingness and energy of the Burrows, we failed to produce even a cast in the first year, and abandoned it. In 2014, it happened, and although we knew we were under-rehearsed, and although it exhausted Hatty and Richard and their family, it was an undoubted success.   We were inundated by requests from at least two villagers for the date of the next performance.

I set about finding a suitable story. Thanks to the world wide web, I was able to research a huge number of possibilities.   I wanted to keep to the Christmas period still, so that limited the subject matter.   Many I rejected because they were patently religious, and I was looking for a broader base; some I abandoned because I didn’t think we had enough readers who could manage the accents; some I felt too serious, others not serious enough. Eventually, I returned to the collection of stories usually titled the “Christmas Books”. There I found “The Cricket on the Hearth”, apparently more popular than “A Christmas Carol” when it first appeared, and with all the sentiment and humour and suspense expected of Dickens.   It had been made into at least two films, but I did not trace a stage adaptation, so that I had to do myself.   The original was 80 pages long, and I abridged about 3 pages a night – do the division! But a script was produced, which, much more by luck than talent, could be read aIoud in about 90 minutes.

Casting and Rehearsals started in good time, but were plagued from the start. The only time all of the readers were present together was on the night of the performance! Three of the cast were on crutches on the night, one after an accident, one after an operation, one because she always is. Three original cast had to drop out through illness – one returned to take a smaller part. One role was eventually played by our third volunteer; another took over a part without ever being able to attend a rehearsal.

So it could have been chaos. And yet, thanks to the quality and talent and dedication of all involved, and thanks to an audience who willingly suspended disbelief and allowed themselves to be entertained, it worked.   We made over £200 for the Friends of St Mary’s, the readers delighted in performing, and everyone who spoke to me enthused over the whole project. Granted, those who didn’t like it probably kept quiet!

There are three more tales in the Dickens collection, and I’m reading at the moment a newly published book which the reviewer says is good for all children aged 9 to 90.   So perhaps we shall be back in 2016 – and will our story-telling then be one of Upton’s Christmas traditions?

Malcolm Wright

Ladykillers at The Watermill


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UPTON VILLAGE THEATRE GROUP

The Ladykillers

Watermill, Bagnor   Tuesday 27 October 2015

The production of “The Ladykillers” at the Watermill Theatre just outside Newbury was as enjoyable for the environment as the performance; the Watermill is a lovely 220-seat theatre and restaurant located in a disused corn mill dating back from the 1830s. The restaurant offers an excellent pre- or post-theatre hot and cold buffet; in the summer, dinner in the conservatory or outside on the lawn would be extremely agreeable. As it was, on the cold and drizzly Tuesday that the Upton Theatre Group visited, the Watermill Restaurant provided a warm and sociable environment for dinner.

The play was staged on a tiny, precariously sloping set which managed to ingeniously host an ailing parrot, four murders, two car chases, a string quintet and its audience, a rooftop chase and a railway line. The small stage area required almost balletic choreography as the cast dodged and ducked around each other, cramming themselves into tiny spaces and juggling an improbable amount of luggage. There were many elements of classic farce in the production blended with the character-based comedy.

The script, adapted by Graham Linehan from the original film screenplay by William Rose, was similar in style to Linehan’s most well-known work, Father Ted and The IT Crowd. The quirks and tics of the oddball villains were hilariously realised by the cast, particularly the winking, twitching Major (Dermot Canavan) and obsessively polishing Harry (Harry Katsari).  The moral of the original screenplay, that “in the worst of men, there is a little bit of good that can destroy them”, applied to all of the gang apart from the smooth, psychopathic ringleader Professor Marcus (played by the gangly and almost rubberised Paul Mundell) who was only undone by his choice of accomplices and scarves.

Having seen the 2004 Coen Brothers film which is quite good but is unfortunately rather less than the sum of its parts, I wasn’t expecting the manic, laugh-out-loud, sometimes breathtakingly ingenious production that was the Watermill Ladykillers.  Combined with the very enjoyable (albeit a little expensive) dinner, it was an excellent evening and I will be keeping an eager eye on the Watermill What’s On web page for future opportunities to repeat the experience.

Jane Pettman

2 November 2015