New Adventures’ repertoire of game-changing ballets is something to envy and behold. Matthew Bourne’s work is bold, brave and sometimes uncompromising. From his ye olde sweet shop take of his Nutcracker, the ground-breaking all-male Swan Lake, a dark and dystopian Romeo & Juliet, through to the marvellous masterpieces such as The Car Man and Highland Fling. He barely puts a foot wrong.
As for Edward Scissorhands, this one still has the power and majesty to enchant audiences. His biggest hits have been based on texts which are familiar to audiences, and like theatre director of the moment – Evita’s Jamie Lloyd, he remixes texts that we think we know really well.
Matthew Bourne’s the Midnight Bell at LOWRY
It means that the basic elements of most of the stories are within the audience’s psyche as soon as they sit down. And something old is mixed like a cocktail and leaves the audience feeling shaken and stirred.
Play Without Words takes characters from different British films, such as The Servant and Look Back in Anger and melds them together, and it works wonderfully well.
Here, Bourne takes the work of Patrick Hamilton, a writer known for Rope and Gaslight and attempts to present a series of tales, which manifest themselves through the familiar sound of last orders – the Midnight Bell of the title.
This is the quintessential British pub, but with a difference. The setting is Soho in the early 1930s, and this is a tale of loneliness and how the tavern connects the punters who arrive with very different back stories. Only they are not presented as outcasts; they are connected and feel seen, as they drink and chat.
A play with the feel of Noel Coward
This piece also has the feel of Noel Coward, particularly during some of the lip-synched songs, which work to begin with, and then start to feel overused. The pots of tea, the cake stands, and the tipsy trolley takes you back to Brief Encounter, and it does leave you wondering whether this could be something that Bourne could adapt into a beautiful ballet.
Paule Constable’s lighting is dark and dangerous, and even though this suits some of the meetings that take place between characters, who were creatures of the night, it also means that sightlines are not as clear as they need to be. Matthew Bourne’s choreography is as meticulous as you would expect, but you cannot always pick out the detail and nuances as clearly as you would hope.
Lez Brotherston’s superb set
During the first act Lez Brotherston’s superb set is pushed on and off the stage so frequently, to resemble a pub and the dark and dingy streets, that it does take you out of the action momentarily.
We are used to seeing a huge ensemble and this is a smaller show, but because the venues are big, sometimes the show feels a bit swamped and it would benefit from smaller spaces such as the Quays, to truly capture the seediness for all to see and leave you with a much more powerful connection.
“Fleeting moments of magic that take your breathe away”
There are moments of magic which take your breath away, including a raptured audience watching a film at the flicks. Instead of having a filmed sequence, Bourne chooses to tell this story through two dancers and some incredible lighting by Paule Constable. Smoke fills the air as cast members puff away. This scene is a love letter to cinema and is as good as anything you will see in a stage version of Singin’ in the Rain.
And one central story between Mr Eccles, a regular customer and Bob, a waiter, is beautifully portrayed. You can see the love in their eyes but you can also see the barriers they must navigate. They exist in the dark, but when the light shines through, they must conform.
Dominic North and Danny Reubens glide across the stage and this mini-play without words has strength and a timeless quality. It also highlights the sheer universality of the language of love through silence.
Some of the vignettes do feel less fully realised and songs are lip synched, then this becomes a ballet where words spell things out too literally. And the multiple knotty stories, back to black lighting and lack of a well-known text do mean that there are multiple occasions when The Midnight Bell gets lost in translation.
But fans of Matthew Bourne’s work will get much of what they came for when it comes to the dazzling dance scenes, and the darkness within this tale is really welcome and relevant in a world where the ground beneath our feet feels particularly unstable right now.
Tickets for Matthew Bourne’s the Midnight Bell at LOWRY
Matthew Bourne’s The Midnight Bell is at LOWRY until 5th July.
