Matthew Bourne’s The Car Man Will Rev Your Engine

Jonathan Ollivier smoulders as "the car man," photo courtesy of Chronicle Live

             Whenever a production of Matthew Bourne’s comes to London, you can be sure that I’ll be there with bells on. This time around, I attended a performance of The Car Man for its short one week run at New Wimbledon Theatre. For my previous reviews (always bound to be glowing) of Bourne’s work, you can read about Swan Lake here and Edward Scissorhands here. Georges Bizet’s opera Carmen is having a bit of a moment, as I mentioned in my previous post about Carmen Disruption at the Almeida Theatre (find it here if you would like a brief overview of Carmen’s storyline).

New Wimbledon Theatre

             To begin with, Carmen is already a very sexually charged opera. When you pair that with Bourne’s sexually charged choreography in what he proclaims is a “dance thriller,” magic happens. Take the original Spanish cigarette factory and turn the set into an American 196os neon-lit garage-diner called Dino’s. Add in the famous scores that have been arranged by Terry Davies. What you’re left with is a testosterone-fuelled vision of the tale involving sweat, sacrifice, and of course, lots of sex.

Man wanted very much indeed...photo courtesy of Johan Persson

             A giant sign with imposing letters welcomed the audience to the small Italian-American town of Harmony, population 365. Just like the idealistic-sounding Pleasantville, Harmony is also the actual name of several locations in the United States. For the purpose of the performance, the sufficiently deceptive and clearly ironic name choice inferred the calm before the very big storm.

             When an incredibly masculine and muscular newcomer called Luca (played by hunky Jonathan Ollivier) arrived, he shook things up in ways he couldn’t have possibly imagined. Ollivier was precisely the dominating male lead The Car Man called for. He was equal parts brawny and believable, supported by a stellar cast and set design by Lez Brotherston. A car positioned on the left hand of the stage was the perfect prop for the dancers to slide all over or use for a quick sex romp.

Lana, one-third of the love triangle, photo courtesy of Chronicle Live

             The modern twist unexpectedly showed itself by way of bisexuality, or perhaps what we could call curiosity. Either way, the handsome stranger not only began to toy with the heart of a woman (Lana, Dino’s wife), but also of a man (Angelo, a bullied hired help). This made Luca the ultimate lusted-after individual, appealing to both sexes, each blissfully unaware of the tangled web “the car man” was beginning to weave.

Angelo faces off against Lana for Luca's affections, photo courtesy of Chronicle Live

             The Car Man was the most erotic of Bourne’s productions that I have seen to date. My mouth was on the verge of being agape for its entirety, but my eyes certainly compensated by staying wide open. My friend and I nudged each other and giggled like schoolgirls during the shower scene, where the macho car mechanics stripped down to nothing but a towel, hiding their modesty (just about) by a strategically placed horizontal bar.

No caption necessary *ahem,* photo courtesy of Johan Persson

             The dancing was raunchy and steamy as the dancers’ bodies were slick with perspiration. Mimicking sexual positions, there was no shortage of gyrating or thrusting and occasional nudity. The greasy garage men in their oil-stained wife beaters chased after the women who provocatively teased them. The energy reverberating from the stage pulsated intensely as audience members most likely fell into one of two categories: squirming in their seat or becoming a bit hot under the collar.

It's getting hot in here...photo courtesy of Chronicle Live

             The plot thickened when the devilishly good-looking Luca and the female object of his desire were fooling around and her brutish husband Dino (played by Alan Vincent, the original “car man”) returned. One thing led to another and Dino was killed. When the police arrived, Luca’s male lover seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In a flurry of confusion and cunning quick thinking on the part of Lana, the innocent Angelo was dragged away by police, leaving the guilty two to live happily ever after…

Lana's husband Dino (Alan Vincent, the original "car man") catches her in the act with Luca, photo courtesy of Johan Persson

             …or not. The saying goes “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” but in this case we would need to replace the woman with a man. Revenge is a dish best served cold and the pair who escaped their fate would soon receive their comeuppance after Angelo’s jailbreak. If you know the story, then you know that it ends with a very literal bang. I’ll leave it up to you to find out who in the love triangle receives the brunt of the blow.

In Angelo's case, "Hell hath no fury like a man scorned,"  photo courtesy of  Johan Persson

             Although The Car Man does mirror Carmen, Carmen ultimately gave birth to the car man. The Car Man stands completely on its own and brings something new to the Carmen circuit. Whether Luca, Lana, or Angelo represents Carmen is up to individual interpretation, but Bourne did not intend to capture another Carmen. He instead created a car man and beautifully at that. Bourne loves to push the boundaries and The Car Man certainly surpassed my expectations, quickly securing itself a top spot alongside my other favorite of his, Swan Lake.

             As the reworked performance came to its dramatic close, the same Harmony sign from before made another appearance, cheerily prompting us to “come again soon.” To Harmony? Perhaps not, but to Bourne’s productions? Always.

 The Car Man's stellar cast, photo courtesy of Johan Persson

             The Car Man is coming to London’s Sadler’s Wells starting July 14^th until August 9^th. Book here now to avoid disappointment.

             [Author’s Note: On August 9th, before he was due to give his last performance as Luca in The Car Man, Jonathan Ollivier was tragically killed in a road accident. I was truly heartbroken to hear this news, especially having witnessed him perform so beautifully on stage. My thoughts are with Ollivier's family and the dancing community, who have suffered a monumental loss of an unforgettable talent.]

Our Town Was Made for You and Me

David Cromer, who has reworked Our Town for the Almeida Theatre, also stars in the production in the role of stage manager, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The Almeida Theatre has welcomed actor/director David Cromer to work his magic with Thornton Wilder’s Our Town. The play has been hailed as one of the best-known and most-performed plays in the United States. It was first introduced on Broadway in 1938 and was revolutionary for its time because it disobeyed typical theatre customs. The play is lacking in set and relies on minimal props and natural lighting to tell the story. Wilder broke the fourth wall, which is usually the boundary separating the audience from the action.

Use your imagination! Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) prepares "food," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Indeed, these breaks from normal conventions are evident from the very start of Our Town. The audience is subjected to what can barely be called a stage due to its inclusive nature. Members of the audience are actually situated in the same vicinity as the actors. Two tables with four chairs reside on the space to make up the layout. Cromer acts as the stage manager throughout the play, and as he comments directly to us, this is “scenery for those who think they have to have scenery.”

 Audience members are seated in close proximity to the actors and to the "scenery for those who think they have to have scenery," photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Our Town is appealing because it takes the humdrum and twists it into a production that is watchable and simultaneously relatable. As the description of the play on the Almeida Theatre’s website states, “We all grow-up, we fall in love, we have families and we all die. That is our story.” That is everyone’s story and it’s a universal one at that. You would think that watching a play about something we enact everyday would be monotonous, but if anything, it makes you even more invested in the storyline.

David Walmsley during rehearsal, who plays Emily Webb's friend and eventual husband, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner 

             As little Emily Webb (Laura Elsworthy) awkwardly flirts with her neighbor, George Gibbs (David Walmsley), I can feel the collective sigh of the audience as they recollect their own personal experiences with adolescence. George attempts a marriage proposal over milkshakes and we watch on throughout the marriage ceremony. Emily and George have a family together, but Emily dies young giving birth to their second child.

Laura Elsworthy (Emily Webb) pictured with Daniel Kendrick (milkman Howie Newsome) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Just like the changing of seasons, we lay witness to a speeded-up version of life’s stages. It was life portrayed in two hours and five minutes, including two intervals, to be exact. You need to be cognizant not to take intermissions from life however. Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie) and Mrs. Gibbs (Anna Francolini) gossip like neighbors do and prepare food for dinner. The cheery milkman Howie Newsome (Daniel Kendrick) does his rounds, pulling along his imaginary (at least to the human eye) cow. Dr. Gibbs scolds his son for focusing more on baseball than helping his mother.

Milkman Howie Newsome delivering milk with his "cow" in tow, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) takes the stage, providing us with a lecture and reciting statistics about the town. Cromer hands members of the audience slips of paper with questions on to ask Willard, which was an inclusion representative of the friendliness and involvement of small towns. In the Almeida Theatre that night, we were all a town in our own right.  

Professor Willard (Joe Bunker) tells the audience all about the history of the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) is the emotional wedding guest as she gushes about Emily and George's beautiful wedding. Members of the community attend choir practice at the local church. Then, of course there is the town drunk and church organist, Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines). Compared to the utter normality of the rest of the town, his unruly behavior lends itself to perpetuating the rumor that he is becoming evermore unhinged.

Simon Stimson (Christopher Staines) drunkenly leads the local church's choir group which leads to an interesting practice session, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             In succinct summary, that is the story of Our Town, but the message is much greater in the grand scheme of things. After Emily dies, she descends to a resting place in the graveyard with others who she once knew in the town. One such resident is Stimson, who took his own life. At first, she is just as full of life as she was when she was alive, but this quickly takes a sharp turn for the worst. Emily is puzzled about the cold detachment of the residents of the surrounding tombstones. She realizes that she is able to revisit a prior time in her life, so she chooses one of her birthdays at home with her parents.

Wally Webb (Arthur Byrne), another resident of the graveyard, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             At this point, the only semblance of a set throughout the entire performance is revealed behind a curtain, fully equipped with things such as: food, a staircase, a kitchen area, a dining room with a table and chairs, and windows. The actors’ British accents have also morphed into American ones, a very subtle change that implies the sameness of all towns. One is like the other is like the other. The people might change, but the stories stay the same.

Emily helps her mother, Mrs. Webb (Kate Dickie), with food preparation, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             With increasing panic, Emily notices that her parents and her younger self hardly look at one another during this otherworldly experience. She exclaims, “That's all human beings are! Just blind people.” Stimson seconds this thought from the grave, claiming that people live in a “cloud of ignorance and blindness.” Perhaps most profound, however, is when Emily poses the question, “Do people realize life as they live it?” Cromer comes in at this point and quips, “Some; saints and poets do.” The answer is most likely a realistic no, especially in London, where everyone seems to be in some sort of a hurry.

Rebecca Gibbs (Jessica Lester) and her brother George enjoy simple pleasures, such as stargazing, in the town, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             I left the theatre concerned for my own mortality, having just viewed the final scene where Emily comes to terms with her death and adopts a stoic stance to the outside world. Even as her widowed husband visits her at her grave, she joins the others in miniscule talk of things such as the weather.

Mrs. Soames (Annette McLaughlin) during rehearsal, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner

             The nature of life is that of a never-ending vicious cycle, much like the washing cycle of a load of laundry that spins and spins until it eventually must cease out of domestic exhaustion. When referring to Mrs. Webb and Mrs. Gibbs, Cromer says, half in jest and half in truth, "They brought up two children apiece, washed, cleaned the house — and never a nervous breakdown." Unlike human beings, plays and the characters in them are eternal. Well, let’s all hope we keep pleasure in our lives to a maximum while keeping nervous breakdowns to a minimum.

             Catch Our Town at the Almeida Theatre before it ends its run on November 29^th. Purchase tickets (while you still can!) here.   

That's all folks! As the stage manager, Cromer (pictured here during rehearsal) provides a running commentary throughout the play, photo courtesy of Marc Brenner