YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN

Firstly a thank you to BHOS for giving me the opportunity to use the word dirndl, not a word you get to use often and one that is as nice to type as it is to say. Purists out there might say that the costumes were not dirndls but the mere site of them twirling around the stage in Nathan Potter’s delightfully camp choreography was enough to get me excited. It’s always a treat to head off to the Campbell Studio Theatre at the BHOS Hub and over the last two years I have seen so many excellent productions there that my expectations were very high. I was not to be disappointed.

Mel Brooks is a comedy genius and his ability to turn his hilarious movies into first class musicals is second to none. The man cannot only create a gag but he can pen a lyric and a tune. And this one is larded with funny lyrics, great tunes and his classic gags.

Of course all this is as nothing if not in the hands of a quality ensemble, designer and director, and this production has this in spades, possibly the ones used to dig up the corpses in the plot!

Director Emma Edwards clearly has funny bones and has wrung the very last giggle and groan from her company, and to great effect. There needs to be a level of respect for the original film, of course there has, but not at the expense of letting her cast make the roles their own. The respect is there, but this company have been given license to enjoy themselves and they are clearly having as much fun as the audience are.

BHOS make excellent use of the studio space and there is so much detail in the designs and this time we are entombed in a dark girder bound tomb, all levers and rivets and very cleverly devised sliding panels and projections. Those panels, well here we have dooreography!

The ensemble, who pick up so many of the comic asides and minor roles, are exceptionally well drilled, stepping out complex routines in the smallest space without bumping into each other, although there was a clear sense of jeopardy when they emerged brandishing pitchforks and spades. I sank back into my front row seat for fear of being forked. But not for long as laughter soon had me rocking in my seat.

On then to the principals. Julian Briscoe’s Hermit is so very sweet and delivers one of the iconic cinematic moments with charming reverence. Isobel Stoner’s Inspector Kemp is packed with pomposity and physical comedy and Erica Thornton’s Elizabeth Benning has all the camp charm of a Hollywood diva, and some fab frocks too. And the ghost of Victor Frankenstein is delivered with class by Thomas Hackett.

Katherine Johnson-Miller is a lascivious vamp stalking the stage with all the silly menace of a Mrs Danvers armed with double entendres.

Grace Riach’s Inga is perfection, that mad balance of sweet and slutty, and she throws herself into every moment with such energy and enthusiasm, especially in the hay ride scene where she delivers every lyric with clarity whilst managing not to fall off the cart.

Christopher Peck is charged with delivering the monster, a role that gets some of the best laughs despite having the least lines. He does a great job of lumbering around the stage before his transformation into the sophisticated and debonair tap dancing final incarnation.

The toughest roles to embrace though must be Igor and Frederick Frankenstein. David Villiers is marvellous, his Igor is understated, world weary and as such very funny indeed. His complicity is delightfully innocent, shouldering some of the best classic gags with his ever shifting hunch.

Dan Nolloth makes a great Frederick, and his handling of his word heavy numbers, worthy of any G&S patter song, is exemplary. He brings enough of the original to the role but leaves himself enough room to make the part his own.

This is a really joyous piece of comedy theatre and runs until November 22nd.

Andrew Kay

14 November

BHOS Hub

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